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Deanna sits back in satisfaction. "Dinner was lovely, Beverly, thank you. I have to say it's been a while since we had non-replicated food."
I smile over my glass, "thank you, Deanna. Looks as though I finally learned to cook after all this time!"
She laughs and jests, "I bet it's your rather massive kitchen that inspired the change?"
"Mmm, that and the availability of fresh meats and produce! So, Deanna," I shift the conversation, "when are you and Will getting married?"
She looks over towards the living room where the men are talking, shifting Saoirse in her arms, "Soon. We'd like you and your family to be present."
"Of course, Deanna. But…. You're not having a Betazoid wedding are you?" It's not that I have much to hide, and I do respect other cultures. But going naked in front of strangers is a little too much for my more conservative tastes.
She throws back her head and laughs, "God, no! I think my mother might be disappointed, though."
"No doubt," I laugh, thinking fondly of Lwaxana Troi; She is the most flamboyant woman that I've ever met- and she's got the hair and the wardrobe to prove it. I remember how that woman used to frazzle Jean Luc to no end! I don't know what she'd make of him now…
Her face becomes serious, "I still can't believe that man is the same Jean Luc Picard what was on the Enterprise. He's so similar, but he's so different, Beverly. I sense it. I sense it in the both of you. You're both happy. Your house is fully of joy and love. I want that for Will and me."
"You'll get it, Deanna." I promise. "What are you both thinking of doing now that you're not in Starfleet?"
The baby in her arms starts to fuss and I move in to take her squirming form. "We don't know, yet. I'm, we're torn, Beverly."
"Why, Deanna?"
"Because it seems such a waste to just walk away after all we've been through. If everyone who is disillusioned with Starfleet just walks away and no one stands up for what's right, then the organization will weaken and crumble."
I know and I hang my head, "I know. But Deanna, what can you do?"
"I don't know. Will and I have been down every avenue. We thought that his influence as a captain would be a little more far reaching. But the truth is that he's not as influential as your husband used to be. The admiralty has become closed-off. They used to communicate directly with the captains; now they're isolated and segregated. Even the good ones are unreachable. And, I just have a feeling that something's wrong. Every Betazoid I've talked to senses it so it's not just me. It's all so strange, Beverly…"
"I know, Deanna. When we were trying to get to the bottom of Wesley's situation, we contacted Owen Paris. And, Deanna, I swear something happened. He sent us this cryptic message through his aide and he couldn't speak to us at Starfleet. When he talked to us that evening, he called us from his home. He told us essentially what you and Will told us about the Romulans and the Cardassians. He at least was honest with us about Wesley's situation. He promised to do what he could for us, but we never heard from him again."
Deanna shook her head, "That's exactly what it's like. It's not the same place it was when you left." She looks up and tries to change the subject. "Are you happy with your work now that you've left?"
"Yes," I say certainly, "I'm joyful. I love my work, where I live. I'm, uh –" I don't know what to say, but Deanna knows.
"You're happier than you've ever been, Beverly. And you're in love." Yes. I am.
I smile back at her, "and you, Deanna?"
She looks down at her lap, "Yes. I'm glad that things are finally settling down. Will and I have been dancing around each other for years. I was getting tired of his dallying and my complacency. I talked to him about it. Like you two," she points in the direction of my husband, "we had a big long discussion and talked it all out and in the end we decided to get married and make a life for ourselves."
"So," I jest theatrically, "no roses, champagne, and horse-drawn carriages?"
She laughs and shakes her head, swaying her short brown locks around her face, "no. Not a one!"
