Lucky for Jean Luc, we're running late on the morning of the wedding, leaving less time for him to be forced to interact with Lwaxana Troi. We planned to be a little late in deference to his wishes not to be hassled. Wes and I were only too happy to oblige. Yet again, though, we underestimate Lwaxana.
The crowd gathered at the venue is indeed extensive. We enter the wedding hall, looking for people that we know. So far, it's just a conglomeration of Starfleet personnel we've never met and, assumedly, Deanna's relatives from Betazed.
Jean Luc and I, though, are recognized. Muttering starts in the crowd as we make out way to our seat. Honestly, we hadn't considered the possibility that we'd be recognized. Almost no one where we live is aware of who we were before we came to Yakima. Most people don't even ask. We're so far removed from the life that we used to live. I remember the days where we were engaging in stellar battles and wrestling with deleterious spatial phenomena! There'd be days where we feared for our lives and the wellbeing of the crew. Now, though, we live relatively pedestrian, quiet lives. Jean Luc has augmented his renown in the archaeological community by publishing a few papers. But other than that, like I said, we're quiet, private people.
"JEAN LUC PICAAARD?!" A familiar, dulcet tone rings through the hall, drawing even more unwanted attention to our small brood.
I watch as he steels his face with the most benign smile.
"Oh Jean Luc! Is that you? You look handsome!" She grabs his shoulders and practically inspects him. "Not as uptight as you used to be!" She adds wryly. Wes and I just smile, enjoying the comedy. But that enjoyment is short lived as she turns to me. "Oh my goodness, Beverly Crusher is that you!?"
I smile and nod my head. "It's Beverly Picard, but yes!"
She claps her hands histrionically. "Oh!" She exclaims rather loudly. "I always knew that you two would get married! I just knew it! I mean I had serious doubts for a good while, but I always knew! As you know, Beverly" she turns to me, her hands still planted on Jean Luc, "well – I don't know if I should tell you this – but Jean Luc-"
He clears his throat cutting of her next sentence. This really isn't a conversation for prying ears and onlookers. She chortles, swats him playfully, and turns her attention back to me. "Beverly you look so radiant, but still much too thin!" I never understood how she could combine compliments and criticisms so subtly. She then leans into me and loudly adds: "And I suppose you're the reason behind Jean Luc's rather relaxed demeanor". I really have no idea what to say to that. Saying yes would be too much so I just smile and get a knowing wink in return.
She totally ignores Wesley, thankfully, and the sleeping body propped on his shoulder. For that, I am relieved. The last thing I want is a fussy baby during a wedding ceremony. And we'll be lucky if she just sleeps through the excitement of the actual ceremony. Fingers crossed.
"Well," she moves gracefully past us "I'm going to attend to Deanna!" She starts walking away. I let myself sigh in relief; we're in the clea-
"Oh and Jean Luc," she turns back. "You and I have a dance later." She winks a second time and turns off, her dress flamboyantly trailing in her wake. I pat my husband on the arm. "I promise I won't let that happen."