"So what did you end up doing?"

"Well," I throw my hands up in the disbelief, "He'll have to go in for surgery. Hope, I don't know how he's lived with it for that long and no one's said anything. The septum is almost completed deviated and it's occluding the left nasal passageway! I'm telling you I couldn't believe it when I saw the scans."

"Did it happen in an accident?"

"No. Uncorrected Marfan's Syndrome." I'm not complaining about my job. I've said over and over again that I love it. But, it does get a little routine at times. However, what I sometimes have to remind myself even after 25 years of practice, is that most of medicine is routine. Nevertheless, when you get those wild cases, it's such a thrill.

"You would think they would have corrected for Marfan's in the womb. We're in the 24th century for Pete's sake! There's no reason that anyone should be living with that risk. On another note, Bev, Betsey and Karla are really enjoying little Saoirse! I swear they've taken more holo photos of her than they have of their own children."

"I know! Do you know how much trouble Jean Luc has when he comes to pick her up? It's like he's negotiating a Cardassian hostage negotiation." I laugh remembering the first time Jean Luc came to pick her up – it took him an hour to get her out the door and into the car.

"How is Jean Luc taking to being a father?"

An involuntary chill runs down my spine when I picture my husband with our daughter. Seeing them together is something sanctified and precious. "He's, he's perfect with her. I have to admit that before she came I was a little worried, though."

"Oh?" Hope's eyebrow cocks as she looks up from her padd and brings her chair full circle.

"When we were on the Enterprise a while back we were hailed by a probe that requested Jean Luc by name. It's a very long story, but the probe had been programmed with a holographic representation of Bok, a Ferengi official who tried to murder Jean Luc years before-"

"What?!" Morbid amusement plays across Hope's features.

"Well, apparently in the effort to complete the task, Bok threatened Jean Luc's son in order to lure Jean Luc into a snare where he'd be vulnerable. Apparently, the original reason that Bok wanted Jean Luc dead was because Jean Luc killed Bok's son."

"Jean Luc has a son?"

"No, but Bok manipulated this young man named Jason Viggo to appear that he was Jean Luc's son."

"With integrative DNA overlay technology? That's banned everywhere in the quadrant though! How did he even get his hands on it?"

"Hope – Bok was Ferengi…"

"Oh, gotcha. So, go on?" She knows that's explanation enough!

"Well over 30 years Jean Luc had a brief romance with a young woman named Miranda Viggo. Somehow, Bok found out that they had an affair and that Miranda had a son. So, he decided to use him as a ploy to lure Jean Luc."

Hope loves a good story, "so," she's getting giddy, "what happened?"

"Well we rescued Jason who we thought to be in danger, I ran a DNA analysis and because of the tampering it came out that he was Jean Luc's son-"

"Right, but that was only because of the manipulation-" If she keeps cutting me off, I'll never finish this story!

"Correc-"

"So?! How did Jean Luc react to finding out he had a long lost son!?"

"Well this is why I was initially worried about him and our daughter: he was mortified! To be fair, I think that part of his feelings were due to the fact that Miranda had never told him that he had an alleged son and that he had missed over 20 years of this young man's life."

"So, I'm confused, why were you worried?"

"I know it's silly, but it took Jean Luc a long time to warm up to Jason. I understand why of course: he was in shock. But, there was no warmth between them. I think that Jean Luc just felt awkward with Jason. Foolishly, in the back of my mind I harboured a tiny fear that it might be slightly awkward this time."

"But, it's not, Bev. I've seen him with her. It's beautiful. I don't think that Gregg was that enthralled with our two little monsters."

I smile, the images of my husband holding our daughter flooding towards me. "Yes," I've been lucky.

"Well, Bev. We're done for the day. I think Bets and Karla have already gone home. Shall we take off?"

"Hmm. Let's go."

It's summer once again and the days have reverted to their traditional sleeplessness and grown balmy. In spite of the warmth, I love driving home along the solemn open roads with the car windows fully down. In these moments that I'm alone on the open road with the slight breeze rusting through my long hair, my life feels real and organic. I'm separated from the burden of technology that was imposed on me for most of my life. I feel simple, light.

I smile as I turn off the main road, slowing the car as I amble along our long, serpentine driveway. I remember one day we were driving home and we saw a mother deer and her foal off in the distance. Once they heard the car, they ran immediately. But for a moment, we were awe struck by the beauty.

Suddenly, and I can't pinpoint why, I have a niggling feeling that something's wrong. No, there's nothing overtly out of place or lugubrious, but as I shut down the car and walk up to the front door, something feels ominous.

"Jean Luc?" I call out.

No reply.

"I'm in the living room," I breathe a sigh of relief as I see him holding our sleeping daughter. At least they're safe and sound.

"Jean Luc, what's going on? It sounds like something's wrong."

"Beverly," His face looks pained and the atmosphere in the room is drawn and somber, "we have to talk."