AN: This is a little short story (two/three chapters total, probably) that I'm writing in response to a conversation that I had with a friend. This is a triad fic.

I own nothing from Star Trek. Please don't expect this to follow canon exactly. This is just for entertainment.

I hope that you enjoy! If you do, please let me know!

111

"Do you have everything?" Jean-Luc asked, eyeing Beverly's small bag that was slung over her shoulder. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"What would I have?" She asked. "Except—the few things I've replicated."

Jean-Luc frowned deeply.

"I'm terribly sorry that you lost everything—all your memories…"

Beverly laughed quietly.

"I didn't lose everything," she said. "Jack is well, and he's safe. And—he has a future ahead of him. A bright one, I hope. I found a few things, too, that I wasn't expecting. Besides, I still have the memories, Jean-Luc, even if the mementos are lost."

Jean-Luc smiled at her.

"I still have a few things at the Château that might jog your memory," he said. "If you're still sure you want to come."

Beverly didn't point out that she had few other appealing choices. Jack was going to the Academy. He would have housing there, and Starfleet would see that he was provided for when he finished his training. Beverly had been partially reinstated as something of an as-needed role, when she felt willing and able to provide her assistance with things, and she could go to Starfleet housing, if that's what she wanted, but she wanted to go with Jean-Luc. They still had things to talk about, and they still had things to work out, but she was looking forward to the possibilities that lie ahead of them.

She didn't say all that, though, for fear of miscommunication. Or, perhaps, she didn't say all of that because they were both simply still learning how to communicate with each other.

"I haven't changed my mind," she said, instead. "I'm sure that La Barre will be breathtaking."

Jean-Luc smiled.

"It's quite lovely," he said. He raised his eyebrows slightly, practically peeking at her in a way that still made him seem almost like the young officer she'd once known in what seemed like another lifetime. "But—I've seen far more lovely things…even now, in this moment."

Beverly felt her face grow warm. She shook her head gently. There was time for that. There was time for all of it.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked.

They were all disembarking. Many had already left for R and R. They'd all have a break before they were reassigned, as was quite normal after something as harrowing as what they'd all been through together. Jack was already gone. Beverly had said her goodbyes to him, kissing him and hugging him, secure in the knowledge that she would see him sooner rather than later. Jean-Luc had said his farewells, too, inviting Jack to the Château any time that he felt like coming for a break from the Academy.

There were very few of them left, now, who hadn't already departed. There were hardly any goodbyes—which they all pretended were always temporary—left to say.

"JL!" Beverly and Jean-Luc both turned to see Raffi moving toward them quickly. Seven walked a few steps behind her, much more slowly and serenely, with her hands behind her back. Both were smiling, though their smiles were slightly different. "You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Raffi," Jean-Luc said, offering open arms for a hug. "Off to…?" He asked, once he'd pulled out of the hug. He left it hanging for her to finish. Raffi looked at Seven, and Seven half-nodded. The two had been going through something of a break, but it appeared they had either worked out their differences or were at least willing to do so.

"We're gonna go on a vacation," Raffi said. "You know…relax. We're headed to a resort on Betazed."

"Betazed," Jean-Luc mused. "It's a beautiful planet. Peaceful and calm…for the most part. Though, it's not one of the most famed of the pleasure planets."

"We're looking for a different kind of pleasure, perhaps," Seven offered.

"They have great couples retreats," Raffi said. "Communication packages. Get in touch with yourself and your loved one. We thought—why not?"

"Why not, indeed," Jean-Luc mused. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

"What about you?" Raffi asked. "Will Laris be waiting for you in La Barre?"

Beverly couldn't explain the way that Raffi's words struck her. They might not have meant anything to her—she might have overlooked them entirely—except for the expression that came across Jean-Luc's face. Despite his synthetic body, his creator had done a wonderful job of making every function of it as close to his real body as it could be—every function—and so he'd blanched slightly when she'd spoken, and he'd glanced at Beverly with a somewhat shamed and guilty expression before Raffi even had the chance to look like she regretted speaking.

"Oh…" she said. "Well…I…uh…we…"

"We have to be going," Seven said, reading everything, perhaps, more clearly than even Beverly could. She tugged Raffi away, cutting off any further goodbyes. "We look forward to seeing you soon. May you both rest well."

Both of them had left with somewhat nervous smiles. Beverly wasn't smiling when Jean-Luc looked at her, and neither was he.

"I was going to tell you," he said.

"Tell me what?" Beverly asked.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you," Jean-Luc said. "And—I haven't been entirely alone in these years. There has been someone…"

"Laris?" Beverly asked. Jean-Luc nodded.

Beverly laughed nervously to herself. Her mind was racing, trying to decide what this meant…what it would mean.

"When were you going to tell me?" Beverly asked.

"It would seem that we both do a very poor job of disclosing things in a timely manner," Jean-Luc said. "I assure you, however, that I was going to tell you. Laris is on Chaltok IV. She…she told me to come to your aid when I received your message. She said she would wait for me. She'd hold a seat for me in a bar where she likes to watch the sunset."

"And, yet, we weren't going to Chaltok IV," Beverly pointed out.

"I thought—perhaps we could go to La Barre first," Jean-Luc said. "You could get settled. We could…talk."

"And leave Laris waiting at a bar on Chaltok IV?" Beverly asked. "No—Jean-Luc. I won't be party to that. You have to go to her. You have to talk to her. Then, we'll talk."

"I hardly know what to say to either of you," Jean-Luc admitted.

"Do you love her?" Beverly asked. Jean-Luc looked almost nauseous. Beverly pressed him, asking the same question once more. He sighed, finally, and nodded his head.

"It's not so very simple as it seems," he said. "I love Laris. I do. At a time when…when I was sure that there would never be love for me—at least not reciprocated love in which I could, at a time in my life when I was ready for such a thing, rest in, without worry or concern—Laris was there to offer me everything that I wanted."

Beverly smiled at him.

"That sounds pretty simple to me, Jean-Luc," Beverly said.

"But, you see, it isn't," Jean-Luc said. "Because…there is also such a thing to be said for love that has occupied your heart for so long that it feels as though it belongs to the very fabric of you. It's a part of all that you are. And the chance to have that love? To rest in that love? Well…it's another thing entirely…"

Beverly couldn't help but smile at him. She felt an ache in her chest that was mirrored by a similar ache in her throat.

"I love you, too," she admitted, though it wasn't the first time she'd said it. It was, however, the first time that she'd said it publicly. Anyone that was near them, if there had been anyone around to listen, might have heard it.

"Beverly…I…" Jean-Luc started. Beverly raised a hand to cut him off.

"But I'm going to make this simpler for you, Jean-Luc, than it was," Beverly said. "I'll go with you to Chaltok IV, if you like. I'll—even talk to Laris with you. I don't know what will come of it. I don't know what you'll decide or…what will happen. What I do know, though, is that I cannot be part of this, if you don't talk to her. If you don't at least talk to her, in person, and…make whatever decision there is to make there? I can't be in a relationship with you. So—hopefully, that helps to simplify things a bit for you."

Jean-Luc laughed and shook his head.

"I would expect no less of you," Jean-Luc said, "and I would respect you less if you urged me to simply abandon Laris on Chaltok IV. However, my intention was never not to speak to her. Her home has been the Château for decades, Beverly, and she would have eventually returned there. Still—I agree with you. She expected…or maybe hoped…that my absence would only last a few days. Instead, it's turned into a few weeks. I won't keep her waiting much longer."

"Any longer," Beverly corrected. "We'll go straight to Chaltok IV. The Château will be there, Jean-Luc, whenever this is sorted out."

"Beverly…" Jean-Luc started. He stopped. He opened his mouth like he meant to speak again. She could see that he was torn. He was conflicted. She felt it in her chest. She felt his anguish.

And she wished that she could find a way that this could end well for everyone. She didn't say that, though, because they were both quite poor, as Jean-Luc had somewhat pointed out, at saying what they meant, when they meant to say it.

"I'm not angry, Jean-Luc," Beverly assured him. "Besides—I've never been to Chaltok IV. And—if we're being honest? I'm looking forward to meeting the woman who actually got Jean-Luc Picard to think about settling down…"

"The circumstances were quite different," Jean-Luc said.

"And I'm looking forward to hearing about those, too," Beverly offered.

111

Finding some random bar on a planet would probably be a fool's errand for most, but Jean-Luc had the bar's information from previous communications he'd received from Laris while aboard the Titan—communications to which he'd never responded, thanks mostly to their experiences with Vadic and the Changelings.

They had taken a room at a hotel nearby, and they'd left their few belongings there. The hotel was within walking distance of the bar, and it was a nice evening. They'd walked to the bar, holding hands, but not finding the words to talk about what might happen when they got there.

Beverly still ached to help resolve things for Jean-Luc. She longed to know the right answer. She wanted what would make him the happiest—what would make them all the happiest they could possibly be. It seemed cruel that any of them should have their hearts broken.

But what was there to do?

Someone, it seemed, must end the evening with a broken heart.

At the bar, Jean-Luc didn't drop Beverly's hand. In fact, he held it tightly enough that she bit her lip at least twice to hold back her complaint over the strength of his grip. The bar wasn't packed by any stretch of the imagination. It may have great sunset views, but it was clear that most of the clientele must prefer to come in well after the sun had set.

They found the table easily enough. With her back to them, a Romulan woman sat reclining on her elbow.

Jean-Luc indicated her, but Beverly pulled him over to the bar and caught the attention of the bartender. One Romulan woman, from behind, may very well look like another, and some could have unexpectedly volatile tempers over things most women might overlook—like a case of mistaken identity.

"Excuse me…is that woman alone?" Beverly asked. "We're looking for someone…her name is Laris."

"Her name is Laris. Comes every night," the bartender said with a laugh. He shook his head. "Always drinks wine. Prefers the…you know it…the Château Picard. Some nights it's red. Some nights it's white. Some nights, like tonight, it's whatever she can drink down the fastest."

"Are you suggesting she's drunk?" Jean-Luc asked quickly.

"I'm not suggesting anything," the man said, clearly not knowing who Jean-Luc was or that he was in any way related to the wine that Laris apparently drank heavily at times. "See for yourself. I'll cut her off after she finishes the glass she's on. She's renting a place not far from here. A little house. I usually try to see to it that she gets home without any trouble on the nights that she's feeling a little under the weather, like tonight, and drinks too much."

"It won't be necessary tonight," Beverly said. "We'll see to it that she gets home safely. I have some credits, if she has a tab."

"Taken care of," the man said. "Of course—I don't know how I feel about her leaving with just anyone…"

"I tell you what," Beverly said, "if she doesn't want to leave with us, we'll leave you to see her home."

The man looked at her with a furrowed brow. He was a Tarmuvian. Beverly had met very few of them in her life, but they all had striking eyes. This man was no different. Those eyes pierced through her for a moment, and she respected that he was clearly concerned for Laris.

It also struck her that Laris was, evidently, the kind of woman that even a Tarmuvian barkeeper would be concerned about after having come to know her over the past few weeks.

"I'm keeping my eye on you," he said.

Beverly smiled at him.

"I wouldn't respect you if you didn't," she said.

As they approached Laris, her elbow slipped on the table and her head nearly fell off her hand. She jumped, straightening herself, and bumped the table. She cursed at the disruption and reached for the glass, clearly sloshing a little of what was left of her wine out of it. She grumbled something and reached for napkins.

"Let me help," Jean-Luc offered.

Laris turned quickly. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide with surprise.

Beverly was immediately struck by the woman. She was beautiful. She was a Southern Romulan, clearly indicated by her lack of forehead ridges. Physically, she was indistinguishable from a Vulcan.

And she was clearly shocked to see Jean-Luc there, but the shock melted away to something of a smile.

"Jean-Luc," she said.

Jean-Luc's smile, in response was genuine.

"Laris," he breathed out, reaching the table and reaching for the napkins she required.

"I didn't think you'd come," Laris said.

"I told you I would," Jean-Luc said.

"I thought you…" Laris started. She noticed Beverly, then. She looked at her. Their eyes met. Laris's smile slowly fell, and it made Beverly's chest ache inexplicably.

"I'm…Beverly…Crusher," Beverly offered. Each word made Laris flinch, slightly, like Beverly was wounding her. Beverly was sorry for any hurt she inflicted by being there.

Laris nodded her head gently. She stood to greet Beverly more formally or, rather, she at least meant to stand. As she stood, though, she either caught her foot on her chair or her feet betrayed her entirely. She stumbled and Beverly stepped forward to catch her quickly—her instincts and reflexes much faster than those of the clearly inebriated woman.

"Laris…!" Jean-Luc said, alarmed.

"You must be Laris," Beverly said, smiling at her and using a more soothing tone of voice than Jean-Luc's tone. Beverly didn't let go of the hold that she now had on the woman.

"I'm…" Laris said, clearly struggling with what should come next. From the look on her face, Beverly might have imagined it could have been quite a few things. She might have finished with her name. She might have said she was intoxicated, which they could all see. She might have said that she was embarrassed, which Beverly could also see, or that she was about to cry. She might have even said that she was about to be sick.

Her silence told Beverly that she wasn't sure which option to choose at the moment.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly said, "I think we should…leave now. I think we should take Laris somewhere…private…to talk." She looked back at Laris. "What do you say? Do you think…we could go somewhere private?"

Laris nodded. She visibly swallowed a few times, and Beverly wondered if she was about to find out just how much wine the woman had consumed. She braced herself for it.

"I can…walk," Laris managed.

"I'm sure you can," Beverly said, moving around to get a different hold on Laris, so that she could support her as they walked. "But…I like the company. Don't you? Jean-Luc…let's go. Fresh air will do us all some good."