Did you think that I abandoned you? No, I just had an exam today and then I had a little trouble getting my mojo back. But, alas, I would not disappoint! Thanks guys for nagging me or this never would have gone up. So a big thanks to Bekkah, Mels, Martin, and Linds. This is for you guys! And a huge thanks to everyone else! I wanted to get this up so I will respond to all of you in my next chapter! Love you guys! Thank you :)
"A rank pip?" I look up, examining the familiar disc in the dim light. "Kitten where did you find this?"
She looks around, nervous, as if to cry. "Papa?" She looks questionably at Jean Luc.
His face softens instantly, seeing the distress of his little girl as he lifts her out of Wesley's arms. "Let's move into the corridor," He whispers, ushering us out and shutting off the lights in Aaron's room.
"Kitten," He tenderly kisses her disheveled hair. "We're not angry," He soothes, directing her gaze to his. "Can you tell us where you found this?"
"Mmmm.." She struggles ponderously. "Papa," She looks at him with bright eyes as she reaches inquisitively for her treasure. "That." She points, consternation playing at her. "That!" She points to my hand again.
"Here, Kitten," I soothe, placing the shiny disc back in her tiny hand. "Kitten where did you find this?"
"Stairs," she points satisfactorily at the staircase.
"You found it downstairs?" Wesley probes.
She nods her head vigorously before turning her attention back to the tiny pip. "Stairs," she returns her attention to her prize.
Jean Luc smirks and kisses her head. "I don't think we're going to get an 'x marks the spot' out of her this evening." He looks back to her. "Kitten, can Papa take that for now?"
"No," she looks up, tightly fisting the novelty. "Mine," She pleads.
"You can have it, baby girl," I laugh. "But in the morning, okay?" I open her little palm. "Okay?" I confirm, looking into her sweetly inquisitive face.
"Mmkay," she yawns.
"I'll put her to bed," he laughs as he repositions her in his arm and continues down the dark hall to her room.
Where in the hell could a rank pip have come from? Mine? Jean Luc's? As if reading my thoughts, "Mom, are you sure this isn't one of yours or one of dad's?"
I turn the question back on him, "Could it be one of yours?" He wore them too, after all.
He looks down, "No," He sighs definitively. "I had to turn in my uniform and my pips when I left the academy. I came home in civvies. But," He looks at me. " The day that you two came to see me at the Academy, right after you resigned, you were still wearing your uniforms – did you keep them?"
"Yes, but they're in the closet," I turn to walk into the bedroom with Wesley on my heels. "I thought," I rummage through the oversized bureau, "Aha!" I found them. "Here Dad's four." Where are mine? "Oh! And here are my three. So," I meet his gaze again. "That's definitely not ours."
"Well then whose is it?" He throws his head back, exasperated, frustrated and tired.
"Come on, Wes." I take his hand. "Let's sort out your room while Jean Luc is putting Saoirse to bed and we'll talk about it," I tug on his arm, bringing his attention back to me. "Okay?"
He nods, "Okay?"
"I'm so tired, Mom!" He yawns, leading the way down the long hallway to his bedroom. Oh God, it really is a mess. It was already in shambles when we left for the Daystrom Institute. That was the last time that I was here. I look to the right of his bed at the pillow I threw down in desperation when I found out that he was missing. Instantaneously, I look back to him, just confirming that he's really here.
"What, Mom?" I must be staring.
"Nothing," I shake my head. "It's been quite a ride, hasn't it!" I try to laugh as I bend over to pick up his crumpled bedclothes. I try to keep it light, but the truth is that I'm terrified – and that damn pip only heightens my anxiety.
Papers are still strewn all over the floor, pads decorate the bed and clothes are strewn every which way. "Where do you want to start?" I ask, eyes feasting on the maelstrom.
"Honestly," he yawns again. "If we could just clear off my bed, I just want to go to sleep." He blocks out the disaster, "All I want to do right now is go to bed."
Clothes are hung on chairs, papers are summarily thrown aimlessly into piles and soon enough the room looks semi-livable. "Thanks, Mom," his too-thin form gathers me against him. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I kiss his cheek. Is it silly that I'm not ready to go just yet? So I linger, just a moment, relishing in the contact that I have with him.
"Beverly?" A familiar hand insinuates itself on my arm.
"Is she asleep?" I turn around, withdrawing just a bit as Wesley pulls away.
Jean Luc moves to embrace his son, just as I did a moment before. "We're glad that you're with us, Wes." He muffles against his full head of brown hair. As if having the same thoughts that I had just a moment ago, "The last time we were in your room, you were missing and we thought we'd never find you." He pulls away, not before planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "It's good to have you home with us." He sighs, "It's good to be together."
"Thanks," Wesley rubs his eyes. "Yes," he nods in return. "It's good to be home."
His hand takes mine as he leads me out of the room, "I love you," Wesley calls back at us. "We'll talk about the pip in the morning. Maybe, Kathryn knows something?" His voice fades as we saunter back down the corridor, quietly past Saoirse and Aaron's room and then into the solace of our own sanctuary.
"Well," suddenly the bed looks so inviting, even amid its rumpled, disheveled state. "Ahhhgghhhh," The pillow and messily arranged sheets absorb my exhaustion just before another weight depresses the space next to me.
"Well, hello," I smirk, admiring illustriously naked, broad shoulders. They're thinner now that I see them in the light – sharper and more defined as I reach out to place my arm around him.
An exhausted face turns to me, "Hello you." As if controlled by magnets, his eyelids are drooping down towards the purple bruise-like spots that line his under eyes.
"Jean Luc?" My body forms into his as one clothed leg wraps around his bare thigh.
"Mmm?" He's falling asleep, his voice fading into the somnolence.
"Nothing," his fatigue sinks into me, erasing all thoughts, fears, concerns, and questions. My body, I smile into slumber, has its own ideas for the evening. After all, I nestle into the warm body next to me, there's only so much weariness and stress that one constitution can take before exhaustion exerts supreme, executive control.
/
"Shit!" It was like slow motion; I heard the word coming out and I was helpless to stop it. We try not to swear now that we have Saoirse and Aaron; we don't want either of them inadvertently picking up base language. I smile to myself, remembering a young patient of mine back when I was in school. I was a young medical student and it was my first week in clinic. I remember it clearly; a young mother came in with her three year old who needed a booster. He was, as I recall, a very vivacious toddler. All I had needed to administer was a simple hypospray, but I just couldn't get him to sit still. When I finally sat him down, after what seemed like hours of nagging, I remember him pouting and saying, "This sucks!" I couldn't believe it! It seemed to me as though just the simple utterance of such a common phrase almost stole his precious innocence. So, from that moment on, I promised myself that I'd control my tongue around Wesley; I did and thankfully he didn't end up learning any of them until he was old enough to have the sense to use them sparingly and appropriately.
Right now though, in this moment, 'shit' is an appropriate term. I don't know how any of us did it – the babies included, but, we've slept well past the early alarm we set and now Kathryn's coming in less than 15 minutes.
"Jean Luc," I tug at his dormant form. I roll my eyes at just how much tugging and heckling it's going to take to get him to open one eye. "Jean Luc Picard, wake up!"
"Unnggg," is all that's muffled in response against the sheets.
"Jean Luc! We don't have time for this!" I Pull at the blanket he's sprawled over, but he makes no response. So, I do it. I'm not proud of it, but instantaneously a loud smack rings out across the walls of the bedroom.
"Owch!" His whole body jumps. "Beverly!" His hand comes up to soothe his aching buttock.
"Well at least you're up," I grumble. "Kathryn will be here in less than fifteen minutes and we've still got nothing done!"
"If your purpose was to arouse me," He croaks, rolling onto his back and blazoning his morning erection. "You've done a good job."
"Jean Luc," I throw errant bedclothes on top of it as I stifle a tiny grin. "Put that away," I should be frustrated, angry with him for not being focused and for dilly-dallying. But I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't flattered.
"Alright," He grunts. "But what am I supposed to do about this," He points, smiling at me.
"Jean Luc!" I shake my head, this time not trying to contain my amusement. "Think of something," I motion.
"How?" he blunders over the the bureau and pulls a random shirt out. "You're all I think about." He winks back at me as his head reappears through the collar.
I wish I didn't have to, but for the moment I ignore him. Later, I promise. "Later," Jean Luc. I'm curious, "Aren't you at all worried? How can you even think of making love at a time like this?"
"Honestly," he walks over to me, stilling my movements. "At ease, Beverly. You don't have to tidy; Kathryn won't be coming to our bedroom."
I roll my eyes, "I know, but…"
"This situation," he bends down and kisses my forehead. "Will work itself out."
"How can you be so nonchalant, Jean Luc?" I exasperate against him as he collapses me to his chest.
"Because, we're still together. You. Me. Wes. Saoirse. Aaron. For right now, I'm satisfied with that." He motions around us. "Everything else," He sighs. "We can't change it for now. So, just…"
The doorbell rings, cutting his calm demeanour. "Shit! Beverly!" I can't help but laugh at the 180-degree change in his countenance. "The kids aren't even up!"
"What happened to that calm demeanour, Captain Picard?" I sneer playfully as I run down the corridor.
The kids!
"Wesley!" I yell loud enough against his door. "Wake up!" I don't hear any movement.
"Wesley Robert Picard! Wake up this instant!" I yell into his door.
"Ugh, Mom," He groans, practically falling out of the bed. "I'm up! I just heard the door bell!"
I can't seem to make it down the stairs quickly enough. I cringe at the sight of the remaining mess in the living room. "Coming!"
Screw it. It's not our fault the house was ransacked.
"I'm coming," I call again as I open the door. "Kathryn!" I greet, just before… Oh my God…