AN: Sorry this one took a while! I thank you all for your kind words! I admit that what I read must have bothered me more than I realized. I had to take a little break. It turned into something of a self-fulfilling prophecy, and I felt that I couldn't get the characters right for this. Still, I finally decided to go with the best I could do. I do thank you for your kind words. They mean more than you know!

I do hope you enjoy the chapter! If you do, please let me know.

111

"Now, then…would you prefer that I heal things first, or help you to shower first?" Jean-Luc asked. "Tell me, Beverly, what you feel most up for, and I shall work around your needs and abilities."

"I'm fine," Beverly said, holding to the bathroom counter. "If you don't mind…I'd like you to erase as much of…that place…as possible."

Jean-Luc nodded his understanding and started to work with the dermal regenerator to erase everything he could see, and everything that he knew the little tool would be able to handle. It wasn't a medical grade dermal regenerator. It was the standard sort that every household had. They had several, since workers in the vineyard were given to injuries and Laris, herself, was a touch accident prone when she got too busy doing things and got distracted.

"You don't have to talk about that place, Beverly, if you don't want to," Jean-Luc offered.

"Good," Beverly said quickly. "Because I don't want to. Not now. Now—all I want to talk about, Jean-Luc, is what we'll name our son."

Jean-Luc felt a rush of feelings surge through him. The reality, it seemed, was still just out of reach for him. It hadn't settled in yet. In the other room, Laris would be refreshing the bed from the birth. She would be cleaning up their son and, likely, tending to him until Jean-Luc was done tending to his mother.

Jean-Luc and Beverly had a son together—what appeared to be a very healthy baby boy—and though there were so many things to discuss, mostly things from their past, none of it really seemed important for the time being.

Beverly was right. The only thing that seemed important, at the moment, beyond making sure that she was cared for, comfortable, and well on her way to healing, was their son.

"I'm sure any name you choose…" Jean-Luc said, but he stopped before he finished, losing himself in the act of healing Beverly's injuries.

He hadn't touched her body like this since just before that trip to Meridia where, apparently, Beverly intended to tell him about the child she carried. Now, he ran his hand over familiar peaks and valleys. He felt the dramatic jutting out of bones that was proof, he imagined, of the fact that her captors had not fed her well. Her body, Jean-Luc already knew, was hard-wired to sacrifice for their son. That's what it had done.

He paused, his hand over her ribcage where bones jutted out, almost seeming sharp to the touch. She covered his hand with her own.

"It's a bit ghoulish," she said, laughing quietly in a way that was meant for his comfort, more than anything.

"You will eat here," he said. "As much as you want. Whatever you want. Laris is an exceptional cook, and she won't mind making you anything you want..."

"She won't, will she?" Beverly mused.

Jean-Luc felt his face grow warm. Beverly smiled at him, but offered no explanation behind her smile.

"You kept him safe," Jean-Luc said. "You gave him everything he needed, even at your own expense. Beverly—you…"

"Shhh," she hushed him.

"You did everything right," Jean-Luc said, refusing to be hushed. He'd been silenced, before, for too many reasons. "You did. And anything else…anything else there might be that…that we might discuss…I need you to know, first and foremost, that you did everything right."

Beverly's smile was tired. He could see exhaustion in her eyes. He could see it in practically every single facet of her. He would feel better when he could watch her rest, sincerely, knowing that she was getting everything she needed. Her smile was tired, yes, but it was sincere.

"I needed to hear that, Jean-Luc, more than you know," she said. "I am sorry, though, that you had to learn about him this way…"

"There is no more need for apology," Jean-Luc said, returning to his healing of the superficial injuries that were visible. "There—I think that's everything on the surface."

"The rest will heal with time," Beverly said.

"Let me help you into the shower," Jean-Luc said. "Unless, of course, you would rather do it on your own."

"I would like the help," she assured him.

Jean-Luc's pulse kicked up as he straightened himself up. Beverly had already shed her clothing, but it was his turn, now. They had seen each other naked plenty of times before, yet this somehow felt like a first time. As he started to undress, he noticed that Beverly didn't look away. In fact, she watched him so intently that he nearly felt unnerved.

He had touched every part of her body, searching for injuries. The least he could do was allow her to re-familiarize herself with his body.

When he was undressed, he offered to support her, much as he had moving from the bed. She allowed him, and he held her close to him as he led her into the shower. Her steps were confident, and though she leaned on him, it wasn't with the weight of someone incapable of supporting herself.

Jean-Luc had the feeling that Beverly didn't truly need his help and support, but she appreciated it, just the same.

He had had that feeling many times before when it came to Beverly Crusher.

"Now, then," Jean-Luc said, when they were in the shower and he'd moved her so that her body was under the spray of warm water—an option that Beverly always seemed to prefer over a sonic shower—you tell me how much help you want. I don't wish to overstep my boundaries."

There was that laugh again, but this time it sounded a bit more sincere. It was followed with a groan that might have been from the pleasure of the hot water, from the soreness of her body, or from the very probable combination of the two.

"I just delivered your son, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "I don't think there are any boundaries."

Jean-Luc didn't fully agree, but he also understood her sentiment. He wasn't going to belabor the point. Instead, he set about washing her carefully and thoroughly, surprised at the fact that, though this was a quite intimate practice, as had been healing her injuries, he felt no actual arousal, like he might have expected from such proximity with Beverly's naked body. This was true, even with the sounds of appreciation she used to reward him for making her feel good—something she had likely not felt in a while. Those sounds were very much like sounds he'd elicited from her in other ways, but his body didn't react to them as it had before. He was still profoundly attracted to her—that much hadn't changed at all—but, at the moment, his brain was fully focused on her care, only, and it seemed to communicate that surprisingly well to some of the more stubborn and spontaneous parts of his anatomy.

"What about…Jean-Luc?" Beverly said.

"I'm sorry?" Jean-Luc said, being dragged out of his thoughts.

"For our son," Beverly said. "What about Jean-Luc? We'll name him after his father. Jean-Luc Picard is a strong name. A good name. What do you think?"

Jean-Luc considered it for a moment.

"I think that—I hardly see myself as the kind of father who wishes for his son to carry his name," Jean-Luc said. "I never thought of myself as the father to a junior."

"From what you've told me before, Jean-Luc, you never thought of yourself as a father."

Jean-Luc laughed quietly.

"You are not wrong, Beverly. Still, I was clearly wrong, and I'm very happy with my son—please, make no mistake about that. Just the same, I don't think that I want him simply given my name. Don't misunderstand—it merely feels as though I am somehow deciding who he should be, and I feel that he should be given the freedom to do that for himself."

"What about John?" Beverly asked. "Then, he'll carry something of you, but he doesn't just have your name. He can make it something that's entirely his own."

Jean-Luc smiled at her.

"I like that," he said.

"And to follow John?" Beverly asked.

"William," Jean-Luc suggested. "Unless, of course…you prefer something different? Paul for your father, perhaps?"

"I like William," Beverly said. "And—I love that you chose it for him. Would you mind, Jean-Luc, if we called him that?"

"John William Picard," Jean-Luc mused. "And we shall call him William. I like that."

Beverly smiled, and that was enough to tell him that she liked it, too.

"Jean-Luc…would it be too much to ask if you might shampoo my hair?" Beverly asked. "I think William is in good hands, for now…don't you?"

"I assure that, short of your own, he is in some of the best hands he can possibly be in," Jean-Luc said. "I will be happy to shampoo your hair and do anything else you might like. Then, we'll get you something nice to eat, and you can relax."

"I'm already relaxing," Beverly assured him, leaning on him. "Thank you, Jean-Luc."

"It is my pleasure…it always will be, if you should see fit to allow it," Jean-Luc said.

111

"I hope you don't mind…" Laris said.

She was referencing the contraption in which she had the baby boy bound to her body. In the time that it had taken Jean-Luc to help Beverly get all her superficial wounds healed, get thoroughly showered and dried off, and get dressed in freshly replicated pajamas—which Laris must have leaned into the bathroom to place on the counter for them—Laris had stripped and remade the bed, cleaned up all evidence of the birth, cleaned Jack, and dressed him.

If Beverly minded her choice of contraption, Jack certainly didn't seem to do so. He seemed snug and comfortable against her, no doubt listening to the very rapid drumming of a Romulan heartbeat.

Jean-Luc helped Beverly into bed and she sank into the pillows and clean sheets with a loud groan. Jean-Luc was sure it was a mixture of satisfaction and discomfort. He pulled the blanket over Beverly's legs and somewhat tucked her in.

"I don't mind a thing. He seems very content."

"Well, now—he did fuss just a little, but we soon got him calm enough. He'll be ready for something to eat, I'm sure…and so will you. Will you tell me what you'd like for dinner?"

She was carefully removing the baby from the contraption. He started to whine and she shushed him gently.

"Now, then…little one…there'll be none of that. Here's your mama."

"His name is William," Beverly said. "John William, but…we'll call him William."

Laris settled the baby into Beverly's arms.

"That's a fine name," she said. "He'll wear it well. Right—see how much nicer he looks all cleaned up and ready for a bit of resting with his parents?"

Laris beamed at the baby almost as much as Beverly did. The baby, for his part, began to squirm. Without hesitation, Beverly unbuttoned the pajama top she was wearing—and Jean-Luc immediately understood why Laris had chosen the fashion she did for Beverly—and offered him a breast. For a moment, mother and son negotiated how he would feed, until Beverly was satisfied, and then William began nursing as though he was an old hat at such things.

"Jean-Luc…" Beverly said.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"That dermal regenerator," she said.

Jean-Luc didn't ask any questions until he returned with it. He handed it to her.

"Did I miss something?" He asked, after she thanked him. She smiled at him reassuringly.

"Come here," she said, holding William against her body with one arm and patting the bed with the hand holding the dermal regenerator. Without a doubt, she was talking to Laris.

Laris opened her mouth like she might protest.

"Here," Beverly said again, patting the bed. She put a bit more force behind her words. Jean-Luc had heard that tone from her before. Few people really dared to refuse it. "Come here. Sit."

Laris looked at Jean-Luc. She raised her eyebrows at him in question. He raised his back at her in response.

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I should be preparing something for dinner," Laris said.

"Closer," Beverly said. Laris sighed again, but moved a bit closer.

Beverly smiled, and Jean-Luc stifled his own smile at how triumphant she looked.

"There, now…this won't hurt a bit," Beverly offered, using the dermal regenerator to make the repairs to Laris's face that Laris hadn't gotten around to making. "I don't like this cut near your eye. It looks like—if you hadn't turned your face fast enough—you might have lost that eye."

"Fast enough is fast enough," Laris said with a laugh. "There's no need wasting time thinking about what might have happened."

"Just the same—at least, now, I don't have to watch it get infected. I assume there are other injuries you're hiding under all those layers. Can you be trusted to take care of them yourself?"

Laris smiled, probably in spite of herself, at Beverly.

"I'll shower as soon as dinner is through and cleaned up," Laris said. "There's nothing that won't hold until then."

"Fine," Beverly said. "When you do, Jean-Luc will help you be sure that you haven't missed anything."

Jean-Luc felt like his stomach dropped to his feet. He looked at Laris. She'd gone a touch green around the newly-healed gills, so to speak.

"Did you honestly think I didn't know?" Beverly asked. "I have known Jean-Luc for most of my life."

"I can explain…" Jean-Luc started.

"I don't think that this merits an explanation," Beverly said. "A…story, perhaps. A discussion, I'm sure. But—that will wait until we're eating dinner, won't it? All of us…"

"What…what would you like?" Laris asked, the green hue not yet faded from her cheeks.

Beverly smiled at her again. She held Laris's eyes. Even if Laris felt the desire to look away, she didn't.

"Honesty," Beverly said. She sighed and switched William to the other breast while she talked. "I wasn't sure, but now I am. Your blood is green. Copper-based. You appear mostly human, but there is something decidedly not human about you, besides your blood. If I were to remove that…head scarf that you're wearing, I would venture to guess that I would find pointed ears. Your forehead is smooth. That means you're either a Vulcan, or a Southern Romulan. You're expressive…dynamic…and you clearly have feelings that you're not working hard to suppress. So—that means that my only question is, why are you hiding it from me that you're a Romulan?"

Laris looked at Jean-Luc again, like he might supply her with an answer. He simply looked back at her, and let her find her own words.

"I knew it might be difficult to…to trust a Romulan," Laris said. "I knew you would need the help, but it could be difficult to trust a Romulan to care for your son."

"Why?" Beverly asked softly. "You already saved his life. So—why couldn't I trust you to hold him for me?"

Laris didn't answer. She stood and crossed the room quickly. She stopped by the door.

"I'll make something filling," she said. "With red meat. Something to help with the blood that you've lost and build up your strength."

"I'll look forward to sharing it with you," Beverly responded, just as Laris slipped out the door and closed it behind her, leaving Jean-Luc alone with Beverly and their son.