Beverly had no idea how many times they'd made love. The number didn't matter. It got better every time. They were quickly learning what each gasp, each pause, each movement meant, and how to elicit the best from each other. She was amazed by Jean-Luc in ways that a day ago, she didn't even know existed. She suspected she'd done the same for him.

They'd crossed the final barrier between them. Knowing they could never go back to the way things were, they had both exposed their souls to each other. All their faults, their strengths, their eccentricities-- everything had been revealed. They treasured each other in ways neither of them could have imagined, let alone understood.

She gazed into the firelight, allowing her mind to rest until she felt Jean-Luc's gaze upon her. She turned toward him, seated next to her, extended her hand toward his. He grasped it, pulling her closer and stealing a kiss as he settled her across his lap.

"I'm going to miss this," she said, as she curled herself up in Jean-Luc's arms.

"What, kissing?" he quipped quietly, as he continued his stream of light kisses along her cheek.

"No. When we're up there, you're the captain. Here, you're Jean-Luc. You're relaxed for a change. It's good. I like not having to maintain an air of decorum."

"Well, then we shall have to declare a "no decorum zone," he teased with a silly grin.

Beverly couldn't help smiling in response.

"It occurs to me that I can't have you walking through the corridors at all hours in your pajamas. You may have to limit that to the 'no decorum zone."

Beverly grinned playfully, running her fingers along his jawline, "we can't have the captain being spotted early in the mornings trying to slip out of the 'no decorum zone' and back into his quarters either."

"Indeed." He paused for a minute as he picked up his tea cup. Noticing her full cup next to the pot on the trivet, she picked hers up too.

Sipping her tea, Beverly added, "I suppose the only question is if you are moving into my quarters, or if I am moving into yours?"

Jean-Luc smiled back, delighted, "we do have a full day of leave ahead of us tomorrow. We could probably get settled into one place or another in that time."

Beverly's eyes narrowed for a moment as she set her cup down, then took his and set it down as well, "how many bathroom drawers do you use?"

Jean-Luc thought for a minute, "Three. One big one and two little ones. There are eight in my bathroom now, four small, two medium, two large. Will five suffice?"

Beverly nodded, "more than plenty, your place it is."

"Anything else?" he asked, his tone more serious, "There must be something more important than bathroom drawers."

Beverly's lips quirked as she thought for a minute, then added, "maybe an additional shelf for my plants, but that's all I can think of for the moment. I admit though, I am easily distracted right now," she finished with series of kisses across his cheek.

"I suppose you're reserving the right to change whatever else you feel is appropriate at an unspecified time in the future," he playfully responded.

"Would you like a five minute warning?" Beverly answered mischievously.

"Why ruin the surprise?" He said as he kissed her again.

They sat back, watching the firelight and drinking tea in a comfortable silence, until Beverly began to smile, then chuckle to herself.

"What are you thinking about?" Jean-Luc's curiosity was evident in his voice as he raised his eyebrows, his smile still firmly in place.

"Remember all those betting pools on when we'd get together? I wonder who just won," she grinned.

"Well," Jean-Luc laughed, "my guess is Will Riker hedged his bets on enough of them that he could probably buy the entire Ferengi Alliance," he replied, chuckling too. "Though I must admit, it's rare that I get to hear a rumor about myself anymore that doesn't also include you."

They fell into silence. Beverly felt her eyebrows furrow as she struggled with the reality that had occurred to her moments before.

"Beverly, what is it?"

Sipping her tea, Beverly's eyes narrowed as she tried to pinpoint an emotion, a thought, something that would help her understand what she was troubled by.

"I don't know. It's...," she took a breath, and a sip of tea, then began pulling on her sleeve with her fingers. "It's something about the idea of the rumors... I'm not sure," she shook her head. "It's not that I'm bothered, or that it's an intrusion. No, neither of those are quite right," she finished, speaking as much to herself as to him as she set her cup down. Realizing she wasn't much good for conversation at the moment, she dismissed it from her mind, adding, "It's probably nothing." She picked up her cup and took another sip of her tea.

"Beverly, I'm fairly certain that I know what it is." Jean-Luc's voice was quieter, measured, and very even-toned now, and experience told her she wasn't going to like whatever it was he was about to say. The feeling of dread intensified, and she found herself putting down her cup and reaching out for Jean-Luc's hand.

"What is it?" She asked, holding on to his fingers as though he could anchor her, bracing her for whatever it was.

"It's because there's some measure of truth to the rumors. Before, we could laugh it off, believing there wasn't anything more between us. For that reason, those harmless rumors of old, now feel like a violation of your privacy."

She could tell he was gauging her response. Maybe that is it. No. Doesn't feel right. There have been too many lurid tales over the years... Think, Beverly! Her eyes were now barely slits, and her forehead creased in thought again. After a few moments of soul searching, she realized it was true. Jean-Luc is right. Our lives can't ever truly be private- at least not on a ship with eight hundred fifty five crew- not to mention a whole fleet just a subspace transmission away. Beverly found herself nodding in agreement.

"That's it, Jean-Luc." She looked up at him, not realizing when she had started looking down at their hands. "That's what it is. It's the feeling that we have no privacy. It's not like here in France, where we can share the innermost parts of ourselves with each other, and not necessarily the entire crew." She could feel the tension inside her dissipate, and let go of his hand. "Is it bothering you too?"

"No." Jean-Luc's voice was wary, accompanied by a self-deprecating smile. "I came to accept the loss of my privacy a long time ago. I admit, it has shaped me over the years. I remember when I first became a captain and what it took to learn these things. It hurt me tremendously then."

"You're right. I guess this is something I'll have to get used to, isn't it?" She asked, pulling on her sleeve. Beverly refilled both their cups, and set the pot back down.

"What about the crew? Every time something happens that involves Medical, everyone will assume that your choices are based more on me and our relationship than on facts. I don't want that for either of us, or my section."

"There are those among the crew," he began in a deliberate, measured tone, "present and former, who have all ready been thinking that for more than a dozen years now, Beverly. Just like the ones who feel that you get special treatment that no other senior staff get. They will see by the actions taken, and the outcome of those actions, that our motivations were not then, and are not now, biased in any way, just as they always have before."

"When did that happen? You never told me anyone thought I got special treatment." Beverly crossed her arms in front of her.

"That's because no one ever has." Jean-Luc gave her his most reassuring smile. "I'm sure that someone at some point most certainly thought of it, perhaps because of the rumors, but no one has ever considered it serious enough to have given voice to such a concern." She watched his shoulders relax as he continued, "I believe that we can agree, it's a common issue when anyone in a position of authority either becomes, or has the appearance of becoming, involved with another person in a similar position of authority. We're both well aware of the frequency with which gossip focuses on the two of us. I've given due diligence to the topic over the years, to ensure that such concerns were never given more than a passing thought. And as long as everyone, yourself included, felt things were handled in a fair and equitable manner, my efforts have been satisfactory."

"Good point." Beverly conceded. I guess there's no reason to keep arguing that. "What if Starfleet Command uses this as an excuse to question your objectivity? They fought with Will about having Deanna on his senior staff. They said she'd have more sway over him than was appropriate. Why would you be any different?"

Jean-Luc turned toward her, meeting her eyes as he took her hands, "Beverly, you are far more important to me than Starfleet. I can tell you without a doubt that if I were forced to, I'd choose you without any deliberation or regret." Beverly watched a number of emotions, from tumultuous to more content fill his eyes.

Beverly frowned. Are you listening to yourself, Jean-Luc? You can't give up the command chair, regardless of what you say. It's who you are. Starfleet has been the center of your life for more than a half century! You choosing anything over Starfleet? I can't even imagine that happening.

"What about your ability to make command decisions? You just admitted that given the choice between me and Starfleet, you'll pick me." Beverly thought, "There's no way, given his duties, that he could do that even if he felt that way. But if we're going to have this conversation, we may as well at least use this scenario as an example, regardless of how far fetched it is. "As long as you do that, it's going to create a problem. Where do you draw the line, Jean-Luc?"

Beverly looked into his eyes. She wanted to see certainty; that he would make the right choices for the right reasons, regardless of what was between them. She watched as he sighed and looked down at their hands. Not the answer I'm looking for.

"You're right, Beverly. That's something that could become a problem. And I could ask the same of you. Can you maintain your objectivity as a doctor and still treat me in a triage situation? Or would you loose your objectivity?"

Beverly sank back in the chair again, closing her eyes in thought for a moment. I wonder if he's worried about me not maintaining my professional objectivity? No. He would have said that if it's what he was getting at. She turned her head toward Jean-Luc, as she reopened her eyes. "I suppose I have the better of the options between us. I can assign another doctor to be your attending physician, and I can still treat other patients. Doctors are allowed to question each other's objectivity. It's part of the territory, particularly when one spends years at a time with the same crew on the same ship. You'd have to relinquish command and return to quarters, which, depending on the situation, may not be possible."

Jean-Luc sat back in his chair as well, returning her gaze. "Agreed. The options are limited. However, it's a risk I'm more than willing to take."

Beverly smiled as she sat back, content, until she saw Jean-Luc's jaw tighten and his shoulders stiffen.

"What is it?" Beverly asked, sitting forward.

"It's difficult. I can't..." He sat forward as he stopped, closed his mouth, and took a deep breath.

After a few moments, he continued. "Please, understand that this is something that has plagued me for a long time; long before you left the Enterprise for Starfleet Medical or Kevratas." Jean-Luc's voice grew quieter, his eyes more intense. "I love you. So much so that there are times when ordering you into a hazardous situation, whether it's a dangerous away team or part of a mission, is agonizing. If something were ever to happen to you, or if we had to leave..." Jean-Luc's voice drifted off as he broke their gaze and looked down.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly began, as she reached out, tipping his chin up so she could meet his eyes, "I took an oath to Starfleet, just as you did. We've both agreed long ago to take the risks that come with our jobs."

"I know," he replied, his eyes revealing the turmoil within him as he took her hands in his own, "and I can't treat you any differently than anyone else when we're on duty. It would be an abuse of my position, it would force you to compromise your integrity both personally and professionally, and such a decision could endanger lives. I can't allow that."

She leaned toward him until their foreheads touched, "I know that if it ever were necessary for you to order me to take those kind of risks, you'd do so because it's the right thing to do, regardless of how much it would hurt. I understand it, and how difficult such a decision could be. It's part of why I love you."

Beverly watched the tension drain from Jean-Luc, and could hear the relief in his hushed response. "Thank you, Beverly."

"Honestly," Beverly gave Jean-Luc a small smile, as she ran her fingers along his cheek, "I'd much prefer it if you didn't go on away teams or take other hazardous assignments either."

She felt Jean-Luc touch her hand that rested against his chin, instinctively wrapping his fingers around her own. He stood, drawing her up against him as he did so, still matching her eyes. She could smell Jean-Luc's cologne and feel the heat of his breath on her face. He moved their joined hands around her waist, his other hand settling on her opposite hip, sending a spike of heat through her so fierce that she felt her breath catch in her throat. Jean-Luc's eyes danced with anticipation, as his lips grazed hers. She closed her eyes, freeing her hand from his, up across his back, allowing herself to soften into his arms, his mouth....