Because Martin can't be kept waiting :)
Hello again, Old Friend, I simper into the darkness. It hasn't been that long; I wasn't expecting you back so soon. Restlessly, I turn on my side, fitting my leg over Jean Luc's well-muscled thigh and laying my head softly against his chest as I hone in on the rhythmic click of the alloy valves. I alight gently as not to wake him while I make myself comfortable.
Ooph! There's that familiar sticky wetness between my thighs accompanied by that glorious dull ache that speaks to a well-enjoyed exertion. I always feel messy after sex. A slight cringe comes over me as I foolishly remember my first time. Jack. I was young and scared; he was rough, selfish as he took from me one posession that I could never reclaim. I roll my eyes. Why does Jack keep cropping up in my thoughts? I usually don't dwell on things...
Now, Beverly, let's be honest: you dwelt upon Jean Luc for over 20 years. And you still do.
No, no, but this time is different. There's something not right about what happened and I can't put my finger on it. None of this is right! Call it woman's intuition, but there's something more here that doesn't yet meet the eye. I still can't fathom how anyone found us. We took such care to slip away with the greatest anonymity. The only people who knew where we were going were our close friends – the ones that came to visit us just this evening. Was it really this evening? Well, I look at the chronometer on Jean Luc's side of the bed – it was yesterday evening now. I don't think it will ever cease to amaze me how quickly things can change. We went from a lovely evening with our friends, celebrating Wesley's news and delighting in old memories, to almost losing Wesley and Renee in a gruesome fire. Everything that I hold dear to me could have be lost in that moment, without any prior knowledge. That understanding causes me to grab tighter to the warm form next to me; I can't lose our children, and I can't lose him.
"Beverly?" A sleepy voice croaks.
"Oh Jean Luc!" My embrace must have been more aggressive than I thought. "I'm sorry," I soothe, laying a kiss over his heart. "Go back to sleep."
"Beverly," His voice is steadier now. "Why aren't you asleep?"
"I can't." I mold my face against his chest, inhaling that familiar, comforting, heady scent.
I feel a change in his position as my body is listlessly turned and his fresh, unintentional arousal presses enticingly into my back. The comforter falls away, exposing my bare torso to the cool air of the bedroom. A warm arm, though, winds over my waist, rests on my on the jaggedness of my hip, and a protective hand splays possessively over my abdomen.
"Why can't you sleep?" Tepid air warms my neck and, together with the heat of his body, effectively shields me from the chilliness of the early morning air.
"Jean Luc," I smile, turning slightly to kiss the dimple on his chin. "You're tired. Go to sleep; we'll talk in the morning."
"Beverly," he chides, clearing his throat. "I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me."
An audible breath leaves my nose as I fixate on a spot on the dark wall, trying to formulate what I want to say without sounding like a broken record. "Something's not right, Jean Luc. It's," Is he going to think I'm crazy? "It's Jack. I can't… I don't.."
"I know," he confirms, in a moment making me feel less alone, less outlandishly bizarre.
"You do?" I turn in his arms, facing him, needing more than just auditory confirmation.
A gush of wind exits his chest, leaving a momentary depression. "Yes. I don't know what it is. We saw him die; I fired the phaser on maximum right at his chest for goodness sake!" The hand resting on my waist moves up, over the curve of my breast to stop on the sharp, jutting outline of my shoulder. "I dreamt, just for a moment, about him." He rolls his eyes. "I can't even remember the dream; it's hazy, fragmented. I just remember feeling that something wasn't right."
I change the subject. "Are we going home?"
"Do you think we should?" He turns the question on me, putting the ball in my court.
"Oh no," I move in closer. "This needs to be a joint decision!"
He smirks at being caught. "I think we should. You?"
"Yes," I sigh. "I love being here, Jean Luc. I enjoy being with Robert and Marie, and giving Renee a chance to spend time with Wesley, Saoirse, and Aaron… but this isn't home," I catch my faux pas. "I meant! I meant it is-"
"No," he shakes his head. "It's not."
I lower my eyes, "It's your home, though, Jean Luc. You grew up here."
"No, Beverly," He shakes his head and closes the last distance between us. "You're my home. Where you are, where Wesley is, where Saoirse and Aaron are – that's where home is. But," he concedes. "Yakima is technically our home. And you're right, while I love being here with our family, it's time we stopped running and got on with our lives."
"You're not afraid?" I ask with a hint of trepidation.
"Yes," he nods, a finger twirling itself playfully through a mussed strand of my hair. "I'm afraid, nervous. I don't know what to expect, but…"
"But" I confirm. "It's home and it's time."
He nods with a reassuring smile. "Yes and whatever waits for us, we'll deal with it as a family."
Before I answer him with my words, I topple him, kissing him soundly as I open his mouth to mine. "I love you, Jean Luc."
A gentle hand traces my cheek, "I love you, Beverly Picard," he sighs. "Let's go home."
/
"So, you're really leaving?" Marie whines almost childishly as we gather our bags near the door.
"Marie," I face her, smiling as I grip her slender shoulders. "Yes. And," I narrow my eyes for theatric purposes, "You know why."
Her figure slumps in acquiescence, "Ok, mais, Beverly, please don't stay gone for too long." She smiles before hugging me to her. "We love having you with us. And," She regards me fully. "If Wesley hadn't been there for Renee, I don't know what would have happened. We're very proud of him," she smiles. "Robert is so honoured that he's taking our last name."
"Really?" I half expected Robert to object!
"Ouis. He's proud of him as if he were his own son. So please," She supplicates. "Don't stay gone for long."
"We won't. Once this whole," I conjure an unseen jumble in the air, searching for the right word for this debacle. "Thing," is honestly and ineloquently the best I can come up with. "Is over, we'll be back. I promise."
"You promise?" She grins.
"Yes, Marie!" I laugh. "What's gotten into you?"
"I don't know," she turns away coyly. "We'll have to see in nine months!"
For a moment I'm dumbstruck, and then the news hits me. "Marie!"
"What's all this commotion?" A laughing kiss plants itself on my hair.
"Marie?" I goad before I say the words.
"Ouis…" A blush creeps upon her cheeks.
"What's going on?" Wesley comes down the stairs with a veritable thud, a bouncing red head in his arms.
"Well," I turn, tears of joy in my eyes. "Marie has some news."
"What kind of news – Ouch! Saoirse!" He looks back from the mischievous little girl. "What kind of news, Marie?"
"Oh you're going to tell them?" Robert chuckles, a baby on his own shoulder, as he ushers through the door a very excited 13 year old.
"Tell us what?!" Jean Luc exasperates.
"Well," that blush that started on her cheeks travels all the way to her pale neck. "Robert and I are expecting!"
"Marie!" I don't think I've let out a squeal like that since I was fourteen. "Marie that's wonderful!"
"Well," Jean Luc looks down, a huge grin plastered to his face. "We definitely won't be staying away very long this time!"
/
"Jean Luc we left the car here, didn't we?" The cool Yakima air is such a welcome respite from the hot, sweltering heat of Labarre. I'd almost forgotten how much I love summer here in the Valley; it's warm, but never hot.
"Mmm," He picks up the bag, trying his hardest not to jostle the sleeping baby. "I think we parked it," He scans the car park, a hand over his eyes to shield from the high sun.
"Oh!" Wes chimes in, pointing to the far west corner. "Right over there."
"Good eye, W-es," He struggles with the bag, the strain hitching in his voice.
"Here, Dad," Wesley exchanges the heavier sac for his lighter one. "I'll get these and Mom can just carry Saoirse."
The town is practically empty on a Sunday. And for that, we're all grateful. There are no signs of the press in the center of town. It feels normal, homey and familiar, as we drive through near-empty streets to reach the house.
"It feels good to be back in Yakima," Wesley insinuates himself in between the two front seats as he leans into the stream of tepid air coming through the open window.
"And," he laughs. "It smells like summer." And it does. There's the faint hint of pine and fresh leaves mingled with wild strawberries that graces the air. So different, I think, to the violets, lavender, and lilacs that we savored in France.
A faint smile lingers on all of us as we take the turn off the main road onto our little driveway. The temperature drops as we amble along the heavily shaded, sonorous path. As is our habit we look on either side, greedily anticipating a view of the deer that live in these untouched forests.
But then, out of the serenity, again comes that gnawing creature that we've become so accustomed to. No, no there's no press here. Yes, the lawn looks a little worse for wear and I'll have to spend the next few days fixing the trampled garden. But that's not what we're looking at.
"Dad," Wesley's voice is still. "Why is the front door open?"
Thanks again, Everyone, for all the ideas! Alright, I've got a few things up my sleeve that I'm excited to share with you all. Sorry it took so long to get this up; I was getting my 'mojo' :). Honestly your reviews goad me into writing and keep me on track so keep them coming so I don't stray :)
Linds: Thank you very much for all your lovely compliments :). Not sure if they're deserved, but they're loved. I'm excited for what's in store too!
Sasha: Thanks a million, love! Yes, I will try to work that scene that you have in mind in somewhere! Thank you for keeping up with the story and being so involved. Means a whole lot :)
Martin: This chapter is for you, Martin. Because you absolutely can't be kept waiting and I love it! I got your message and I was like "Oh better hurry up!" So, thank you for that. And, I will be working in a few more of your favourite scenes here and there! I got you ;)
Meg: Thanks so much for reading and keeping up with this TOME! I know - I really liked when Wesley corrected Cavan and told him his name was Picard. Stay tuned for more scenes like that :)
Mels: Can't wait to for you to see what I have in store! Can't tell you how much it means to hear from you. It's much much much appreciated! I hope you like what I've got up my sleeve!
Reagan: Yes I have to say again how much I freaking love your name and want to steal it because it's so amazing. Thanks so much and so great to hear from you :)
Max: about to work some more Jean Luc/ Wes time in here so stay tuned for that. Always love hearing from you and your comments are coveted so keep them coming! Thank you :)
Tiffany: Thank you, Tiff! I think you're going to love what I have in store for everyone
Again, all your comments are loved and cherished and I read them over and over to glean more ideas and really shape this story - it's as much yours as it is mine and we're all in this adventure together so don't hesitate to post :) Thank you guys - you're really making a boring medical student's summer (my last summer break EVER) really epic!