Jean-Luc was dumbfounded as she beat her fists against her knees in impotent rage. What the devil is wrong now? he wondered. She shook her head, arguing with a voice he couldn't hear. He sagged against the bulkhead, defeat creeping into his heart. They'd been so close. How could he have let himself believe she wanted him; wanted more than coffee and croissants? He was a fool.
Beverly opened her eyes and her soul shattered. The pain and confusion on Jean-Luc's face tore through her heart, making the slightest breath burn like Will's Twelve Alarm Texas Roast Sauce. Unable to bear it, she crawled toward him and placed her hands on his thighs; forcing him to meet her gaze.
"It's the children I worry about. I cannot let Nana's teachings be forgotten," Beverly tried to explain through hiccoughing gulps of air.
Children? Jean-Luc thought. What children? He shook his head. Surely she'd passed on the knowledge to young Wesley. "I don't understand," he replied as he placed his hands on her arms. He was a fool, and there was no way he could resist touching her – he might never get another opportunity.
"You believe the groundhog foretells the coming of spring, correct?"
"Yes."
"And your faith in that is unwavering?"
"Yes."
She chuckled bitterly. "And there lies the problem."
He must have looked like Geordi with a woman, because she smiled at his bewildered expression. He was completely lost.
Speaking as though to a very small child, she said, "If groundhogs predict the changing of the seasons; then there's no place for Brighid and her triumphant return." She sighed. "I just can't bear the thought of raising my children in a house devoid of my Celtic heritage." Her blue eyes sought his. "You see? This is why I have to leave."
Jean-Luc's brain flopped around like a beached cod. She wants to have children with me. He had no idea she'd ever considered that option.
Children? She's leaving because she wants to have sex with me.
The realization sent electricity pulsing through his veins. She thinks snowdrops and groundhogs are mutually exclusive.
He tried to force his thoughts into some semblance of order. Come on, Johnny, if you can get Cardassians and Romulans to back down from the brink of war, you can think of something that will allow rodents and plants to live happily ever after!
He closed his eyes and thought.
Your sex life depends on it! He thought harder.
"I wish we could get past this," Beverly whispered, caressing his cheek. Her heart was a squishy mass in the bottom of her boots as she pressed her forehead against his one last time. "But, I can't—"
"The thaw!" he blurted, louder than either expected. Beverly drew away, but he grabbed her and pulled her close to his chest, almost crushing her in his desperation to make her understand.
"The thaw," he repeated. "Brighid's presence defeats the witch's power over the land, allowing the soil to warm, yes?"
Beverly nodded.
"Perfect!" He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. He almost laughed, he was so giddy with excitement. Guess who's getting some tonight, Johnny-boy!
"I—"
"There's a little-known fact about groundhogs. The reason they're so adept at predicting the arrival of spring is because they are sensitive to the subtlest changes in soil temperature." He paused for effect. "Groundhogs can smell Brighid's feet!"
Beverly's jaw dropped. The problem, the agony, the irreconcilable difference that threatened to destroy her soul vapourized like Parnellian Pond Scum under her laser scalpel. With a last bitter—yet slightly nutty—aftertaste, her nightmare dissolved under the breath mint of Jean-Luc's unwavering love.
Wordlessly, for they were beyond words, these two whose souls were so intricately entwined, she gripped his face in both hands and showered kisses across his grinning visage. He pulled her back, seeking her mouth with his, desperate to reap the reward of inspired thinking. He was about to make a bold move for the fastener on her uniform top when a though occurred to him.
"Merde," he panted.
Puzzled, Beverly pulled back far enough to stare quizzically at him. He grinned sheepishly and said, "I left Mr. Data manning the transporter. He's waiting for my signal to beam us out of here."
She grinned and tapped his communicator, opening a channel.
"Picard to Data," he spoke to the air above his head as he continued to run his hands along her spine.
"Data here, sir. Were you successful? Shall I beam you two back?"
"Not just yet, Data," Beverly interjected as she winked at Jean-Luc. "Set yourself a timer and come back for us in forty-five minutes." She grinned lasciviously at the man propped against the bulkhead, amending, "Actually, you better make that an hour and a half. The captain and I still have several issues to explore."
"Understood. Data out."
"Now where were we?" Beverly purred in his ear as her slender fingers worked his tunic off his shoulders.
They made love surrounded by thousands of snowdrops, their subtle scent permeating every pore until Beverly had no idea where the flowers ended and she began. Afterward, in the glow of the warp nacelle's rainbow, Jean-Luc held the woman of his dreams in his arms and contentedly shared the history of his family's telepathic bond with groundhogs with her.
As they lazily caressed one another in a silence born of two souls becoming one, a single thought flittered through the air:
Best. Groundhog. Day. Ever.