AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
While Beverly was sure that Mersuka's enthusiasm, on the one hand, would be contagious and would spread a certain energy among those that she encountered aboard the ship, she was also certain that some of that same enthusiasm might very well be exhausting—especially to herself, since she would be both the main point of Mersuka's interest and her main point of contact while she remained aboard the ship.
Mersuka was young, stunning, inquisitive—and almost completely without an education in human etiquette, at least, since Beverly was equally ignorant of Bendalite etiquette and, therefore, couldn't judge Mersuka's speech and behavior from that perspective.
Thankfully, Deanna took control of the conversation at dinner when there was a bit of a faux-pas, apparently, and Seraki caught her daughter communicating telepathically with Deanna. Seraki scolded her daughter out loud and pointed out to the table that they had long decided that, though they had little contact with outside species, it would be considered rude to communicate telepathically in the presence of non-telepathic beings. Deanna had assured her that there was no harm done during the polite exchange.
"How is it, then, that you are telepathic when your friends are not?" Mersuka asked.
There was nobody at the table, Beverly felt certain, who wouldn't be happy to hand the whole conversation over to Deanna. The hardest part for everyone else, then, was just trying to keep their minds blank. Of course, Beverly could only imagine that Jean-Luc and Will both felt like she did—no matter how hard she tried not to think of things, she still thought of them, and then she caught herself thinking about who had heard her thinking. It was maddening to focus on too much, but their guests never called attention to any of it—unless, of course, something caught Mersuka's attention.
"I am not human," Deanna said. "Or, rather, I am not entirely human. I am half-Betazoid, on my mother's side. My father was human. My mother's species is telepathic. I am only telepathic with other telepaths. I can't read the minds of non-telepathic individuals."
Mersuka looked thrilled by the revelation.
"It is common, then, to take a mate of a different species?" Mersuka asked.
Beverly noticed that Mersuka's parents were either tired of correcting her possibly off-key questions and behavior, or they had simply reverted back to their own cultural practices that she suspected allowed for candor about things that might otherwise be considered delicate topics in some cultures.
"Very common," Jean-Luc offered. "Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations is a Vulcan belief that the Federation has adopted for all their members. We celebrate diversity."
"Yet—you did not take a mate of a different species," Mersuka said. It wasn't clear if it was a question or a statement.
Deanna picked the thread back up again.
"Some people…mate…within their own species," she said. "Others don't. There are no rules, within the Federation, about mating, though there are some species who are incompatible because of biological differences."
"Captain Picard said that there is only one mother in gestation aboard the ship," Mersuka said.
"At the moment," Beverly offered, "that's true—at least to my knowledge."
Mersuka nodded at her and quickly turned her attention back to Deanna.
"Are you going to produce young?" Mersuka asked Deanna.
Beverly bit the inside of her mouth. Suddenly, her seat wasn't the hottest at the table.
"I would like to have children someday," Deanna said.
"You are mated…is it an incompatibility with your species that stops you?" Mersuka asked.
"It is a reluctance on the part of my partner," Deanna offered. "My…mate. We are not married, and I would prefer to be married before we start a family."
"Married?" Mersuka asked.
"Committed?" Deanna asked in response. "Do Bendalites mate for life?"
"Not always," Rashka offered. "For a very long time, the Bendalite population greatly suffered for various reasons. Until then, it was common Bendalite practice to take the same mate for a lifetime, and to mate with them, alone. Following the population crisis, however, it became common, and even praised, for Bendalites to take as many mates as possible, though many still kept their wirshkaru—their…heart-mate—for reasons outside of procreation alone."
"It's common to keep your wirshkaru for life," Seraki said, "if you are fortunate enough to find yours. However, mating and reproduction is a sacred practice in our culture—and is not always between the wirshkaru." She smiled warmly. "You see—it is common to ask about someone's mates in our culture, because anyone who is still able to reproduce is almost always seeking a suitable mate for the growth of our society."
"Many humans and members of other species don't mate for life, either," Will offered. "Or—they take numerous mates throughout their lives, even for reasons outside of procreation."
"I guess you could say that, when humans, and many other species, too, find their equivalent of a wirshkaru, they marry," Deanna offered. "The usually wear rings or other trinkets to mark their commitment. And some, once they're married, don't take any other mates. The practices are all very personal and, sometimes, complex. Personally, I prefer to wait until marriage to…bear young."
"When will you…marry?" Mersuka asked. Deanna nodded to indicate that she'd remembered the correct word. Then, Deanna smirked at Will, whose cheeks had grown quite red. Beverly watched him, too, waiting for some sort of reaction.
"You'll have to ask my wirshkaru that question," Deanna said, emphasizing the Bendalite term, which the universal translator left untouched, enough that Beverly had to swallow down her amusement which was, without a doubt, telepathically broadcast to the entire table.
Mersuka was unbothered by or unaware of the amusement. She looked at Will, but he avoided making eye contact, and she must have sensed his reluctance to answer the question and realized that it might be a social faux-pas to pursue an answer from someone who didn't want to give one.
Her attention didn't stay long on Will. Instead, it drifted back to Beverly and Jean-Luc—who sat at the head of the table and to Beverly's right, with Rashka across from Beverly and Seraki to Rashka's right.
"You don't wear any trinket of your marry," Mersuka offered, speaking to Beverly. Beverly didn't bother to correct her use of "marry" at the moment.
"We're not married," Beverly said, feigning a great deal more interest in the food on her plate than she actually felt.
"You are not wirshkaru?" Mersuka asked.
"Mersuka…" Seraki interrupted, "you are making people uncomfortable, and you are making a poor impression for our entire society."
"She's only curious," Beverly said, trying to cover over the fact that she was feeling a little uncomfortable, something Seraki probably knew instinctively. Beverly held the eyes of the older Bendalite—darker purple than those of her daughter, but also with the same vertical pupil that was clearly common in their species. "She wants to learn."
"Mersuka has always been anxious to learn," Seraki agreed. "However—some may find that quest for knowledge a bit overwhelming and…bothersome."
Beverly smiled at Seraki.
"I have a son that's not that much younger than Mersuka, I imagine," Beverly offered. "He's—inquisitive. I understand."
Seraki smiled warmly.
"Then, my daughter will be in good care while we're separated from her," Seraki said. "How many young have you borne in your lifetime?"
"One," Beverly said. "My son…and then, of course, I am expecting."
"Your species does not mate often," Seraki said. It sounded like more of a musing than a question.
"Mersuka is not your only child?" Beverly asked.
"Mersuka is my last child," Seraki offered. "I have borne young each season since it was proper for me to do so—as is befitting of someone who wishes to enhance the population of their people. I have borne thirty-four young. Twenty-eight of them have been with my wirshkaru."
She smiled and patted the arm of Rashka.
"I have sired fifty-seven young," Rashka offered proudly.
Down the table, Will sounded as though he strangled on something, but he covered it over with a long drink of water.
"A small number, really, for a Proate," Varshi offered. "It is practice, among our people, for those of higher stature to take as many mates as possible. Some are too attached to their wirshkaru for the good of the people."
Beverly didn't need to be telepathic to sense that there was a touch of something in Varshi's voice. She wasn't certain if it was aggression or simply disapproval. Under the table, she tapped Jean-Luc's knee with her hand. He clearly didn't need her signal, because he was changing the subject even as she touched him.
"Well—I think I'd like to propose a toast to the…flourishing future of the Bendalites, and the…growth of friendship and trust between the Bendalites and the other peoples of the Federation," Jean-Luc offered.
The toast was enough to distract everyone from Varshi's comment and, as soon as everyone had taken a drink from their glasses, Jean-Luc steered Rashka into a conversation that had to do with his hopes for the Bendalite people as they looked, hopefully, looked toward a future as members of the Federation, while Beverly entertained Serati by listening to her dote on all of her progeny—each of which, it seemed, was highly successful on their planet.
111
"Do you think there was something between Rashka and Varshi?" Beverly asked. "I mean the tension was obvious, but…"
"Nothing more than, perhaps, professional jealousy," Jean-Luc said. "At least, that's what I thought it was. Did you suspect something different?"
"Not really," Beverly said. "But—there was clearly something there."
"Competition?" Jean-Luc asked, laughing quietly.
"That male ego," Beverly teased. She didn't hold back her laughter at all when Jean-Luc playfully pinched the back of her neck. He laughed, too, and immediately rubbed the spot where he'd pinched her, though he hadn't done it hard enough to even leave a residual sting.
"I feel awful subjecting you to the constant company of an individual that asks fifty questions a minute—and most of them about the state of your uterus," Jean-Luc teased.
They were alone, finally. They had showered, together, and they'd taken their time, despite the fact that they both had to be up early in the morning. The dinner had been tense for a number of reasons, and they'd showered in silence so that they could each re-center themselves a little after fielding the constant conversation.
Beverly sat on Jean-Luc's bed, at his invitation, in the nightgown she'd replicated, while he worked at the knots in her neck and shoulders. Normally, she would have insisted that such a practice wasn't necessary, but she hadn't argued with him at all tonight. He'd expressed his desire to do this for her, and she'd simply accepted. He seemed appreciative of that on multiple levels, and she would have been lying to say that she wasn't enjoying the massage and, just as much, simply being touched by Jean-Luc in such a tender manner after doing without his affection for so long.
"She's young," Beverly said. "And she is very smart. Serati said she's studying at their elite medical institution, and her study here will be part of a portfolio project that she'll submit for publication and, hopefully, to help her earn a good placement for an internship. If following me around, asking me questions, and…observing how we handle what they consider to be practically a…a sacred act of service to society…helps her out? I'm willing to help the girl. She can experiment on me a little."
"She has no filter," Jean-Luc said. Some of his irritation came through in his tone. Beverly reached her hand up and patted his hand as he worked at her neck.
"There, there," she teased. "I believe that comes from living in a culture where there are no secrets. It's normal to them, but a lot for us to get used to. Maybe I should be rubbing your shoulders, Jean-Luc. I could, if you'd like. It might help you sleep better."
Jean-Luc kissed the back of her neck and then the crook of her neck tenderly. The sensation that it caused ran through her body and throbbed between her legs. Beverly had no doubt that, when Jean-Luc was ready for bed, she would offer him another way to get to sleep quickly and easily—but she wasn't going to tell him that just yet.
"As long as you agree to stay with me, Beverly, I'll sleep fine," Jean-Luc offered.
"I would draw too much attention going back to my quarters now," Beverly teased. "Especially dressed as I am. I suppose you'll just have to make do with me taking up half of your bed."
"You can have more than that, if you like," Jean-Luc said. "If it would make you more comfortable."
Beverly turned to face Jean-Luc, then. He looked at her expectantly. She smiled at him.
"Give me your hand," she said. He obliged. She pressed it to her belly. "Do you feel that? Really—press your fingers in there, Jean-Luc. You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise. Can you feel it?"
"I want to. Desperately," Jean-Luc said. Beverly could hear the rest as surely as if she'd somehow picked up some sort of residual telepathy from having spent an entire evening among the Bendalites.
"Soon," Beverly assured him. "We'll just keep trying."
"But the baby is moving?" Jean-Luc asked. Beverly hummed in the affirmative.
"Well aware that Papa is present, talking, and…making Mama feel good."
Jean-Luc's cheeks blushed slightly pink in the dim light of the bedroom.
"Whatever I can," he said. "Whatever you want…"
Beverly smiled, understanding him perfectly despite his lack, perhaps, of absolute eloquence at the moment.
"I have a few ideas," she said. "If you're ready for bed." Jean-Luc simply nodded and changed his position, inviting her to join him. She smiled at him before she laid down next to him. "Jean-Luc…?"
"Yes, Beverly?" He asked.
"I don't want to be demanding. I don't even know if…I'm truly in a place to be demanding…"
"You can have whatever you want, if it's in my power to give," Jean-Luc assured her, smiling up at her as he leaned on his elbow. She nodded her understanding of his words.
"Don't disappear for a week after tonight," she said.
Jean-Luc reached up and caught her neck, tugging her toward him. He gave her time to change her position so that she could kiss him the way that he wanted—the way that she wanted. He brushed his thumb over her lips when the kiss broke.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. He laughed quietly. "And if I do—it's more about Mersuka than you."
"Jean-Luc…" Beverly said, doing her best to put scolding behind her tone, but her amusement escaped. He laughed at her.
"Come to bed, Beverly," Jean-Luc said. "Let me make the week up to you."