He sent her the message before he could talk himself out of it. Her reply arrived in the middle of the night - short, clear and affirming.
They scheduled a time to speak face to face and he put the date in his schedule and resolved to push away distracting thoughts of her. There was a ship to manage and an anomaly to catalogue.
For four days, he tried to push away the thoughts, distract himself with work. On the fifth day, after a mind-numbingly boring shift on the bridge where all he did was sit there and think about Jack, and Beverly, and his role in their lives, he went to the gymnasium. He normally exercised in the holodeck, away from the crew. But today he set out to exhaust himself on the gymnasium track, ignoring the curious looks from the handful of other runners in the gym. Afterwards, sweaty and sore, he went back to his quarters, showered, ate and dropped into bed, almost immediately falling asleep.
He dreamed of her. Vividly. He was next to her, and her mouth was pressed against his neck so he could feel the humid warmth of her breath. He slid his hand over her hair, across her neck and down her shoulder, the upper curve of her breast beginning to fill his palm, and she made an indistinct sound-
He woke up gasping for breath, tense and aroused in the middle of the night. And utterly alone.
His waking moments became filled with her. To the point where he couldn't tell what was an actual memory (like the feel of his palm against her upper back as he guided her out of the transporter room) and what was the ghost of a memory (whenever he stood too close to her in the conference room, in plain sight of the entire senior crew) and what was an imagined occurrence (the feel of her underneath him on the couch).
On the seventh day, he realized that he loved her. He loved her. The realization stopped him in the middle of the corridor. That other Jean-Luc had held the mirror Beverly at arm's length, and they had never even tried, and then it was too late.
He and his Beverly were skittering entirely too close to that fate, had been skirting around that edge for years. He didn't blame her for withdrawing after Kesprytt, because really, when they were on the same ship, and there would be so many prying eyes watching their every move, it would have been complicated. But he had been willing to at least try and her gentle (at least it had been gentle) refusal had made his heart ache.
Now? They were across the quadrant from each other, leading separate lives. And he didn't want to do that anymore.
Did she feel the same way? He didn't know. But the mirror Beverly's words echoed in his head daily. "If I'm back in your universe, don't wait until it's too late. She loves you, I'm guessing."
When she appeared on his viewscreen, his carefully crafted plans for conversation dissolved. She was lovely. Her hair was even longer than he expected, past her shoulders, and her smile was genuine, if a bit guarded.
His breath caught in his throat – so much was at stake - and feeling flustered he began to make small talk with her, sliding into old patterns of conversation. As they exchanged meaningless, superficial stories, he watched her grow increasingly unsettled. At one point, he saw her eyes flick quickly to the bottom of her monitor, as if she was considering ending the conversation.
No. He wasn't about to let her go. It was now or never. "Beverly, this is uncomfortable," he murmured.
At her startled expression, he continued. "We need to spend some time together," he told her, leaning forward, the words spilling out of him. "I, that is...we are better when we are together. Face to face, I mean."
Immediately he realized what he had said, and he watched as she began to laugh, genuine mirth rising into her expression for the first time in their short conversation. And he saw a softness - she hadn't said a word, but he knew - he knew - she was going to come and meet him eventually.
And then they were interrupted by a red alert siren on her ship.
Three months. In three months, they would meet on the quiet little planet, just the two of them.
"Captain?"
She turned her head and refocused on her first officer, sitting across from her in the ready room, looking a touch apprehensive at her inattention.
"My apologies. I asked you here today to let you know that I'll be taking a leave of absence in three months. The ship will be yours."
The Pasteur had been a temporary assignment that extended to one year, then two. But it was time for her to move on. She had finally admitted to herself that while being a captain was wonderful, her heart belonged in research and the practice of medicine. A short message to Medical secured her place back on Earth; they would welcome her whenever she chose to arrive.
Her final three months on the Pasteur went surprisingly quickly, and it felt right. So, with a series of departure gatherings, a handoff to the first officer and a few tears, she took her little shuttle and headed towards the planet to meet Jean-Luc.