Chapter Four

Captain's Personal Log: Twice, now, I have spoken at Starfleet Academy, and each time cadets have asked me the greatest trials starship captains face. They expect me to tell them about galactic disasters, powerful adversaries, or epic battles. Yet I tell them that the hardest hours for any captain are those in which he can do nothing – when the solution to a problem is out of his hands, and he can only wait.

I also tell them that one of the principal challenges of command is dealing with a crew made up of intelligent, competent officers … who are also emotional, fallible human beings. A starship is a world in microcosm, after all. Rivalry, feuds, romances gone wrong, friendships torn apart: These may be more prosaic concerns than wars, rescue missions or supernovae, but they are every bit as much a part of life on board. And no amount of experience or command ability will ever help decipher the mysteries of the human heart.

Despite their many differences, Jean-Luc Picard and Jack Crusher had been fast friends. They balanced each other – Jack the charming, impulsive one, Jean-Luc thoughtful and reserved. Only Jean-Luc realized that Jack's spirit and wit had cloaked a vein of pessimism, very nearly fatalism; only Jack had glimpsed that Jean-Luc's methodical caution moderated a level of optimism approaching faith. They always had varying perspectives to discuss, invariably with respect and often with fascination. They broadened each other's perspectives and interests. And since Jack's flawless service made Jean-Luc's captaincy of the Stargazer so much simpler and more enjoyable, Jean-Luc had always sought ways to help his friend just as much.

For Jack, he'd learnt to play three-dimensional chess. For Jack, he'd cultivated a taste for whisky rather than wine. For Jack, he'd nudged leave time and starbase choices to allow his science officer frequent rendezvous with a lovely young wife.

For Jack, Jean-Luc had pretended not to be drawn to Beverly, to value her conversation and intelligence while supposedly blind to her beauty and warmth. He had done everything in his power as both friend and commanding officer to support their marriage through Jack's career on the Stargazer.

And for Jack, Jean-Luc had kept his silence about an affair that should never have happened. Had tried to talk sense into the man, telling him that he shouldn't throw his marriage away for fleeting desire. Had lied to Beverly by omission, then and for all the years since. Had brought his dead body home.

Yet no task Jean-Luc had ever undertaken for Jack weighed as heavily as the hour in which he told Wesley the truth about Xia and Nicole.

Wesley sat on the low sofa in the captain's quarters. The quiet misery in his eyes stripped away all the maturity and rank he'd earned aboard the Enterprise, turning him into a boy again. "My dad was going to leave us?"

"No," Jean-Luc said. Jack had remained torn, unable to decide, until the very end, but his final choice would have inevitably been his wife and son. "He loved your mother deeply. Loved you. Had he not died when he did, he would eventually have ended his relationship with Sun Xia."

Wesley considered what had been said in depth, hands on his knees, before saying, "If Dad hadn't died, he would have learned Commander Sun was pregnant. That would've changed things."

"Certainly it would have complicated the situation. In the end, however, I believe his choice would have been the same." He kept his voice firm and steady; the same sympathy Beverly had required would make Wesley feel as if he were being condescended to. To handle this as an adult, Wes needed to be treated as one. "Never doubt your father's love for you, or for your mother."

"He fell in love with someone else too, though."

Jean-Luc breathed out heavily. "You've only ever served on a Galaxy-class vessel, Wesley. In the days before, when spouses were separated for months or even years at a time, fidelity was often more a goal than a reality. Loneliness, the stresses of service, the close bonds forged during service – they wreaked havoc in more than one marriage."

"Is that why you never got married?"

This earned Wesley a look. "Don't change the subject."

"I'm sorry. It's just – " Wesley raised his eyebrows as he glanced downward, breathed out hard. "This subject sucks."

"Agreed."

He remembered how he had left Beverly, pale and shaking, seemingly on the verge of collapse. She was a strong woman; she had faced death, capture and defeat without flinching. For this news to devastate her so completely, she must still have loved Jack Crusher as intensely as she had on the day he'd died.

You fool, Jean-Luc thought to the memory of Jack that lingered in his mind. To have the devotion of a woman like that, and yet risk losing it.

When he'd summoned Wesley to his quarters, Jean-Luc had prepared himself for a similar breakdown. Yet despite his obvious unhappiness, Wesley remained steady. "Mom took it hard, didn't she?"

"You must be strong for her, Wes."

"She still talks about Dad like he's in our lives. Sometimes she makes it sound as if he just – stepped out of the room or something, and he'll be right back." Wesley clearly struggled to find the right words. "For her, this is like she's back in that warp bubble, where parts of the universe kept vanishing all around her and nobody else remembered what had been lost. Because before my dad was dead, but now it seems like he never really existed at all. Not the way she thought he was."

The same thought had occurred to Jean-Luc, but hearing it from Wes made his spirits sink further. Beverly was a formidable woman—she would endure—but this would change her in a lasting sense. After Jack's death, he and Beverly had drifted apart for more than a decade; would a similar rift open now? She could always transfer away from the Enterprise. Any starship or starbase would be happy to have her, not to mention the Academy or Starfleet Medical…

Catching himself, Jean-Luc pushed such thoughts aside. His worries about his relationship with Beverly Crusher were his own to handle. For now, his focus had to remain on Wesley.

"The initial shock has been difficult," he said carefully, "but in time, I believe your mother will again know how much your father loved her. What happened between Jack and Xia was a mistake – one of the terrible mistakes we all make in life. Even the best of us sometimes lose our way. But what I want you to understand above all, what I hope your mother will soon remember, is that Jack was indeed one of the very best of us. His errors don't change that. They only make him human."

Wesley considered this, his gaze turned inward. When he looked up again, he asked a question Jean-Luc had not anticipated. "Did Dad really love Xia? Was she important to him?"

How easy it would be to call the affair a fling. To deny what he had seen between his science officer and the new chief geologist from nearly the first moment they'd met. But no partial truths would do. "I believe that your father cared for Xia very deeply."

"I figured," Wesley answered, and to Jean-Luc's surprise, the same emotional tie between Jack and Xia that had eviscerated Beverly seemed to comfort Wes. Perhaps it helped him to think that nothing less than powerful emotion could ever have made his father stray.

Jean-Luc took a seat across from Wesley. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused. Angry with my dad, and worried about Mom, but also – " Wesley took a deep breath. "I have a sister."

"Yes. You do." Xia and Nicole would soon leave the Enterprise, but this was no self-contained chapter in their lives to be opened and then shut. For Wesley, these revelations were only a beginning. "I confess, when I first saw Nicole and realized she was Jack Crusher's daughter – despite everything, I felt a moment of happiness at the thought that he lived on through her as well."

"It's weird," Wesley said. "I want to get to know her, but someday. Not now. Right now I can't even imagine what I'd say to her."

"Nicole has not yet learned the truth about her paternity. When she does, no doubt both of you will need some time before you're ready to have any sort of sibling relationship. But the day will come."

"I can't talk to Mom about that yet. She's not going to want to hear it."

"No. But you're a grown man. You'll enter the Academy as soon as the next available slot opens. Whatever relationship you have with Nicole in the future, you'll navigate on your own."

Wesley nodded. "I should go to Sickbay right away, shouldn't I?"

"Yes. Doctor Selar will be on duty and is aware of what needs to be done." Thank goodness they had a Vulcan physician on board, who would treat this emotionally complicated situation with pure detachment.

Yet Jean-Luc had expected Wesley to say he should go to his mother first. Instead, Wes had understood that Nicole's medical condition was the most urgent priority - which showed maturity, perspective and courage. He put one hand on Wesley's shoulder and smiled at the boy as best he could. Wesley simply nodded, then headed out toward Sickbay and his first duty.

As Jean-Luc watched him go, he thought, You would be proud of your son, Jack.

I hope he's still proud of you too.

Five hours after Jean-Luc had left her quarters, Beverly Crusher returned to Sickbay.

She had cried herself out within an hour and fallen asleep still in her uniform, from pure physical and emotional exhaustion. But she slept fitfully, and she had awful dreams. Not nightmares – those she could have borne – but dreams in which Jack walked into her quarters, told her he'd been alive all along, that Jean-Luc's story about Xia was just part of some secret plan to bring him back to her, and everything was all right now. In the dreams this explanation made sense. Beverly was so grateful to Jean-Luc for his cleverness, so delighted to be with her husband again. She awoke still remembering the feel of Jack's arms around her, the memory more powerful then than it had been in years. After the third round of these dreams, she swore, got up, and went back to work.

When she arrived in Sickbay, Selar displayed no surprise save one raised eyebrow. "Your next shift is not due to begin for another six hours, Doctor Crusher."

"We're dealing with a quarantine. Rest can wait." Beverly glanced around, examining the life signs displayed above biobeds, until her eyes fell on Nicole.

The girl lay beneath a silvery blanket; her shining dark hair spilled off one edge of the biobed. As Beverly walked closer, she noted that Nicole's breathing was deeper and slower than it had been before, and that her fever was no longer threatening to spike. "The treatment is working," she said quietly. "When did Wesley come in?"

"Approximately four and one quarter hours ago," Selar replied. "I can pull records for the exact time, if you would prefer."

"No need." Her son must have gone to Sickbay almost the moment Jean-Luc finished speaking to him. Beverly felt a pang of pride. When she saw Wes again, that was the first thing she'd say – that he'd been brave.

Somehow the conversation they had to have about his father seemed as if it would be easier to face afterward. She didn't know why.

Beverly stood over the sleeping Nicole. She strongly resembled her mother – but that sharp chin, the set of the nose – those were Jack's. I am seeing him alive again in someone else, she thought. Wesley's resemblance to Jack, she was used to; the sight of him in Nicole was new, fresh and powerful.

How we wanted a daughter.

The Sickbay doors slid open. Beverly turned her head to look at whichever new patient would be walking in, and instead saw Xia.

A long silence followed, long enough for Beverly to realize that Xia knew the truth had been revealed. "Jean-Luc warned you, I see."

Xia shook her head no. "Doctor Selar told me she'd put together a treatment using paternal genetic material. Only one way that could've happened. So that's how I knew." Her glance toward her daughter was anguished; Beverly was too much of a mother not to understand that. "Is it working?"

"Yes. To judge by these readings, Nicole can probably return to your guest quarters to recover sometime tomorrow."

"Thank you." Xia's voice broke. "And I meant what I said when we spoke in the transporter room – I am so incredibly sorry."

Beverly opened her mouth, a smile of both indignation and amazement. "That's the first thing you said to me. A coded apology for the affair you had with my husband. Unbelievable."

A silence followed, broken only by the beeping and humming of her Sickbay equipment, and Selar's soft footfalls on the carpet. At least all the other patients were sound asleep; this conversation would only be witnessed by a Vulcan, which was almost as good as being alone.

When Xia spoke again, she met Beverly's eyes evenly. "I don't apologize for falling in love with Jack. That was something neither of us sought. But I should have insisted that he resolve his relationship with you before anything happened between us. I didn't. That's on me."

Resolve his relationship with you. In other words, Xia thought Jack would have left Beverly if he'd had the chance. The sincerity of her belief scalded Beverly, because it communicated so clearly that the idea of divorce was no mere assumption. Jack had told Xia as much. Had he been telling the truth—or telling a lie to simplify his extramarital affair? No good answer remained, no easy outs.

"I can't say I would do things differently, because if I had then Nicole wouldn't have been born, and nothing can make me regret her." Xia squared her shoulders. "But I wronged you, and I'm truly sorry."

Beverly could imagine shouting her down – I'm saving your child's life because I care about your family more than you ever cared about mine! Or she could take the frosty high road – You've made your apology, and now we have nothing further to discuss. Leave. Worst were the questions that threatened to burst out of her: Did Jack say why he stopped loving me? Did I do something wrong? Or did I never truly know the man I loved?

But just as Xia's first priority was Nicole, Beverly's first priority was Wes. "You have to tell Nicole the truth, sooner rather than later. My son knows about her now, and that means he'll want to reach out someday. He should be able to have an open and honest relationship with her. No more silence. No more lies."

"… I'll tell her as soon as she's fully recovered."

"That's fair. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." With that Beverly turned away and got back to being a ship's doctor. She went into her office and dove into vaccine development, determined to save the rest of the galaxy from this virulent disease. Her focus was so intent that she didn't even notice when Xia finished visiting her daughter, and walked out.

"I don't know that she'll ever forgive me." Jean-Luc paced the length of his ready room, hands clasped behind his back. "This blow has devastated her, and she blames me for it."

Counselor Deanna Troi sat in the chair in front of his desk, hands folded in her lap. "Why do you feel that way?"

"That Beverly blames me? She made it quite clear." His cheek stung with the memory of her slap.

"But why do you agree with her?"

He stopped pacing. Indignant denials faded away unspoken. "No fooling a Betazoid."

"I only wish. We make the same mistakes everyone else does. But I can tell you're deeply troubled. When you think of Beverly, you feel responsible."

Jean-Luc stared at his fishtank, where Livingston swam; why he found the sight of his pet fish so soothing was a mystery, but it usually helped. Today, however, peace of mind would be harder to come by. "She seems to believe that I chose Jack and Xia over her. Even said I 'conspired' with them against her."

"You did keep his secret for quite some time, Captain."

"Why in the worlds would I tell Beverly about the affair after Jack had died?" He turned back toward Deanna. "What good could it possibly have done? I knew nothing about Xia's pregnancy. Beverly was utterly grief-stricken. To have added to her pain then would have been unconscionable. Would any time in the last fifteen years have been somehow more appropriate to share this news? I cannot see it."

Deanna tilted her head, her heavy black curls falling to one side. "Telling Beverly about this after Jack's death would have been cruel. I don't think you were wrong to keep your silence then, and I believe even Beverly will eventually agree. Yet you also kept Jack's secret while he was still alive."

"You mean, she thinks I took his side."

"Didn't you?"

"The hell I did. I told Jack he was making a terrible mistake. Over and over, I tried to convince him that his feelings for Xia were an infatuation, no more."

"And you believed you understood his emotions better than he did."

Jean-Luc could usually tell when Deanna was driving to a conclusion, especially when it was one he didn't like. But he couldn't tell where she was going with this. Wasn't the situation obvious? "Jack wasn't the sort of man to have a casual affair; if he hadn't felt strongly about Xia, he would never have acted on their attraction. I always realized that."

"Then why were you so certain he wouldn't remain with Xia?"

"Because Beverly – the treasure he had in her – leaving her was unthinkable."

Deanna's dark eyes searched his. "For whom?"

There it was. Sometimes his ship's counselor cloaked her penetrating intelligence in her soft-spoken, gentle demeanor – and sometimes, she laid you bare.

He turned to stare out the windows, unable in that first moment to meet Deanna's eyes. "You're altogether too good at this."

"How did my question make you feel?"

"Keenly observed," he said, crisp and rueful. "You realize I had no thought of ever acting upon those emotions."

"Of course." She spoke easily, as if they'd discussed his long-ago unrequited love for Beverly Crusher a thousand times, when in fact Jean-Luc had never spoken of it aloud with anyone before. "Beverly was in love with her husband, and you were a loyal friend. Loyalty is important to you."

"I despised myself for the mere thought." How small he had felt then. How foolish, and petty. A shadow of that fell over him even now, fifteen years and half a galaxy away. "When Jack strayed … my mind turned traitor. I envisioned divorces, and decent intervals. A future where Beverly would be free to choose, and I would be free to ask."

"But you weren't the sort of man to break up a friend's marriage to further your own interests. You didn't even want to consider the possibility. So you went to the other extreme, supporting Jack's marriage even longer than he did."

"We don't know that," Jean-Luc insisted. "Nor can we ever know for certain. Jack hadn't yet made his ultimate choice, and I truly believe he would have returned to Beverly. They loved each other tremendously."

"Yes, of course," Deanna said softly. Beverly must have told her so countless times.

But Jean-Luc knew it. Had seen it, unable to look away even when his wretched covetousness made the images a torment: Beverly hugging Jack from behind as if his return home from leave were a miracle; Jack kissing her passionately at the edge of the transporter pad; the two of them staring into each other's eyes over dinner, pretending to listen to his awkward chit-chat while they counted the moments until they could be alone.

Deanna's soft voice broke through his reverie. "So. Out of loyalty to one friend – and some overcompensation for your private guilt – you concealed the truth from another. Beverly isn't wrong to feel hurt by that."

"No. I suppose she isn't."

"But you do realize that's not the main emotion fueling her present anger with you?"

"I'm available to be lashed out at. Jack is not. You needn't be a ship's counselor to piece that one together."

Deanna rose from her chair and came to stand by his side; in her smile he could see the kindness and patience that had seen him through the terrible aftermath of his ordeal with the Borg. Not for the first time, he gave thanks to whatever combination of Starfleet politics and fate had sent Deanna Troi to the Enterprise. "Captain, it may be that the kindest thing you can do for Beverly now is to bear the brunt of that anger. Apologize. Accept her reaction. Let her express the rage and hurt she feels, and trust that the friendship you share is strong enough to weather the storm."

Jean-Luc sighed, even as he managed to smile back. "Why is the best advice the hardest to take?"

Deanna shrugged. "Trade secret."

On some levels, Beverly Crusher had an incredibly successful day.

By midmorning, she'd received word that all patients on board – including Nicole – were in stable condition or better. Although some would require days or even weeks to fully recover, no more lives were endangered aboard the Enterprise. Furthermore, between the naturally immune and those who had acquired only light cases before being treated, the ship was now assured of not only a functional crew complement but also more than adequate nursing care for those more seriously afflicted. Although her ship remained under quarantine, Beverly knew she'd seen them through the greatest danger.

The early afternoon offered an even greater triumph: Test results proving that her tinkering with that Aldebaran virus had produced a likely vaccine. She sent the data on to Starbase 133 for further refinement and testing, and inoculated an initial batch of volunteers – including Sun Xia. Their eyes never met, even as Beverly pressed the hypospray against Xia's neck.

Of course, she could hardly celebrate her success. Her devastation felt like weight pressing on her shoulders, bearing her down. When she learned Wesley had beamed down to the surface of Hasolon IV to assist Commander T'Sara with the tectonic stabilizers, it had at first felt like a slap – her son's desertion just when she wanted him closest. But her mother's intuition swiftly told her why he'd gone. Wes both wanted and feared their next conversation, and had seized on duty as a way of delaying the worst. Young people did that. They hadn't yet learned to get the pain over with.

So she worked until her vision began to blur and even shy Alyssa Ogawa was visibly working up the nerve to tell her boss to rest. Beverly gave thanks for her exhaustion, which she assumed would bear her down to unconsciousness within minutes of reaching her cabin.

Twenty minutes of lying on her bunk and staring at the ceiling later, she knew better.

What the hell, she thought. I did a pretty fantastic job today.

Might as well celebrate.

When the door chimed an hour later, she answered with a cheery "Enter!"

Jean-Luc walked through the doors into her darkened cabin, so rigid she idly wondered if he'd had his uniform starched. He blinked in evident surprise at the sight of her sitting on the floor in her nightgown, bare toes pressed against the transparent aluminum of her window. Beverly simply lifted a glass to him.

"Chateau Picard," she said as the doors shut behind him. "The '47. You brought me a bottle from Earth a few months ago, remember? Tonight I figured you owed me a drink."

"Not like you to choose real wine over synthehol."

"… do you honestly think this is a good night to lecture me about regulations?"

He raised one hand, a sign of surrender. "No lectures. I promise."

Beverly shrugged. "Given the number of hours I've put in over the past three days, Starfleet regulations forbid my returning to duty until tomorrow in anything but a Level One emergency. Even then, I could get a napacin injection that would restore me to sobriety in three minutes. In other words, my dear captain, what I choose to drink is my own business."

"You're quite right. I've no room to object. After all, I gave you the bottle—and as the Vulcans say, the cause is sufficient."

Beverly remembered Jean-Luc's return to the Enterprise after his brief holiday in France. They'd spent a few hours in the nearly deserted Ten-Forward that night, at a table by the window overlooking the blue Earth below. She had told him about Jack's message for Wesley, and about the memories stirred up by everything else she'd found in that box. In turn, he'd spoken of the pleasures and annoyances of his brother's traditionalism, and even the temptation posed by the Atlantis Project. The evening had been a delight—not least because it was such a relief to see Jean-Luc acting like himself again.

Yet even then he had been lying to her. Every reminiscence about Jack they'd shared had been shadowed by a truth Jean-Luc had never intended to reveal.

She held up the bottle of Chateau Picard. "Join me." When Jean-Luc hesitated, she said, "If you don't, I'll be drinking alone. Is that any way to leave a friend?"

By way of reply, Jean-Luc stepped to the replicator. "One wineglass." The shimmer of light as his glass appeared revealed the deep red of the Chateau Picard, the soft pink of her nightgown, in the instant before it faded.

Rising to her feet with only a slight wobble, she faced Jean-Luc as he crossed the room to join her. When he held out his glass, she poured lavishly. "There we go," she said, setting the bottle on the clear table nearby as she lifted her own glass to chin level. "Now for a toast to the late Jack Crusher. Friend, husband, father, lover, and … mirage."

"Beverly—"

"Tell me, Jean-Luc, how much of the man I loved was a lie?"

"Don't do this." He put his glass down as he stepped closer. "You mustn't let this destroy your memories of him. Jack loved you so very much. This single mistake didn't change that."

"Single mistake. You make it sound like he had a meaningless fling. Jack fell in love with another woman, one he was considering leaving me for. And no matter what you say, that changes everything."

"Not everything."

What was it about the quiet gravity of Jean-Luc's voice that affected people so? Sometimes Beverly felt as though it left her defenseless. Those two words alone had conjured older, softer memories – Jack cuddling newborn Wesley. Lying on the floor of their first home, allowing his organs to be palpated so she could practice. The look in his eyes before he'd kissed her for the first time. "No. Not everything. But it changes a lot."

"Fair enough." Jean-Luc took up his glass again and drank deeply, like a man summoning courage. "If I failed you in this, as a friend, I apologize. I told myself I was protecting you. In reality, I left you vulnerable. That was a mistake, and an injustice. You deserved better from everyone involved."

"From Jack, mostly." The stars outside seemed to be wheeling in space; the Enterprise's gravity might as well have been fluctuating, tugging her from side to side. Yet Beverly remained on her feet, determined to see this through.

For the first time since he'd walked into her room, Jean-Luc's attention was drawn inward, away from her. Finally he said, "If you have any other questions you want to ask, I'll answer to the best of my ability."

"No more secrets?"

Jean-Luc paused so long Beverly nearly because suspicious—but then he said, "Anything you want to know about Jack, I'll tell you, if I can."

Did she want to know everything? Maybe not. Maybe she didn't want to hear another word.

Beverly made her way to the plush mauve sofa that lined the wall of her living quarters and sank down onto it. Her head swam. I should really go to sleep, she thought, glancing through the open archway that set her bedroom off from the living area. Crawl under the covers, pull the blanket over my head and ignore reality until tomorrow morning.

But Jean-Luc was a guarded man. While she didn't doubt he would try to be honest with her regardless of when she asked, tonight presented a rare opportunity. She needed to seize the moment.

He sat beside her, brow furrowed. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Just intoxicated." Beverly forced herself to focus on him. "But not too intoxicated. So. The truth about Jack Crusher. Ready?"

"…yes."

"Did he have any other affairs?"

"Not that I know of, and I believe he would have told me." Jean-Luc hesitated, then added, "There was a – minor flirtation while the two of you were dating. A civilian technician on Starbase 271. But I feel certain it went no further than that, and lasted only a few weeks. Jack never stopped talking about you, and after the next time the two of you visited, I never saw the tech again."

The tech's name had been Mariska. Jack had told Beverly about the girl himself. I kept telling myself that if I were going to sow any wild oats, this was the time, he'd whispered to her as they lay together in her bed. But I didn't want to. I'd found the one for me, forever. At the time she'd seen it as a small triumph—proof that the man she loved would always be true.

But maybe Mariska had been a sign of something else. A sign that even his first flush of love for her had not been enough to blind him to another's charms.

"So Xia was the only one." Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears. "How long were they together?"

"Five to six months, so far as I could determine."

"Did you know from the start?"

Jean-Luc stared down into his wineglass. "When I was with the two of them early on, I sensed a certain, ah, energy. But I thought little of it. Starship crews engage in various kinds of banter, including flirtation. Most often it's meaningless."

"But not always."

Their eyes met, and Beverly wondered if he was remembering their Dixon Hill holodeck adventure—or their breakfast meetings—or the way they'd sat side by side at the last concert, shoulders brushing too many times to be entirely accidental.

"No," Jean-Luc said, his gaze still locked with hers. "Sometimes it means more."

It had for Jack and Xia. Beverly looked away. "So, when did you find out they had more than a 'flirtation'?"

"Jack came to me a week or two after they – well. After. He was distraught. But I failed to provide the sympathetic ear he wanted. We argued, he left my quarters, and we didn't speak for a few days, absent the necessities of duty."

At least Jean-Luc had fought for her. Beverly's mind had tortured her for the better part of a day with all the endearments Jack might have whispered into Xia's ear, the pleasures he'd shown her that he might have shown his lover too. But now she could imagine Jean-Luc defending her as well. It helped.

"We made it up thereafter," Jean-Luc continued. "I knew he was going through a crisis, and I didn't want to abandon him. Sometimes we need our friends most when we are furthest from our true selves. Eventually Xia spoke to me also–"

"That's right." Beverly leaned back onto the sofa, her arms stretching wide across the top. "You two were friends as well."

"Not as you and I are. Nor as Jack and I were. But she was one of my officers, and a good one."

"Did you like her?"

He nodded. "I found Xia easygoing. Enjoyable to be with."

"Did you want her for yourself?"

"…I beg your pardon?"

"Did you. Want her. I have it on good authority that she is, quote, supernova hot, unquote."

"No."

"Most men would. Plenty of women, too."

"Obviously Xia's attractive. But no, I never considered pursuing her."

That answer satisfied Beverly more than she'd anticipated. Yet it was only one small glimmer of light in a near-infinite darkness. "Did Jack ever tell you he planned to leave me?"

Jean-Luc hesitated.

She sat up straighter. "You promised me the truth."

"He told me he was considering it. Not that he planned to do it. There is a difference."

How little that difference meant, now that Beverly could never know what Jack would have chosen. He had died with his love for her occluded, confused, and to her it felt as if that were the same as if he'd died not loving her at all. "And what did you say to him?"

"That any man who would walk away from you was a fool."

Beverly took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Then there seemed to be nothing else to say. She wanted to know so much more—but none of it fell into the category of things Jean-Luc could possibly know. How much had Jack loved Xia? Had he still loved her? Had the sex been better, more passionate, more free? When they'd had a small child in the house, Beverly had wanted them to be quieter – to remain in the bedroom – and it all seemed so sensible, so harmless, but maybe to Jack it had been dull and tame …

"Beverly?" Jean-Luc leaned closer. He could sound so kind. "Are you all right?"

She laughed weakly. "Of course not."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Maybe." Her fingers closed around the hem of his uniform jacket as she tilted her face up to his. "Want to help me get revenge?"

There was something delicious about shocking Jean-Luc. That proper façade of his might conceal a lifetime's experience and sophistication – but Beverly still loved watching it crack. "I don't think – "

"Exactly. Don't think." She slid her hand up his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath her palm.

His hand covered hers, even as he shook his head. "You don't want this. Not really."

"You don't have any idea what I really want." Beverly splayed her fingers, catching his to pull his hand toward her and cradle it against her heart. "This isn't the first time I've thought about it, you know."

Jean-Luc went very still. She laughed, low and soft.

"C'mon. You've wondered about us too, haven't you? Imagined what it would be like if you took me to bed?"

Their eyes met, and it took him a few moments to answer. "Yes."

Her reaction caught her off-guard. Up until now, Beverly had been pleasantly tipsy, slightly turned on. But hearing Jean-Luc confess his desire, and finally knowing for certain that their attraction was both shared and deep – it exhilarated her. Scared her. Made her flush hot all over, and newly aware of his hand against her chest.

Is this happening? Her head swam. I think this is happening. Her mind wasn't sure what to make of this, but her body seemed to be okay with it.

Very much so.

Jean-Luc cupped her chin in his hand. His thumb brushed along her lower lip even as he whispered, "Beverly – not like this."

It hit her like a napacin injection, or a gulp of strong black coffee: sobering, steadying, and yet tightening the tension inside. She curled her fingers around his wrist to break his touch on her face, but didn't fight it when he responded by taking her hand. "You always have to prove you know what's best for everyone," Beverly said, even as she kept her hand in his. "Never put a foot wrong, did you?"

"I've made plenty of mistakes. This week proves that, surely. But I don't think either of us would be very happy with ourselves in the morning."

"No, we probably wouldn't."

Which she'd known all along, really; she'd just felt as if she couldn't possibly make her situation any worse. Yet she didn't want to risk her friendship with Jean-Luc, even now when it was strained – and least of all for hollow revenge against a dead man.

Still, she was in no mood to let him walk away easily. "Do you have to be so damned responsible all the time?"

"If I'd had more of the wine, you might well have learnt the answer to that question."

Beverly folded her arms in front of her as she flopped back onto the sofa, breaking the contact between them. "It wouldn't have fixed anything anyway."

"No." The silence stretched into awkwardness once more. "Is there anything more you want to know?"

"Nothing you can tell me." The impact of Jack's affair with Xia, and the child it had produced, would continue to reverberate through her life for a long time. Forever, probably. Its essential mystery – what had been within Jack's heart at the end – was unsolvable, by Beverly, Jean-Luc, Xia, or anyone else. She had to begin the long work of learning how to live without those answers.

Jean-Luc touched her shoulder, just for a second, then rose to leave. He straightened his jacket, which had been rumpled by the moments they'd nearly embraced, and she took some satisfaction in noticing that he was breathing hard, still unfocused.

Oh, I got you, she thought.

Just as he walked toward the doors, Beverly said, "You'll ask yourself whether you should have stayed."

She expected him to shift back into formality, to be amusingly stiff and flustered now that he was trying to shift back into "captain mode." Or maybe he would remain warm and comforting, determined to smooth over the evening's rough edges no matter what.

Instead, Jean-Luc's voice sounded ragged as he said, "No doubt."

As her cabin doors slid open and shut, Beverly took satisfaction in the knowledge Jean-Luc Picard would be thinking about her all night long.