AN: Here's another piece to this one!

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

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Jean-Luc leaned tentatively toward Beverly. He leaned in for the kiss that he hoped she was offering. She leaned up, but finally fell back slightly, laughing.

"You come to me, Jean-Luc," she said.

Jean-Luc quickly realized the position they were in, and he realized that it wasn't fair to ask her to perform the kind of abdominal exercise that would be necessary for her to close the gap between them. Also, with all question removed as to her expectations about the kiss, Jean-Luc felt energized and invigorated. He rearranged them, moving around her and over her so that he could kiss her.

The first kiss was hungry. Jean-Luc had been dreaming of it and, finally feeling the absolute freedom to have it and enjoy it, he didn't hold himself back. Beverly didn't seem interested in playing coy or restricting the kiss, either, and she met him with as much as enthusiasm as he felt.

When the kiss broke, Jean-Luc took a moment to study her face. He had her explicit permission to touch her. He had her assurance that she enjoyed his touch. He stroked her cheek, and she closed her eyes to the affection, a soft smile played on her lips. Jean-Luc kissed her cheek. He kissed the corner of her mouth. When he brought their lips back together a second time, the kiss was soft and long.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly said, softly, when the kiss broke. He hummed at her. "Wesley could come home any minute. I don't think he wants to see…this."

Jean-Luc smiled at her. He freed himself from the tangle of their limbs and stood up.

"Would you like me to leave or…would you like to go somewhere where we can be more comfortable?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Let's go to my room," Beverly said.

As she started to get up, Jean-Luc decided to try to be the kind of gentleman that he at least imagined himself to be when he thought about the possibility of ever having such an opportunity presented to him. Jean-Luc moved to slide his arms under Beverly, before she could get up, and he lifted her. The sudden removal of the comforting support of the sofa under her, perhaps, surprised Beverly and she barked with a sound that was a cross between a scream of surprise and one of laughter.

Jean-Luc couldn't help it. He laughed in response and hugged her tighter to his body, determined not to let her flailing cause either of them to topple forward.

"I assure you, Beverly, that this will go much more smoothly if you work with me and not against me," Jean-Luc said, managing to get the words out around his amusement. She did wrap her arms around him, and lean her body into him to make it easier on him, but he could feel her tension, and it made it difficult to keep a solid hold on her elongated body.

"Jean-Luc, you don't have to do this," Beverly said.

"I believe some law of romance dictates that I carry you to the bed," he responded, taking the first tentative steps in that direction.

"I'm too heavy," Beverly assured him as he navigated his way around the room, careful not to trip over the boots that he'd rather recklessly tossed on the floor. He paused a moment to kick them to the side. Wesley might see them, but perhaps the image of discarded boots wouldn't be one that the boy couldn't overcome.

"I assure you that your weight is not a problem," Jean-Luc offered. "You are as light as a feather. If you would relax, Beverly, and trust me, then I doubt that even your height would be a challenge."

Jean-Luc didn't point out that his amusement—mostly at her amusement—was the greatest challenge that both of them faced at the moment. She was laughing, and when she wasn't laughing, she was barely holding it back. Honestly, the warmth it brought him to see her so genuinely happy—if even for a brief second—made it impossible for him not to respond.

"You're going to drop me," Beverly offered, when Jean-Luc had to heave her up slightly to get a better hold on her, so that he could maneuver both of them through the slightly small doorway, after he'd leaned to push the button that would open the door that would close behind them as soon as they'd passed through it.

"I assure you that I'm not going to drop you," he said. He winced when he misread his clearance at the doorframe and heard the thud of impact. Luckily, if he hurt her, it wasn't bad enough for her to be genuinely upset about it.

"Jean-Luc!" She barked, still laughing, her hand going to her head. She curled in on him, perhaps intending to protect her head from the door frame, again, and he turned her quickly to try to keep from losing his grip on her as she moved. Clearing the doorframe, he accidentally bumped her legs against the other side, and when she reacted the worst possible thing that he could ever imagine happened—and it happened almost as though it were in slow motion.

As soon as she hit the floor, laughing far too hard for someone who had just been dropped, Jean-Luc took a knee beside her.

"Beverly—are you OK?" Jean-Luc asked. "I'm so sorry…"

Beverly came to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her in a kiss. Her breathing was slightly ragged, as was his own, and they both had to break the kiss several times to draw in air. It didn't matter, though. For a moment, nothing really seemed to matter, and Jean-Luc relished the few precious seconds of feeling practically removed from reality entirely.

"Thank you," Beverly said, a hint of laughter still catching in her throat as she pulled out of the kiss. "Thank you. I haven't laughed like that…"

"Are you hurt?" Jean-Luc asked. He got to his feet and he helped her. She didn't move any more stiffly than she had from the fact that her feet were hurting earlier. Jean-Luc ran his hands down her in the instinctive search for evidence of an injury. "The baby…"

"I'm fine, Jean-Luc," Beverly assured him, beginning to remove her uniform. "We're both fine."

"I shouldn't have let you fall," Jean-Luc said.

"It was an accident, and I'm as much to blame as you are," Beverly said. Jean-Luc followed suit and started removing his own uniform. Beverly stole a quick kiss, and he followed her for more. She smiled at him and denied him—more for teasing, he felt, than any real desire to refuse him the right to kiss her.

"Tell me what you would tell your patient, Doctor," Jean-Luc said, draping his uniform pieces across the chair in her room so that they mingled with hers. "Expectant mother—approximately fourteen weeks of gestation—takes an unexpected fall."

"I would ask how hard the fall was," Beverly said. "Not very hard. I would ask—where and how she landed. On the floor, on her right hip and side, more than anything. I would ask her for a report on her level of discomfort. Minimal, at worst. I would tell her to let me know if there was anything such as cramping or bleeding in the hours and days to come."

They had both casually made it down to underwear, and Jean-Luc couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in Beverly's body before she pressed it against him and pulled his face toward her for a sincere kiss that sent a shiver up his spine. She smiled knowingly at him, as though she'd felt the shiver and knew the effect that she had on him.

"I'll be sure to tell my doctor if there are any concerning complications, Jean-Luc. Our baby can withstand a little…play…between its parents."

Jean-Luc felt his face grow warm, and the smile that came to him wouldn't be held back. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warm skin against his. Thoughts came to his mind—words he wouldn't dare say for the fact that they might be too big and too heavy for the moment. A few more kisses of varying degrees of playfulness and seriousness passed between them. Then, Beverly held his eyes and smiled at him, her face just far enough away from him that he could focus on her without going cross-eyed.

"My birth control is at maximum efficiency," she teased.

"Is it?" Jean-Luc asked.

Beverly bit her lip and nodded her head.

"Oh—yeah. I am every bit as pregnant as I'm ever going to be, so we don't need to worry about anything. I'm as up-to-date as possible, now."

Jean-Luc laughed quietly.

"Maybe we should have discussed that before," he said.

"Maybe you should come by the office tomorrow, during my shift," Beverly said. "Your contraception injection has clearly expired, Jean-Luc."

Jean-Luc swallowed. He studied her eyes. He studied each angle of her face. He relished the warmth of her body and the feeling of her arms draped lazily around his neck. He wanted to take her to bed. He wanted to feel her wrapped around him in every possible way. But, for a moment, he was content to simply enjoy her as she was now, and she clearly felt no rush for what would clearly not be denied to either of them.

"I have seldom found myself with any need for contraception," Jean-Luc said. "And, if what you say is true, and you cannot possibly be any more pregnant than you currently are, then I don't see any need for further contraception on my part."

Beverly hummed at him.

"Unless some other opportunity should arise for you," Beverly said.

Jean-Luc felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward, but he swallowed back the smile. Her look was so intent that he didn't dare to break the connection between them. He felt what she was asking more than he heard it. He meant his answer more than he could truly express.

"I am looking for no other opportunity, Beverly," he said. "And should one arise organically, I would have to say that—not only am I not up-to-date on my contraception injections, but I am also not at all interested in any offered opportunity."

Beverly kissed him. Their breathing had calmed, and she was able to draw the kiss out as long as she desired. Jean-Luc savored the taste of her kiss and the feeling behind it. He knew that she must be aware, pressed against him as she was, of his interest. That didn't make her shy away at all. When she broke the kiss, she touched his face and held it so that he couldn't move his gaze away from her—not that he had any desire to do so.

"I am absolutely sober, Jean-Luc," Beverly offered.

He felt laughter bubbling naturally in his throat.

"I am most certainly not," he said, shaking his head. Beverly furrowed her brow at him and looked almost struck.

"I only saw you drink one glass of champagne," she said.

Jean-Luc caught her hand and pulled it around from the side of his face so that he could kiss her palm. She curled her fingers over his, and he kissed her fingers, anticipating what was coming.

"I only had one glass of champagne to toast our little one," Jean-Luc said. "But I'm entirely intoxicated by you, Beverly."

She smiled at him. She pulled away from him, and he followed her out of instinct. He followed her out of the feeling that he couldn't lose her—even if it was only to a few feet of distance. She pulled the blankets back on her bed and invited him to her with a wave of her hand. He followed her into her bed and immediately found his comfort in her arms.

As Jean-Luc helped Beverly off with what remained of her clothing, he indulged himself in touching and tasting her, this time experiencing everything he'd tried to commit to memory, before, through the senses of a sober man. Her sweet sighs, moans, and even whimpers of approval spurred him on, and he gave her all the attention that he could—all that his body would allow—before he finally moved to bring them together, hesitating only a moment to offer her one final opportunity to tell him what she may or may not want.

"Jean-Luc, please…" Beverly breathed out to him when he hesitated. It had taken nothing more than that for him to sink into her and to give himself over to the pleasure that he wanted—that they both wanted.

All too soon, it seemed, it was over. After the shaking after-shocks of pleasure, Jean-Luc held Beverly until nature separated their bodies. They shared breathless kisses until their breathing returned to normal. Their skin stuck together with the sweaty evidence of what had happened between them, and Beverly curled into Jean-Luc with heavy eyelids. As he pressed a few final soft kisses to her lips, he noticed that she'd stopped responding. Her breathing had evened out. Curled against him, she'd let down every last guard she had.

Before he left, Jean-Luc would borrow a dermal regenerator to heal the blisters on her feet from the offending boots and too many hours spent wearing one pair and then another. He would bring a cloth to wash the evidence of their coupling from her body. He would straighten her room and gather up the articles of clothing that hadn't made it to the chair for recycling. He would kiss her goodnight, and goodbye, and he would hope that there were more kisses to come.

For now, however, he simply closed his eyes and enjoyed what it was to hold her, just as she was, with every last one of her defenses down.