AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.
I hope that you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
Beverly woke with a number of unfamiliar sensations registering in her mind, still moving slowly and heavily with the fog of sleep.
It was dark in her room, and she recognized her room instinctively.
She also recognized that she wasn't alone. She recognized movement around her. She recognized delicate touch, like fingers dancing over her skin with the desire to feel her, but not to wake her. Gently, she finished surfacing into wakefulness and remembered.
Beverly smiled to herself and closed her eyes, her desire to sleep trying to pull her back down into the warmth of fading dreams.
A new warmth shocked her slightly. The warmth was wet and left a trail of cold between her legs.
"Shhh…" she heard the quiet soothing when she jumped and gasped in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. It wasn't my intention at all."
Beverly rolled onto her back. With her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and with the slight change of position, she could see Jean-Luc, thanks to a small show of light flooding in through the crack of the bathroom door.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
With her awake, Jean-Luc had decided to simply finish his work.
"I was—cleaning up some of the mess that it seems I left you with," Jean-Luc said. Beverly thought she could hear the embarrassment in his voice. She imagined that, if she could see his face well enough, he would likely be blushing. She closed her eyes for a second and let him finish cleaning her—an act that, to her, felt almost as intimate as the one that had put that so-called "mess" there that needed to be cleaned.
When Jean-Luc returned from the bathroom, Beverly spoke to him, keeping her eyes closed and her voice low. She wasn't ready, just yet, to let go of the night.
"What time is it, Jean-Luc?"
"0200 hours," Jean-Luc responded, his own voice barely just above a whisper. Beverly felt the bed move. She normally slept close to the edge of the bed where Jean-Luc was now sitting, but she'd moved over during the night to give him room to sleep with her. Now, she was in the middle of the bed—practically on the other side. Jean-Luc, clearly sitting for the moment, rested his hand on her shoulder. The weight of it felt comfortable and comforting. Beverly felt the familiar ache of wanting him near her.
"Why are you awake?" She asked.
"I have slept very little," he admitted.
"What have you been doing?"
Jean-Luc hummed in thought. Beverly kept her eyes closed. She smiled to herself, unsure if he could see it. They had had many conversations, of all sorts, through the many years that they'd known each other. Still, this one felt different. It felt wonderful, really.
"I spent a great deal of the time in thought," Jean-Luc said. "Call it meditation, even."
"Solving some problem?" Beverly asked. He hummed softly. He moved further onto the bed, shifting the mattress. He moved closer to her. She could sense more of his warmth than just that of his hand pressing on her shoulder. She wished he would hold her, but she felt like she couldn't make the demand. She shivered, a psychosomatic reaction, at the thought of the warmth of his body against hers and the proverbial cold that she felt without it.
"Are you cold, Beverly?" Jean-Luc asked, suddenly arranging blankets over her. She laughed quietly to herself.
"It was just a shiver," she said. "Is something worrying you, Jean-Luc?"
"A great many things are on my mind," Jean-Luc said. "But—I'm not sure that I would call any of them worry for the moment."
"So—you've just been thinking all night?" Beverly asked, laughing quietly.
"Thinking," Jean-Luc ticked off, "dreaming, perhaps…I heard Wesley come in. He's gone to bed. I recycled your uniform."
"Not the boots…" Beverly said. Recycling uniforms was customary, of course. Boots needed to be broken in, though, and everyone held onto them as long as they could. When the shine kits no longer took care of the age that showed on a boot, that was the only time it felt admissible to recycle them. Jean-Luc laughed quietly and patted Beverly's shoulder.
"Not the boots," he said. "Neither pair that is currently in your possession. I did retrieve the offending boots from the living area. I used your dermal regenerator to heal the blisters they left behind on your feet."
Beverly hummed and moved her body, rooting a little deeper into her mattress and the pile of blankets that Jean-Luc had pulled free from the bed and heaped on her when he thought she'd caught a chill. She reminded herself that she was still sleepy, that the sleep she'd gotten had been nothing short of wonderful, and that she hoped to return to that sleep, if she could somehow manage to do so.
"All while I was sleeping?" Beverly mused.
Jean-Luc found her hand. He pulled it from under the cover. He lifted it and worked it in his, massaging it. Beverly found the touch relaxing, and she thought that it wouldn't take her long to sleep again with Jean-Luc doing nothing more than touching her hand as he was. He kissed her hand and she shivered, involuntarily, again.
"I'm not cold," she offered, before he could ask or attempt to bundle her more.
"You were sleeping very deeply," Jean-Luc said, his voice lower and deeper than before, almost as though he'd retreated into his thoughts for a moment. "Peacefully. Am I allowed to admit that I watched you for a while?" He hummed and leaned down, his warmth touching Beverly a bit more. His lips found the side of her face in the semi-darkness. She hummed her approval and turned her face, searching for a bit more to the kiss. Their lips brushed each other a few times. "You were sleeping so well that—I admit to checking your pulse and, then, not entirely sure that I trusted my abilities, I scanned you with a tricorder."
Beverly laughed.
"And what did you discover, Jean-Luc?" She asked.
"Much of what I expected," Jean-Luc said. "Your vitals were normal; you'll be happy to know. You are dehydrated, though, so I put a glass of water by the bed in case you woke thirsty." He continued to work her hand in his, and Beverly made no effort to stop him. "Scanning you registers two life signs and, after seeing that, I sat for a while in contemplation."
"You knew that," Beverly said.
"And yet, I am still in awe each time I'm reminded," Jean-Luc said.
"You need to sleep, Captain," Beverly teased. "It's 0200 hours. I wouldn't mind another hour or two of sleep."
"I was thinking of going," Jean-Luc said. "Leaving you in peace."
Beverly's stomach ached at the suggestion. She didn't want to admit, not even to herself, that her chest ached, too. She waited a moment, making sure that she felt entirely in control of her voice and her feelings. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, somewhat reluctantly relinquishing the last hold she had on sleep. Jean-Luc straightened up, too, from the leaning position that he'd taken to kiss her.
"Are you leaving for you, Jean-Luc? Because—I don't need you to leave me for peace."
Even in the semi-darkness of the room, she could see him chewing on something. Perhaps he was struggling with a great deal of things. Beverly sat facing him in the bed, while he sat somewhat poised on the edge—half-ready to leave, it seemed.
"What will everyone think, Beverly, when they see me leaving your quarters in the morning? The Enterprise is a large ship, but she is not so large as we think."
Beverly smiled to herself and nodded. Only afterwards did she think about the fact that Jean-Luc probably couldn't see the gesture.
"If anyone sees you leave my quarters, Jean-Luc, then they'll likely think the truth. They'll believe that you spent the night here. With me."
"And what of your reputation?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly laughed quietly.
"Is it my reputation that worries you, Jean-Luc?" She asked. "If you've forgotten, Starfleet knows about our—previous indiscretion. They know how this pregnancy came about. I have already received my slap on the wrist. I've listened as I was scolded for…for fraternization with a superior officer. I heard all the reasons that my actions were inappropriate, and I acknowledge that I understood that what we did was frowned upon. Starfleet knows, Jean-Luc. And, yesterday—hours ago—we made the announcement that I am, in fact, carrying your child. The ship knows, Jean-Luc, and everyone over a certain age is sure to know how that came about that your child is growing inside of me. So—my reputation as the Chief Medical Officer who…who handed herself over to her captain to be impregnated? That's pretty much cemented, Jean-Luc. And if people see you leaving my quarters, in the morning, they'll think that what happened was exactly what did happen. Please don't use my reputation as the reason that you're leaving. It can't be further damaged. Not by you."
"By someone else, then?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly heard the forced hint of laughter in his voice. She heard the nervousness in his tone that he tried to cover. She knew that he didn't mean what he'd said—not really.
She nodded and pushed back the blankets to free her legs. She crawled across Jean-Luc, heading for the edge of the bed, and he caught her arm and tugged it as she found her feet.
"Beverly—where are you going?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly stood in front of him, aware but unashamed of her nakedness. He couldn't likely see her in any great detail, but what did it matter if he could?
"I have to go to the bathroom, Jean-Luc. Our baby is pressing on my bladder. When I come back, you'll tell me if you're staying to sleep a few more hours with me, or if you're going." He started to protest, and she held up her hand to stop him. He stopped speaking and she found his face. She traced her fingers over the skin of his face. She felt the stubbled evidence that he needed to shave, and the proof that hours had passed since he'd prepared himself to appear to the people aboard the ship and announce his role as father of the baby she carried. "I am not angry. You are the captain. And—if you believe that staying here with me puts the ship, or her crew, somehow at risk of…something? If you believe that can be remedied by your leaving? Then—I respect that. And I invite you to leave. But—Jean-Luc? Don't leave me to save me from something. I don't need saving."
Beverly pulled away from him and left him with his thoughts.
She understood. Really, she did. Even if it hurt her, she understood.
For as unaccustomed as she was to spending the night with someone, Jean-Luc was even less accustomed. He was a wonderful captain. He was an amazing man. He was a beautiful soul. In many ways, though, he was simply a man, and he was currently entirely out of his comfort zone.
After relieving herself and washing her hands, Beverly washed her face. She gave Jean-Luc a few moments to be alone with his thoughts, and she listened to hers. She would let him make the decision, and she would honor that decision, no matter how much she might wish for him to make different choices.
When she emerged from the bathroom, the lights were up, though he'd requested they be dim. She requested the bathroom lights to be turned off. Jean-Luc was standing by the bed. Where she hadn't bothered to cover over her nudity at all, he had at least replicated underwear for himself. He'd straightened the blankets and pulled them back to make it inviting for her to crawl back into bed. As she reached him, he caught her hands and leaned, kissing the side of her face before he kissed her lips.
"I never want to hurt you, Beverly," he said.
"And I don't want to hurt you," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc gestured toward the bed. Beverly wasn't sure if he meant to tuck her in, or what exactly his intention was. Beverly was tired, and she wanted what little sleep was owed to her before she had to get up and face the day with far fewer stimulants than were considered safe and acceptable for her non-expectant colleagues. She did get into bed, and she smiled to herself as Jean-Luc followed her. He fitted himself against her back, and she kept quiet about his choices as she moved to give him room. She brushed her foot against his leg.
"Computer—turn off lights," Jean-Luc commanded, bathing them in darkness. He snuggled against her, and Beverly sighed with contentment. "Does that mean that you're happy?" He asked. His lips pressed gently against the back of her neck and then the side of her face. She felt his hand trailing over her body, and it settled in to search for one thing—she instinctively knew what.
"I am happy, Jean-Luc," she said, not wanting to play coy in the least. She moved his hand and rested hers on top. "The baby's just…right about here." He kissed the side of her face again, and rooted against her.
"I'm unfamiliar with this," Jean-Luc said with a laugh. "What do we do now?"
Beverly hummed at him.
"We sleep," she said. "All of us—all three of us, Jean-Luc. We just sleep."
"And in the morning?" He asked.
Beverly smiled. She patted his hand.
"You are a healthy, virile man," she offered. "As a doctor, that tells me certain things are likely to be true. So—in the morning, I'll offer you some suggestions to help with the erection that's likely to be plaguing you."
"Beverly!" He hissed into her ear. The scolding was playful, and she laughed quietly in response.
"And then, you will order breakfast for us—pain au chocolat, for me, I think, and coffee," Beverly said.
"That sounds very specific," Jean-Luc offered.
"Mmm…It feels very specific. I think our baby may be making a few demands," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc hummed at her. Another gentle kiss made her close her eyes. He tightened his hold on her gently, like a quick hug, and his fingertips rubbed lightly over the place she'd helped him find. Beverly's heart beat fast in her chest, but the sensation was pleasant. She felt comfortable, and happy, and abundantly safe in a way that she could hardly remember feeling before.
"If you and the baby want pain au chocolat, then that's what you shall have," Jean-Luc said. "With full-fat yogurt, Beverly, and some fruit. You both need the protein, I think, and well-rounded nutrition."
Beverly swallowed back the sensation to laugh. Jean-Luc needed to care for her. He needed to tell her what she needed—what their baby needed—and he needed to provide that. She was beginning to recognize just how incredibly deep that need to nurture her ran, even though she was almost certain that he may be entirely unaware of what it was. And, though she didn't need him to care for her, she also had no reason to refuse him something that was clearly so necessary to him and, perhaps, comforting to him in its own way.
"You're right, Jean-Luc," she breathed out. "We do need the protein and proper nutrition. Especially for breakfast. Thank you for reminding me. Yogurt sounds nice—perhaps with berries and bananas?"
"We'll have breakfast with Wesley," Jean-Luc said.
"As long as we dress for breakfast," Beverly offered, "I think he'll like that."
Jean-Luc settled against her, and she felt him finally relax. Beverly sighed and relaxed. The weight of his arm across her was welcomed. The warmth of his body was exactly what she'd hoped it would be. The sound of his breathing was soothing. She felt herself slowly drifting toward the sleep she craved.
"Beverly, I don't know how to do this," Jean-Luc admitted quietly and almost mournfully. Beverly patted the hand that rested on her abdomen.
"You're doing wonderfully, Jean-Luc," she assured him. "Now—go to sleep."