"Men?" I repeat dumbly at we saunter through the halls. Instantly, in the light of what's happened, dread sinks in. Autonomically, in reaction to novel stimuli or situations, my pulse starts to speed, my breathing turns shallow, and my legs slow their forward pace. For a moment, I try to remember back two and a half years ago when novelty was something we yearned for. Now, however, I'm satisfied with the status quo; I'm fulfilled by days whose newness is only made of Saoirse learning a new word, or Aaron walking.
"Beverly," he looks back with the beginnings of a grin. "It's alright. Come." He tugs at my hand the rest of the way down the rest of the staircase and around the corner to the foyer.
My heart almost stops in relief.
"Gentlemen?" Jean Luc looks almost shocked, as he extends his hand. "It's, uh, good to see you again." He clears his throat. "You're no doubt here because of what happened?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Picard," The shorter man, (what's his name again? Agent… Agent… Cavan! That's it: Agent Cavan) starts. "We're sorry to see you again so soon, but what's happened here tonight has already spread like," he looks down, biting his tongue at his analogy. "Well, word's gotten out fast."
"What are you saying?" Jean Luc redistributes his weight on his feet, placing a hand over his right hip. "Do you know who's responsible for this?"
Cavan smirks, his partner saying nothing. "You've got a lot of enemies out there, Captain. Anyone could be responsible for this."
Something in his tone is irksome, dismissive of the gravity that belies what's happened – what almost happened. "My son and nephew were almost murdered this evening!" Jean Luc rages. "You don't have any answers, only to tell me that the press is going to get word of this?"
"Dad," Wesley comes from behind with a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?" He regards the two agents. "Gentlemen," he wipes his hand on his shirt before extending it in greeting. "Please excuse us, it's been a long evening."
"It's good to see you again, Mr. Crush-"
"It's Picard, actually," Wesley corrects firmly without hesitation or regard to any of us.
"Excuse me," Agent Cavan corrects. "It's good to see you, eh, Mr. Picard. Eh, we have some news," He returns his gaze to Jean Luc. "That might answer why your family was targeted, this evening in particular."
"Oh?" Jean Luc's reigned in his horns, no doubt calmed by Wesley's presence and softened by his gesture.
"You're being requested by the court to testify on behalf of the prosecution in what they're calling the 'Daystrom Trial'," he looks past us to the sitting room. "Would you mind if we came in?"
"Ooph!" Marie looks aghast, her hands coming up to cradle her morbid expression. "Excuse moi! Certainement!" She closes the door, eschewing the cool night air, as she leads us to the sitting room. A warm hand indicates itself in mine, swathing our fingers together as we sit opposite the two agents.
"Thank you," Cavan starts. "You," he turns to Wesley on Jean Luc's left. "Are being called up as the prime witness – after all you uncovered everything. But uh," he scans us. "All of you are going to be asked to give testimony."
"We knew as much," Wesley interjects. "Is that why we've been targeted?"
Cavan shrugs. "It's hard to say, but I'd assume as much."
"I remember," I interject in the stillness. "That you offered to put us into hiding – is that something that we should still consider?"
I look to Marie. She's scared and it's all over her. I wish that I could reach out to her; I wish I knew what to say. Jean Luc and I have become somewhat used to living in a harrowing state of emotional flux. We lived it like routine for 6 years on the Enterprise.
I instantaneously think back to the times when his life was in danger – Celtris III, Rutia, when he was captured and assimilated by the Borg… goodness the list goes on. And with Wesley, I'm no stranger to the fact that he's well able to get himself into trouble as evidenced by his actions with Nova Squadron, and more recently this. But Marie and Robert, nothing's ever happened to their son; he's always been protected. They know where he is at every moment. At night, they can sleep assured of his safety in the next room.
Cavan meets my gaze, "That's something that you and your family are going to have to consi-"
"Can't they stay here, with us?" Robert interrupts.
Jean Luc is adamant, "No, Robert! It's not fair of us to stay with you. We'll be putting you, Marie, and Renee in danger."
Robert begins to raise his hand in disagreement, but Jean Luc will have none of it as he firmly shuts him down. "Absolument pas, Robert!"
"What are our other options, other than going into hiding?" He looks to me, holding my gaze. "Is there any way that we can go home, return to our work, live our lives…" He pauses, silently revelling in that actuality. "Before the trial starts?"
Wesley interjects, "The press can't have stayed in Yakima this long; there's nothing there!"
"Listen," Cavan motions to quiet the hullaballoo. "If you want to go home, you're fully in your liberty to do so. However," He eyes us. "Just realize that when the trial starts up, there might be a rejuvenation of interest in your family, and you're going to need to be prepared to deal with that."
"But we're still going to be vulnerable," I whisper, gripping the hand holding mine a lot tighter as I go through the litany of mental machinations. "And we still don't know who's responsible for burning down the barn. They're going to find out soon enough that Wes and Renee aren't dead and then…" The eventuality strikes me and tears build at the possibility that next time we might not be as lucky. Next time, we might not have the luxury of old, sodden, and brittle wood.
"Well," Cavan clears his throat. "We can boost security and up your home's internal sensors. But, you're going to have to realize that your lives might never be the same. What you uncovered," He shifts. "Wesley, is just the tip of the iceberg. There are going to be a lot of changes in Starfleet and the Government that not everyone's going to like. And whether you like it or not," He gestures, speaking emphatically with not only his words but his hands and torso as well. "You're the poster child for that change. So, no matter where you are – there are going to be threats… For the time being."
/
"I still don't know what to do, Beverly," a warm breath tickles through my scalp.
"You're still awake?" I chuckle, thinking he'd left me to my own musings and nodded into a deep sleep like he usually does.
"Yes," I feel his body shift under mine as he repositions himself over me. "I can't sleep," a soft hand traces my nose as a smile insinuates itself on my face.
"Why are you smiling?" I don't know, I think immediately; I was wondering the same thing myself.
Oh, I smile wider, that's why: "Wesley."
He smirks, the hand moving lower over the soft skin of my neck, tickling small nerve endings and generating shards of excitement as he goes. "What about Wesley?"
"How eager he was to say his new name." I laugh. "He calmed you when he did that. You should have seen yourself!"
"What?" A wondrously serene grin is illuminated by the brightness of the moon as I admire the man perched over me.
"You were ready to pounce on Cavan this evening!"
He laughs, tickling my stomach. "Jean Luc!" I don't worry about waking anyone; we're alone on the third floor and the beams are solid. "You're going to pay for that," I try to throw him off of me, but he's having none of it as my hand is gently pinned to my side. "Jean Luc Picard! We're supposed to be having a serious convseration," I scold playfully.
"I know," he's mildly mockingly penitent. "I am sorry, Beverly." His arousal asserts itself automatically, wheedling itself between us, making known its own demands.
"Jean Luc?" I smirk.
That mockingly penitent look hasn't gone anywhere. "Beverly?"
"Like I said," my free hand snakes between us. "We're supposed to be having…" I drawl, my arm moving with agonizing slowness down to my goal. His skin is warm, like a radiator. Though his chest displays a rugged, though not overwhelming, tuft of hair, his hips are almost bare. The skin there is smooth and enticing, I note for the hundredth time as I now examine it delicately with the pads of my fingers. I love that every small touch draws tiny goosebumps of anticipation. They come over both of us each time, a small harbinger of our lust and desire for one another.
I keep his gaze trained on mine as my fingers mischievously slide over his boxers, drawing a moan of frustration as I elude the goal. "Oh I'm sorry," I tease as I draw him closer and back up my course. This time my fingers slide under the elastic at the waistband, hitting his erection instantaneously.
I feel his body jump before his hips meld into my own, "Beverly!"
Caught in the moment, I push his off of me and assert my own dominance. But, I smile, not before the white silk nightgown is quickly tossed over my head and thrown aside.
"What happened to that serious discussion?" his breathing's increased. In response, I look up; pretending as though I'm pondering a great thought as straddle his now full arousal.
"Oh that one?" I smirk, my lips closing on his. "I'm tabling it until morning."
Mels: Thanks Mel, I try to put more of these 'personal moments' in every once in a while! They make it fun to read, I think!
James: Thank you! Really appreciate your sticking with the story and commenting and everything :)!
Bekkah: I'm just as excited to see what happens! Thanks for reading and sticking with it :) Good to hear from you!
Zack: Thank you, Zack! I'm actually dying to know where this is going to end up! Who is really after the Picards, hmm?
Maddie: Thank you Maddie! Love hearing from you :)
Sasha: It's fun to write Beverly and Jean Luc together! Thanks for reading and keeping with it. Means a lot :)
Lydia: Thank you! You know whenever I see your name, I think of that book that I used to read about Lydia Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Great to hear from you :) thanks for reading
Martin: Thank you, Martin! Really touched that you're sticking with the story and that you're enjoying it so much. Makes it worth writing!
Linds: Thank you Linds, my faithful reader. Don't know what I'd do without you!
Reagan: Thanks a ton! Great to hear from you and glad that you're enjoying the story.
Thank you to anyone who I didn't mention - but I think I got all of you! Thanks again, for the hundredth time! Your feedback means the world. Now, what challenges await the Picards back in Yakima?
What other things do you, as readers want to see?