AN: This is the second chapter for the day. If you missed the last chapter, please make sure that you read it before reading this one!
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
111
Beverly felt practically drunk, and she hadn't had a drop to drink.
She was intoxicated by the sweet smell of the vineyard air. The world around her seemed clean, and fresh, and somehow crisper than anything she'd experienced elsewhere.
Of course, she knew that at least some part of her almost giddy intoxication was simply explained—it was love.
She loved the woman that, at the moment, was less than three steps ahead of her. She was ahead only because Beverly had stopped to pick the wildflower—a weed, probably, but the color was pretty—that she carried now in her hand. She meant to tuck it into Laris's hair as soon as she caught up with her.
When Laris noticed that Beverly had slipped from her side, she turned and smiled at her over her shoulder. She stopped walking and turned her whole body toward Beverly. At thirty-two weeks pregnant, with four months to go in her twelve month pregnancy, her belly was growing significantly. Beverly thought it was adorable, and she loved feeling the baby girl—their daughter—moving beneath Laris's skin.
She believed the baby to be healthy. The baby girl was active, which hadn't always been true, and she was growing. Her tricorder scans came back with positive results. Beverly would have liked to do a more comprehensive scan of the baby, but Laris had shied away from that since she'd started moving again, and she recoiled slightly at the suggestion, insisting that it was unnecessary and she didn't care for the idea of any unnecessary practices.
Beverly assumed it must be some kind of Romulan belief, and she didn't push it too much as long as the baby was healthy and her vitals were good.
"What are you doing?" Laris asked.
Beverly held up the flower and, when she reached Laris, she did exactly what she'd hoped to do. She tucked it into Laris's hair.
"A pretty flower for a beautiful woman," Beverly offered.
A slightly green hue spread across Laris's cheeks and the bridge of her nose. It would fade quickly. Still, Beverly loved seeing Laris blush. She loved knowing that, even though they had been quite devoted to each other for two months, and even though they knew each other in pretty much every way imaginable, she could still make Laris blush. She also loved knowing that Laris had recovered so well from her past injuries that her blood volume was back to normal and, as such, she had the ability to blush.
"I should find a flower for you, then," Laris said. "Except—no flower out here would do your beauty any justice." Laris tucked Beverly's hair behind her ear, a mirrored action of Beverly's common practice, where she did the same as an excuse to touch Laris's ears—ears that were quite sensitive to touch. "The sun is in your hair. It looks like fire."
Beverly felt practically fluttery. It didn't take much. It wasn't the words. It was, more than anything, the feeling behind the words. It was the feeling that Beverly had for the woman that was saying them.
"Are you tired yet?" Beverly asked.
"Why would I be tired?" Laris asked.
"We're a long way from the Château," Beverly said, glancing back toward the house. "And we took the long way to get here."
"I thought we were out for fresh air and exercise," Laris said.
"I just don't want you to get too tired," Beverly said. "She is starting to get heavy. I know that…so don't deny it."
Beverly put a hand on each side of Laris's swollen belly. Laris covered each of Beverly's hands with her own.
"She's sleeping," Laris said.
"All the walking has rocked her to sleep," Beverly said.
"All the better to keep me up all night," Laris said with a laugh.
"All the better to keep us both up," Beverly said. "If I'm facing you, she kicks me in the stomach. If I roll over, she kicks me in the back."
"Maybe you should sleep in another bed," Laris said. "Or I should. The Château has plenty to spare."
"Don't you even tease about such a thing," Beverly said.
Laris smirked at her and moved her hand to rest it against Beverly's belly. At nearly sixteen weeks, Beverly's belly was nothing in comparison to Laris's, but it was starting to grow. Beverly could feel butterflies that she knew were proof of the baby moving about, but the kicks weren't strong enough for Laris to feel them.
"And what will we do when she's bigger, and so is my favorite tiny human?" Laris asked. "Tummy to tummy, we'll still be far apart. And if one starts to kick the other, they may be fighting before they even leave their respective wombs."
"We'll work it out," Beverly said. "As a family. We've got time, at any rate."
"It won't be long before your loose, comfortable—retired from Starfleet—clothes won't be able to hide it any longer," Laris said. Beverly frowned at her and Laris caught her face. "You know that I will keep your secrets, Beverly. Our secret. But—have you at least considered that maybe you should tell him? Zhaban was so pleased to think we might finally, actually bring a child into the world…"
"Zhaban was different," Laris said. "I don't even have to know all of it to know that, being married to Zhaban, your whole experience was different."
"I won't argue that," Laris said with a sigh. Beverly's throat ached. She hated when Laris looked upset with her, or even a little disappointed.
"You don't understand," Beverly said. "Jean-Luc doesn't want children. He doesn't even care for children, Laris. He's never wanted them. He won't want this one…and we'll be leaving soon, Laris."
"Right," Laris said, nodding her head—not as though she believed Beverly, but as though she was agreeing with a story she'd heard before. "And, of course, he doesn't need the chance to confirm or dispute his feelings when the child's his own."
"Laris, please…" Beverly said.
"Shhh…" Laris said, reaching out and catching Beverly's face. She kissed her lips. She peppered her face with soft, quick kisses. "There…now…don't be upset. You're probably right. You know him far better than I do. Forget that I said a thing. Come on—walk a bit further with me. And, then, maybe we'll both be tired enough to sleep through all our daughter's nocturnal activities."
Beverly felt the muscles in her shoulders start to relax. She drew in a breath and purposefully let it out. She knew that Laris was right—she ought to tell Jean-Luc—but she felt truly overwhelmed with anxiety when she thought about it. She worried that, somehow, putting it out into the open would put her baby at risk, even though nobody had bothered them here in the time that they'd been hiding out, resting, recovering, and considering their next moves.
More than that, even, she worried about how she would feel if she told Jean-Luc and, just like she feared would be so, he simply didn't want the baby at all. It was easier, really, to imagine it without having to actually face the experience.
She slipped her hand into Laris's, and Laris squeezed her fingers. Beverly squeezed back and kept pace with her as they walked.
111
Beverly eased out of bed as carefully as she could. Laris was sleeping deeply—at least, she was sleeping every bit as deeply as Laris ever slept. Beverly didn't want to wake her. She wanted Laris to rest every chance that she got, especially if it was good sleep.
Beverly grabbed her robe and tiptoed out of the bedroom. She slipped it on and tied it loosely, having already learned how best to wear it so that it hid her growing belly. She padded down the hallway to the full guest bathroom that Jean-Luc used most often, since he'd so generously given up his bedroom for Beverly and Laris when they'd first arrived, and he'd refused to take it back, insisting that they were settled there and it was large enough for them to be more comfortable.
Beverly relieved herself in the guest bathroom, and then she made her way toward the kitchen for breakfast. When she got there, she was surprised to find that Jean-Luc was already waiting on her.
"Sit?" He said, pulling out a seat as soon as he saw her. She accepted the seat offered to her at his breakfast table. The table was already set with plates and a selection of jams and spreads. "Do you still enjoy coffee and croissants?" He asked.
"I'm…avoiding caffeine," Beverly said. She hoped that Jean-Luc wouldn't ask questions, but she was already formulating an explanation, just in case he did. He didn't ask, though. He simply accepted her choices and went directly to the replicator where he requested decaffeinated coffee for the both of them.
"It's probably better for me, too, if I limit my intake a little," he said, sitting down after he brought a selection of croissants for them.
"Thank you," Beverly said. "May I ask, Jean-Luc…what all this is about?"
Jean-Luc helped himself to a croissant, and Beverly followed suit.
"I have always recalled, very fondly, our breakfasts together," Jean-Luc said. "They were some of my happiest times spent with you. The morning is the time of day when so much is decided. To spend it with someone that you care a great deal for…in good conversation and wonderful company…is a blessing that I, sadly, took for granted for far too long. It took losing that to realize how much I truly valued it." He laughed to himself. "That is true, sadly, of so many things…"
"Jean-Luc…" Beverly said.
He held up a hand, gesturing for her to pause. She accepted his request.
"I am asking for the chance to rekindle a friendship, Beverly," Jean-Luc said. "I'm asking nothing more. I'm only asking for the chance to enjoy coffee and croissants with a person that I have held as a very dear friend for a great deal of my life. Would you grant me that?"
Beverly's stomach practically twisted. Her throat and chest ached.
She put on the best smile she could, and she toasted Jean-Luc with the cup of coffee.
"To coffee and croissants with…beloved friends," she said.
He smiled and nodded.
"With…truly…beloved friends." He drank from his coffee cup, put it down, and reached for a PADD that he'd placed on the table beside him. Beverly wondered if he meant to read from it, thus ending their breakfast conversation. Perhaps they truly had nothing to talk about. "Beverly—I would be amiss, if I pretended that I had nothing I wanted to discuss with you."
"Discuss?" Beverly asked.
"With all the building of the Romulan colonies and the negotiations and discussions that are taking place, I've found myself interested in what's unfolding, even though it's really none of my business." He laughed quietly. "I suppose that I always have to have a cause, isn't that what you've said in the past?"
"Jean-Luc…" Beverly started.
"Don't apologize," Jean-Luc said. "You haven't said anything that wasn't accurate. I suppose that I do always have to have something with which to occupy my time and my mental space. Though I am officially retired from Starfleet, I did manage to acquire a number of files from them before I left. In essence, I gathered much of the knowledge that Starfleet had amassed about Romulans and Romulan society. I have been perusing those files as part of my evening study. Sadly, it's really not much, but you know that Romulans are notoriously secretive and reserved."
"So I've heard," Beverly said with a laugh. "Jean-Luc…is there something you want to tell me?"
Jean-Luc frowned at her. Then, he frowned at the PADD in his hands.
"While I was reading," Jean-Luc said, "I came across a few pieces of information that I only read in passing. I'm afraid that I didn't read it in any detail, but I'm willing to share the files with you, in case they may be of some interest. What I did read, however, seemed…relevant to your situation. I thought that, if you weren't already aware…"
"Jean-Luc," Beverly said quickly and sharply. He stopped. "Are you saying these things in an attempt to cause me anxiety, or…?
"Forgive me," Jean-Luc said. "It's only that I know how happy you are, and how much I wish for you to continue to know such happiness. Were you aware that Romulan labor and birth is considered particularly arduous?"
Beverly laughed. She didn't feel the laughter, though. She felt anxious.
"All birth is…challenging," she said, trying not to sound the way that she felt.
"I'm sure you're correct," Jean-Luc said. "It's only that the statistics that I saw, at a glance, suggested that the mortality rate of new mothers and babies was…well…quite high, in my opinion. Of course, I'm no physician. So, perhaps, the numbers weren't really all that surprising."
Beverly's mouth felt like it had gone dry. She thought of wetting it with the coffee, but she couldn't imagine trying to swallow it.
"High?" She asked.
Jean-Luc handed her the PADD.
"Some of the files I read suggested a seventy percent or higher chance of mortality. You'll better understand all of it," he said. "I simply thought that…since I know that you and Laris have talked about leaving…it might be better if you were to consider staying at least until the baby is born. Here, I thought you might be better able to prepare. You might be better able to handle any emergency that might arise. I wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, my house continues to remain open to you, Beverly, for however long you may need or want to stay—all of you."
Beverly smiled at him as best she could. She thanked him for the PADD and for his offer. She made her thanks as sincere as possible, because they were sincere.
"Well—I'm sorry," Jean-Luc said. "It would seem that I've put a damper on your appetite for breakfast."
"No…thank you, really, Jean-Luc," Beverly said.
"I only want the best for you, Beverly. And for Laris…and your little Romulan to come. Truly. I didn't want you to feel that you had to leave, if staying was in the best interest of you all. That's all."
Beverly smiled at him.
"Perhaps—we can try breakfast again tomorrow, Jean-Luc?"
"I'll be sure to bring a more pleasant topic of conversation," Jean-Luc assured her.
"If you don't mind…I think I'd like the chance to read through a few of these before Laris wakes," Beverly said.
"Go right ahead," Jean-Luc said. "I had planned to finish a few things in the library…if you need me…"
"Thank you," Beverly said again.
When Jean-Luc left her, she opened the file on the PADD, directly to the place that Jean-Luc had marked for her. As she read, she realized that he was probably right. They would need to stay.
That meant that Beverly's secret couldn't be kept a secret much longer. She decided, as she read, that she would tell Jean-Luc about the baby she carried, as soon as she felt the time was right, and she would simply hope for the best—according to what she read, after all, hope may be all she had for a great many aspects of her life.