AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.

Before we get too deep into this one, I want you to know that I'm just having fun with this. I've been asked, elsewhere, for scientific explanations for things, and I'm no scientist. This is science fiction, heavy on the fiction. Not everything here is going to be a 100 percent factual, or scientific, or whatever. Please employ suspension of disbelief. This is for entertainment value only.

Also, I do intend this to be a (somewhat) slow burn, and we're still in the stages of world-building here, but please know that I will get you (and Beverly and Jean-Luc) there…all in good time!

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

111

"Jean-Luc…you have to rotate that panel," Beverly said.

"I beg your pardon," Jean-Luc said, "but this panel is in the correct position to be connected."

"Maybe to another structure," Beverly countered, "but if you want it to connect to what we have in place already, it needs to be rotated."

"I suppose you've put together a great many of these structures in your career?" Jean-Luc said.

He was irritable. They were both tired, thirsty, and hungry. His words pricked at Beverly.

"I may not have put many of them together, Jean-Luc, but I would assume that you haven't either," Beverly said.

"You're hardly following written instructions, since there were none."

"And if there were?" Beverly challenged with a laugh. "Would you have read them? I may not have done this before, but I can tell that the shape of that slot requires you to rotate that panel in order for it to lock into this one…and this panel is getting heavy, Jean-Luc!"

Her tone must have communicated to Jean-Luc that she was feeling just as tired and irritable as he was. He didn't challenge her. Instead, he jumped slightly at her words and then examined the piece to the shelter that he was holding. She could see the moment that he realized she was correct and realized that he was going to have to apologize to her and admit that he'd been wrong.

"Well—it would seem that…you are quite correct," he said. "My apologies. Give me just a moment to rotate this…"

Beverly bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know why his apology amused her. Maybe it was because he went just a touch redder than he already was from exposure and exertion.

"It's OK, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "Let's just get this together so we can rest."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," he said.

They had decided that the most prudent thing they could do was to look for the housing kits and try to put together a shelter before worrying about anything else they had on their list of tasks to accomplish. They had no idea how long it would take, after all, to get the shelter standing. The kits were made to assemble quickly and easily, especially since they were meant for emergency housing, but there were usually more than two people involved when setting up some kind of camp with the portable buildings.

They had been searching their fourth cargo bay—all the while making note of things that they fully intended to return to the ship to get later—before they'd found the housing kits. There had been enough, Beverly joked, to set up a small town. Starfleet believed in making sure they were well stocked for emergencies, whether they were their own or those of people they may encounter, and simple, temporary shelter was considered very important in an emergency. After examining the kits, and thinking about the potential size house they may like, they'd decided to combine two of the kits. They could always expand, of course, if they wanted to do that.

The shelters were rudimentary at best. They would keep out the elements and most intruders. They had nothing in the way of bells and whistles, though.

Still, they would be more comfortable than the cave, and Beverly found that she was growing more and more excited about their little home—though she dared not call it that to Jean-Luc—as they went about building it.

They had debated briefly over where to place the shelter.

Jean-Luc had wanted to place it among the trees in the more wooded area, arguing that the trees would offer some kind of extra protection from elements and possible predators. He had also argued that it would offer them some cover, just in case they found out that there were other inhabitants on this planet. The cover would protect their dwelling from view until they could figure out what they were dealing with when it came to these hypothetical neighbors.

Beverly had wanted to place the little home in the more open area where the soil looked good to her. She had reasoned that having good visibility would mean they could prepare, if they were to come under any sort of attack from these hypothetical neighbors. She had also argued that being in the open would make predators less likely to approach them, since they would want to keep to the more covered areas for protection, and it would keep them safe from damage, such as falling trees, in the event of some kind of natural disaster. After all, they knew very little about their surroundings.

Her real reasons had involved the idea that, if they were to plant or, possibly, consider domesticating any of the wildlife suitable for such a thing, they would do much better in a place with more open and available space. Also, the lush nature of the ground gave her something of a gut feeling that they would find water nearby—and she felt the ground would be easier to manage there for things like exploring the idea of digging a well.

Jean-Luc, luckily, had seen things Beverly's way, without the need for her to come clean about everything she was thinking.

Jean-Luc wasn't ready, yet, to explore the fact that this might be truly long-term, and she wasn't going to push him too hard, too quickly.

"It's a fair little house, isn't it?" Jean-Luc marveled as they neared the end of putting together the basic structure.

"Oh—it's much more than that," Beverly said. "Just wait until it's finished. We still have to put in one of the chimney pieces with the fireplace insert, and we have the solar shower."

Jean-Luc laughed.

"Forgive me if I say that you seem disproportionally pleased by both the idea of an indoor fire, and a rudimentary shower that, thanks to solar power, does little more than redirect the water it draws from a bucket of sorts. It's far less sanitary than a sonic shower, for instance."

"It's also far more practical for our situation. Still, we also found the metal bathing tubs," Beverly said. "If you're opposed to the shower, Jean-Luc, you can bathe in the tub without anyone judging you."

"Right in the middle of the living room," Jean-Luc said. "Because that's the only place, besides the bedroom, that will be large enough to employ the tub. It hardly allows for modesty."

"If it gets any colder," Beverly said, "we'll both be bathing there, and we won't give a damn about modesty."

The words left her mouth, really, before she'd really thought about them. There was a lot about this life that they would simply have to accept. They could do their best to protect things like modesty, but at the end of the day, they were going to have to focus far more on survival.

Still, the thought of openly bathing in front of Jean-Luc made heat rise in her face, and she noticed his expression, too—and a bit of a squirming nature to the way he stood and moved for a moment. She shook it out of her mind as best she could, trying not to attribute more to it than there actually was.

"And—if it's cold—we'll really value the ability to heat the house and cook inside. No matter the weather, we'll have warmth and hot meals…" She half-stammered, trying to turn the focus away from what she'd slipped and said to bring, to both their minds, the image of very public bathing.

"Yes, well—I wasn't being critical," Jean-Luc said. "Teasing, really—if it didn't come across as that."

"It's OK," Beverly said. "I guess—I am excited about these things. I know they're going to make our lives here, however long they might be, more enjoyable."

Jean-Luc laughed quietly.

"I want you to have your shower, Beverly—and every other creature comfort we can find—if it makes your life more enjoyable."

He said the words softly, but sincerely. He said them with a feeling that was palpable. Beverly felt her body respond to his tone as much as to his words. She saw the look on his face, too, when he realized what he'd said and, perhaps, that he'd said it much like she'd made the comment about the shower—without fully considering all the implications.

Beverly smiled softly at Jean-Luc.

"I want you to enjoy your life, too, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "I know this isn't what you had in mind, and it's never been what you wanted, but…I do hope you can enjoy what we have here, at least until we're rescued."

She saw his shoulders roll forward slightly. He relaxed. He smiled.

"I am enjoying this more than I thought I would," he said. "More than I ever expected."

Beverly nodded her understanding.

"Then—maybe that will continue, at least until we're rescued."

"I'm sure it will," he said.

"It's been impossible to get you to take R and R time," Beverly said. "At least, now, you'll have to take some of it."

"Building shelters, hauling supplies, carrying water, chopping wood…"

"There will be times of rest," Beverly said, "once we're more settled."

Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath and let it out in a satisfied sigh.

"I wasn't complaining," he said. "This is, actually, the best I've felt in a while. I'm tired—exhausted—but this exhaustion feels…"

"Earned?" Beverly asked.

He laughed.

"Earned," he agreed.

"How about some earned lunch?" Beverly asked. "I could get something started while you're working on the rest of the additions here?"

"That sounds wonderful," Jean-Luc said. "But—one important question before you go. On which side of the unit do you want your shower installed?"

Beverly smiled at him.

"Over there," she said. "The views are nicer, and one of those panels has a little window."

"I'll be sure to install it correctly," Jean-Luc said, "so you can see the views while you shower."

111

"Well?" Jean-Luc asked when Beverly came into the main room of their little house smelling of soap.

"Worth it," she said, practically breathing out the words.

Jean-Luc couldn't help but laugh.

He felt a rush, too, of something coursing through his veins. It was nice. This was nice. There was a fire in their little fireplace. The rations would soon be ready for their late meal. Their little house was mostly bare, given that they'd dedicated most of their day to building it and hadn't had time to bring hardly anything else from the ship, but they had their pallets and other supplies from the night before.

The house was cozy—cozier than Jean-Luc expected—and he was here, in the quiet of an evening, alone with Beverly. She was clean, her hair still wet from the shower, trailing the scent of soap.

He didn't dare to dwell on it too long, or it might leave him in an uncomfortable position that he would find impossible to camouflage in the pajamas that he'd brought from the ship with a few grabbed belongings—most of their things waiting until they had another day with more available time.

Jean-Luc had teased Beverly about methodically heating water they hauled from the cave's pool and pouring it into the reservoir for the shower, so that she could enjoy it. Jean-Luc's own bath had taken him back to the days when they'd done survival camps and had taken baths out of buckets with rags and a cake of soap. He'd rushed to bathe while Beverly had enjoyed her shower, not even daring to take the time to fill the metal bathing tub—which was quite large and, like Beverly's shower reservoir, would require a bit of effort to prepare. He had wanted to be done before she was—nervous still about how they would handle the possibility of public bathing.

Even looking at Beverly, fully-clothed and entirely disinterested in him—was not something Jean-Luc wanted to do while naked and completely without any hope of covering the reactions that his body tended to have in her presence.

His face burned warm just thinking about it, and he willed himself to think of something else when he felt other parts of his anatomy begin to twitch in response to his thoughts.

"I'm glad your shower was everything you wanted it to be," Jean-Luc said. "I have taken the liberty of selecting a meal for you—I believe I remember you saying it was one of your favorite rations. Although, I have to admit, that seems a questionable statement to make."

"The lesser of evils?" Beverly teased, raising an eyebrow at him. She'd lowered down to sit next to him on the floor. She'd chosen a nightgown and, when she sat, it fell in such a way as to bare her legs up to the knee—and Jean-Luc scolded his inner schoolboy for finding a knee so attractive.

"Well—I am certain that I didn't prepare it as well as you might have," Jean-Luc said. "But…I thought you might want a break from the culinary responsibilities."

"Who's playing fast and loose with language now, Jean-Luc?" She teased. She thanked him for the food, and she ate with a gusto that seemed almost out of place, given the fare available to them. Jean-Luc had to admit, though, that the genuine hunger they'd worked up throughout the day did add a certain seasoning to the food that made it far more pleasurable than was expected. "This is really good," Beverly said, when she'd eaten enough not to seem ravenous.

"I believe that it is mostly your hunger which improves the flavor," Jean-Luc said.

"Take the compliment, Jean-Luc," she said.

He felt his face grow warm from her tone and her expression.

"Thank you," he said. "Both ration packs came with a desirable dessert. I think you'll be pleased."

"Is it that apple cake?" Beverly asked.

"Unfortunately, it is not," Jean-Luc said. "However, one came with a chocolate pudding, and the other with a…I believe it said butterscotch. Ladies' choice, of course."

Beverly looked at him like he'd offered her something great—a dozen roses, a box of fine chocolates, a vacation, perhaps, to some exotic location.

Her expression, alone, made Jean-Luc's pulse kick up to a speed that would be troubling, if he didn't know what had caused it. He would forego dessert for the entirety of his life, if only he could see her make that face at him with any regularity.

"I like the pudding," she said.

"I know you do," he said. "We've…discussed it before. You could have both, if you wanted."

"I won't take your food," Beverly said. He sensed a touch of hesitation, there. He suddenly felt as though he couldn't remember ever wanting anything more than for Beverly to take the pudding—except, perhaps, to be allowed to feed it to her, himself.

Jean-Luc drew in a breath and scolded his own mind for its unrestrained wanderings. He swallowed, thankful that Beverly had no telepathic—or even empathic—abilities.

"I'm quite full," he said. "And—the pudding has always had a tendency to unsettle my stomach. I would hate for it to go to waste, however. It would be…really…something of a favor to me, if you were to eat it."

"You can have the tea from the morning rations tomorrow," Beverly said.

Jean-Luc smiled. The statement, at the moment, and given their current circumstances, was as good as a declaration of love.

"I will look forward to breakfast with you," Jean-Luc said. "First, however…there is pudding to attend to, and the preparations for a night's sleep."

"We should sleep in the bedroom," Beverly said, sounding a touch excited by the prospect. "There's no need to keep watch. We can both sleep tonight."

They had designated the other room—their little housing unit only consisted of two rooms and the small shower space—as the bedroom.

"We'll be farther away from the fire," Jean-Luc said. "It won't be as warm there."

"It'll be warm enough," Beverly said. "At least until the temperature drops. We can always put one of the extra chimney units there."

"But for tonight…" Jean-Luc said.

"I think we can keep from freezing," Beverly said.

Jean-Luc nodded his agreement, pushing out the other thoughts that his mind offered. There was no need in letting it run completely wild, no matter how much it might insist—fueled by the circumstances.

"Here," he said. "Have your pudding. I'll settle the pallets in the other room."