LIFE WITH BEVERLY:

CHAPTER TWO: GUT INSTINCTS…

Jean-Luc wished that he could snuggle into his favorite lover's pillow, but his beloved was actually sitting up in bed, apparently reading a padd. In the nude. She was also lightly snoring even as the padd slipped from her hand to slide down her breast onto the slate blue Alagorisian cotton sheets.

Contentedly sighing, Jean-Luc studied her for a few moments, not bothering to disguise his sheer adoration of his wife. Her beauty as always, threatened to overwhelm him. But it was her flaws that he held most dear. The sprinkling of freckles, the birth mark in a rather interesting position on her breast, the fact that she snored… He counted his favorite flaws. And then he closed his eyes just for a minute.

Ninety minutes later, Beverly opened her eyes. Stretching, then glancing at the clock on her nightstand, she was surprised that it was after one in the afternoon. She hadn't realized that she would doze so long after her mid-morning delight with her husband. A fond smile crossed her lips as she considered their recent lovemaking. Then she glanced over at her husband, wondering what kind of mood he now was in. Except that he wasn't in any kind of mood. Instead, he was sleeping rather deeply as evidenced by his soft snoring.

For a moment she was amused. And then she paused as to recollect other mornings of exercise, tangos and sex over the past three weeks. Jean-Luc had slept deeply after those recent encounters as well. Was she wearing him out? She supposed that it was possible - especially if he wasn't getting enough sleep at night. Being married had not completely stopped his bouts of insomnia.

She slid out of bed and observed that her movements about their master suite had not disturbed him. Checking her padd for his schedule she noted that he had a meeting with Admiral Brand at two p.m.

Putting down her padd, she went into their joint dressing room, took a quick sonic shower, and donned her CMO's uniform. Her fingers fumbled for a moment as she put her admiral's bars onto her collar. She still wasn't quite used to wearing it. She wondered if she ever would get used to the weight of them…

Poking her head out of the dressing room, she saw that Jean-Luc had not yet awakened. Apparently her rummaging and dressing had not been enough noise to disturb him. Considering this fact for a moment and then picking up her medical scanner from her emergency kit that she kept on a shelf located in her two-thirds of the dressing room/closet, she walked over to the bed and scanned him. There appeared to be nothing wrong with her husband except for the fact that he was sleeping. For some reason, he really was tired.

Still, something started niggling in her brain cells. Something wasn't quite right…

Making up her mind, she walked through the dressing room, away from the bedroom, over to the sitting room that she had yet to start to decorate.

Her personal view screen was on a small French inlaid escritoire that had once belonged to Jean-Luc's Aunt Adele. Beverly had found it charming the first time she noticed it in storage. The writing desk and a small matching chair were the only furniture in the empty sitting room sorely in need of new wall paper and paint to cover the maroon walls with goldenrod trim. Redecorating this room was high on Beverly's to do list.

She powered up her view screen. A moment later she was put through to Admiral Brand.

"Beverly, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Mercedes. And you?"

"Rushed. And facing an ethical dilemma. I'm still debating how much of this mess I really should leave behind to be dumped onto Jean-Luc's strong shoulders."

Beverly laughed. "Jean-Luc loves a challenge. You've got grandbabies to spoil. So dump away. And that's partially why I'm calling. Jean-Luc can't make his meeting with you this afternoon." With a perfectly straight face, Beverly added, "Something came up."

Admiral Brand only blinked. "Good. Though he may be the first superintendent that played hooky before he took over. Anyway, that'll give me a chance to sort through more stuff before I officially turn everything over to him in thirteen days. I can hardly wait to spoil my great-grandchildren…"

Beverly shook her head. "Oh, Jean-Luc is not playing hooky, Mercedes. He already can identify by sight every cadet at the academy. And he'll know their scholastic records by the time he swears in."

"That's something I was never able to learn. The cadets - they kept a'changin'." Mercedes grinned. "After a while I just paid attention to the smart ones and the really dumb ones." She arched an eyebrow.

Beverly swallowed the bait. "I got the impression that Jean-Luc had crossed a captain or two when he was a cadet. That he wasn't the perfect cadet."

"When Jean-Luc was a cadet, he most definitely was not perfect. The great ones never are. Try and get your hands on Alynna Nechayev's opinion of him from back then, before he destroys those records…"

"Oh, Jean-Luc won't destroy any official records. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he uses his disreputable past as an example when lecturing some of those really dumb and smart cadets."

"You're probably right."

Beverly eyed the silver-haired, very forthright woman. "Why do I get the feeling that if you'd been Jean-Luc's superintendent you would have called him both smart and dumb."

"Considering how long it took him to marry you, you know your husband so well, Beverly."

Both ladies laughed together.

"Beverly, if he's up to it, I can see Jean-Luc tomorrow at one."

A very naughty response almost crossed Beverly's lips, but she wasn't that well acquainted with Admiral Brand. They might call each other by their first names, but a true, lasting friendship had yet to develop. Though Beverly did believe that it was certainly possible that a friendship was growing.

After signing off, Beverly rested against the back of her chair, considering her husband. Professionally, personally and ethically, she should no longer be his personal physician. It was one thing to be his CMO on board a star ship. It was another thing to continue in that position in a complex full of doctors. She needed to find a doctor to take over that duty. Picking the right doctor to deal with her husband was not going to be an easy task.

She mentally reviewed the few doctors with whom she was acquainted at Starfleet Medical. Making up her mind, she contacted another doctor that she knew. She needed more information before picking a physician.

A minute later the image of Captain Kate Pulaski appeared on her screen.

"Beverly! How good to see you. Missing your old job already?"

"Kate. You'd better believe I am missing my old sickbay. I knew where everything was there…" Beverly's gaze was wistful for a moment. Then she pulled herself together. "Kate, I need some advice."

"Depends."

Beverly laughed. "My request is easy - I think."

"Shoot." Kate waited for Beverly's response.

"I need to find a personal doctor for Jean-Luc." She had to wait for Kate to stop chortling.

"You're asking me? Ooohhh, the possibilities!"

Beverly interrupted her. "And for myself."

"Damn. I know the absolutely perfect personal physician for Captain, er, Admiral Jean-Luc Picard. But I wouldn't dream of inflicting such a crotchety, oh-so-rationally-superior, pain-in-the-ass Vulcan on you."

After Beverly stopped laughing, she asked, "Well, since you've been around Starfleet Medical a lot more than I have been during the past few years, I was wondering if there is anyone here that you'd recommend?"

Kate's eyes narrowed. She was sensing some sort of concern coming from Beverly. She suddenly became serious. "Is something wrong with Jean-Luc?"

"Not that I can detect. His scans show that everything is normal - or at least as normal as whatever is normal for him."

"You know, Beverly, that sentence actually makes sense to me." Both ladies laughed together again. "Beverly, I'll be sending you a few names of doctors I trust - and like. Run them by Mildred. She's got a pretty good take on how to handle Jean-Luc. And which one of these doctors would survive Jean-Luc. I pity the one you pick."

"Thanks, I think." Beverly grinned. "You don't pity the doctor that I'd pick for myself?"

"Don't be silly. Whomsoever is lucky enough to become your personal physician will be grateful for the privilege the rest of their professional lives."

Beverly was about to protest but she realized that Kate would have none of it. "Thank you, Kate."

"Don't be silly. You'd do the same for me. By the way, not that you heard it from me, but Mrs. Beck is pregnant. Nurse Beck has been floating around sick bay for the past few days - and he wasn't using an anti-grav unit."

Beverly chatted for a few more minutes, getting caught up on all the important gossip before Kate started complaining about her slave driver of commanding officer who was paging her to come to the bridge.

Letting Kate go, Beverly sat there for a while, mulling over things.

"I heard you laughing."

Looking up, Beverly saw her husband standing in the doorway of the dressing room, wearing only his well-worn grey robe. He walked over to the desk and bent down to kiss her cheek.

Beverly turned her head to make this gesture an affectionate quick kiss on the lips. Smiling, she rubbed her thumb over her husband's lips and removed the traces of her lip gloss, before she let him go.

"I was talking with Kate Pulaski."

Jean-Luc shuddered, before asking, "And is Will looking for a new CMO?"

Beverly chuckled. "No. Kate just had to tell me that Nurse Beck and his wife are expecting a baby." Knowing that inquiring about such things would never have occurred to Jean-Luc, Beverly smiled before she added, "And Captain Riker is a slave driver."

"Ah, he's following in my foot steps. Good for him."

Deciding not to brooch the subject of a new personal physician until she'd sorted through Kate's list of names after she'd received it, Beverly decided to change the subject.

"I talked with Admiral Brand."

"Oh?"

"She wants to see you tomorrow instead of today."

"I see." These words sounded ice cold.

Beverly could see his professional persona flowing over him. He thought that she was interfering - which she was; not that she would admit it to him.

"You were sound asleep, Jean-Luc. I really didn't think that I should disturb you." She let her fingers slide up his robe's collar until they reached his jaw line. Slowly she let her fingers traced the angles of his face, hoping to distract him.

"Why not? Disturb me, that is."

Beverly's smile held a shadow of sorrow as she answered him. "Your sleep has been disturbed far too many times during the past few years, Jean-Luc. I just thought that you should have a chance to listen to your body and do what your body is telling you to do when it isn't a life-or-death situation."

He paused, considered her words and then nodded. "You're right of course. Once I become Superintendent and you become ensconced at Starfleet Medical, I suspect that neither one of us will have that much time for naps in the afternoon."

Beverly walked her fingers down his bare chest. "Well, we don't just have to nap, you know."

"Beverly," he sighed, exasperated. "You are an insatiable wench."

"You say that like it's a bad thing…"

Her husband bent down and lifted his bride into his arms. "Much to my surprise, I am discovering that it is a highly-to-be-desired thing." He kissed her brow. Then he placed her back down on her desk chair.

"Jean-Luc…" she protested as his fingers swiftly undid her slacks.

"You're the one who got dressed, mon coeur…" Suddenly he stopped her undressing and asked, "Was there a reason why you're wearing your admiral's uniform?"

"I've a meeting - at four."

"Whatever shall we do for the next two hours?"

"Anything you wish, my darling, as long as we save enough time for a bath together."

Jean-Luc thought that her request was reasonable as he bent down to passionately kiss his bride.

Eventually they made it back to bed.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Mildred checked the interior house monitor and then sighed. You'd think they were teenagers… she mumbled to herself. Then she was also grateful that neither Admiral realized how closely they were being monitored. Jean-Luc knew about the security arrangements but she didn't think he'd comprehended just how precise they were. Of course, on board the Enterprise, he'd been subject to a similar scrutiny as well by his security officers. It was one thing to experience monitoring when you were captain of a ship. It is another thing entirely when you are in your own home.

Checking her messages in her private office, she wasn't that surprised to find one from Kate Pulaski. Reading it, she understood what Kate wanted her to do for Beverly. Actually, Krebbie had been expecting such a request. She'd already made up one of her infamous little lists of names, for Beverly, when the time came. And apparently, that time was now.

Having a pretty good idea of which doctor she'd recommend, Mildred closed down her terminal. Then went in search of Ludvig, Jean-Luc's personal chef for more than eight years. Mildred had hired Ludvig before Jean-Luc had even set foot on board the Enterprise. She knew that the man was happy to be back in San Francisco. Though he'd been on board the Enterprise since the beginning, when it came to formal functions which was an area in which he shined, Captain Jean-Luc Picard had sparsely used him. Though the Enterprise had had many diplomatic functions under the command of Captain Picard, these functions had been sporadic. In short, much as Ludvig liked being Captain Picard's personal chef, the man had been bored on board ship. But here, in San Francisco, he was anticipating being in his element.

Wandering through the large embassy size kitchen, Mildred finally found the man in the smaller kitchen that was used when there would only be a few people for dinner.

"Wesley's coming," she announced. "He's bringing Bronislawa with him."

Ludvig was suddenly happy. "Ah, Cadet Olezewski. Now there is a woman who appreciates fine cuisine. I'll add borscht to the menu." He arched an eyebrow. "Beverly will consider borscht to be healthy. The rest will simply enjoy." He suddenly paused. "I was only planning on a crème brulee with fresh raspberries for desert. Is that acceptable? Or should I bake something else…" He started wandering about the pantry, looking at what he had in stock.

"Luddie, you make the best crème brulee in Starfleet - better even than Winnie's chef. Even Jean-Luc cleans his plate when you make it."

This temperamental chef had a delighted smile at the thought of besting the head of Starfleet's chef. Fleet Admiral Winston Holt Wiley was famous for the cuisine that was served at his dinner parties. Few personal chefs in Starfleet came close to the level of expertise and sophistication as the admiral's legendary chef. But Ludvig had his ambitions. And his expectations that one day the Starfleet officer that he'd chosen to follow so many years ago would one day achieve the highest of heights whether it be through diplomacy or the admiralty. Ludvig really didn't care which. He just wanted his talents to be recognized at lofty levels. For that was his destiny.

"You wish to have your usual finder's fee?" Ludvig was always accommodating to Mildred, for she was the one who had chosen him for Picard in the first place.

"An order of crème brulee to go," Mildred cheerfully agreed anticipating a ramekin of heaven at the end of her long day.

Ludvig cleared his throat. "Cadet Olezewski, is she, uh, Cadet Crusher's date?"

"I think that they're just friends, Luddie. Near as I can tell, Brawny cares more for her warp engines than she does for her fellow cadets." She thought she caught a look of satisfaction in Luddie's gaze. "You're almost too old for her," Mildred warned. But she wasn't going to prevent Ludvig from pursuing the young lady, if he wished to do so. Branislava was a very smart senior cadet. When it came to everything mathematical or scientific, she excelled at it. But when it came to dealing with the opposite sex, she was lost in the stars. Ludvig just might be the answer.

"Good." Then Ludvig cleared his throat again. "How is the admiral?" Ludvig always used a certain tone of respectful voice whether he was referring to his captain who was now an admiral..

"Fine, I think." Ludvig was not a man inclined to seek out gossip. This concerned Mildred. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that Jean-Luc isn't following his usual dining patterns. He's actually been having second helpings lately."

"Oh." Mildred grinned. "Maybe he's just been getting more exercise. And is hungry."

"Perhaps."

As Ludvig wandered off to check on his casserole, Mildred pondered the chef's question. For she too had noticed something slightly off about Jean-Luc over the past few weeks too.