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
Transferring the Bendalite delegation to Federation Headquarters was going to require a few days of travel. During that time, it seemed that Mersuka's parents were more than happy to go ahead and hand her over to Beverly and, at times, Deanna, to begin her studies aboard the Enterprise.
Beverly didn't mind the Bendalite youth too much, but there were moments when she found the girl to be a touch too enthusiastic and open. Of course, Beverly assumed there was little need to worry about hiding your thoughts and feelings in a fully telepathic society, and Mersuka wasn't old enough, yet, to have learned all that her parents had learned about diplomacy and being polite among members of other species—especially given that Mersuka had met very few individuals from any species that wasn't her own.
Starfleet had cleared Beverly to discuss a great deal of information with Mersuka, especially since her primary interests were simply healthcare and the basic physiology of Federation species. She wasn't seeking any kind of restricted information in the least.
Mersuka practically followed Beverly like a shadow, joining her just as her shift started and hardly being convinced to leave her side at all throughout the day. Beverly had bumped into Mersuka more than once because she was always in such close proximity to her.
This morning, sickbay had been rather quiet. Beverly was supposed to have her scan with Dr. Moran soon, but other than that she had time to entertain Mersuka. She'd promised Dr. Moran that she'd make sure her appointment work-up was done before Dr. Moran even arrived to perform the scan and a quick check-up, and she'd spent the morning instructing Mersuka on how to collect samples and run tests, allowing herself to be the guinea pig for Mersuka's learning and practice.
She was pleased to see that every test came back with the best numbers that she could hope for, and she found that raised her mood to the point that the almost non-stop chattering of her shadow could hardly affect her at all.
"Is there a preference, Doctor, for the male of the species over the female?" Mersuka asked.
Beverly was accustomed to Mersuka's curiosity, at this point, and she barely bothered to look up from what she was doing, making sure that files were complete and organizing which individuals aboard the ship were due for which appointments.
"Do you mean in the human species?" Beverly asked. Mersuka hummed in the affirmative, and Beverly hummed back in the negative. "No…I don't suppose there is. Each individual has strengths and weaknesses. As far as reproduction goes, since I know that's your primary interest for your report, I suppose that you can consider that multiple births are less common than single births in the human species, and each woman—female, as you say—tends to only reproduce once a year, at best, during the years in which she can reproduce. Of course, we've extended those reproductive years a great deal from what they once were, but women are still limited in their reproduction."
"Males are not?" Mersuka asked.
Beverly laughed to herself.
"My understanding of Bendalite reproduction—at least from what I've been provided—leads me to believe it's not entirely dissimilar to human reproduction," Beverly said. "A man, should he seek to do so, can impregnate many females in a year."
"However, he is limited to the available and interested females," Mersuka said, her statement coming out as something of a question. Beverly smiled at her and nodded.
"Yes—that's true," Beverly said.
"Therefore," Mersuka said, "wouldn't it be reasonable to say that the female is more desirable than the male, as the species grows, because she allows for more growth?"
"If you're looking at it from a strictly numbers perspective, then I guess there's some weight to that argument," Beverly said. "However—humans, or Terrans, as we're sometimes called, are not currently at risk of extinction, so we're seldom too focused on reproduction for reproduction's sake—unlike species like the Bendalites that have reasons to focus on the numbers. For the most part, I'd say that we're a society that values males and females equally—much more equally than in the past, at least."
"There is a preference, then, in reproduction, for one or the other?"
"There are some archaic systems that persist, even when we don't realize that's what we're doing," Beverly said. "May I ask why you're concerned with this?"
Mersuka made a face, but it never took much to convince the chatty Bendalite to say what was on her mind. She needed only an open moment or two of silence to convince her to fill it.
"The captain is interested in discovering the sex of the youth you carry," Mersuka said.
Jean-Luc had walked Beverly and Mersuka to sickbay, after he'd finished breakfast with Beverly and Mersuka had met her to start her shift. Beverly had no doubt that there were lingering thoughts about the sex of the baby, since Jean-Luc had asked her, again, if she might be interested in finding out.
"For many parents, that's something they want to know as soon as possible," Beverly said.
"You don't."
"I would like the surprise," Beverly said.
"But you are changing your mind."
Beverly did her best not to grow annoyed at the probing of her mind. It could be, at times, exhausting.
"The captain would like to know," Beverly said, "and I would like for him to—be happy, I suppose. Whenever I find out, it will be a surprise. Whether that's at the scan or at birth, it'll be the same thing, really."
"The captain would like there to be confirmation that the young you're carrying is male," Mersuka said. "He is already confident in the sex, and he knows what he will find acceptable."
Beverly felt herself tense, involuntarily, and then she smiled.
"I can't speak for other species, really, but humans often daydream about their babies," Beverly said. "What they'll be, what they'll be like. The captain is indulging in daydreams, that's all."
"He clearly prefers the male of the species," Mersuka said. "His belief is strong enough that it's clear, to me, that he will be dissatisfied with a female, if that's what you are carrying. For that reason, I wondered what might be the reason for his preference."
Beverly's stomach tightened, and she felt the now-familiar flutters of her little one, likely responding to the rush of chemicals the statement stirred up in her body. Before she could think of a response for Mersuka, the Bendalite frowned at her.
"I am sorry," she said. "I should not have told you the thoughts and feelings of the captain. It's undiplomatic to disclose the thoughts of one non-telepath to another, is it not? He is your wirshkaru, is he not? I assumed that such thoughts would be disclosed among wiskaru. I was mistaken, and I should not have said anything."
Beverly searched for a moment for an answer. Her stomach churned with the simple knowledge that, as she searched for an answer, Mersuka was reading every non-answer that she gave. Mersuka's expressions confirmed this.
"Perhaps I was wrong to assume he was your wirshkaru," Mersuka said. "Or to assume that you would disclose your thoughts as non-telepaths in the same way that the Bendalite wirshkaru do."
Beverly smiled at the Bendalite, though she wasn't sure that she fully felt the expression for the time being.
"Mersuka…things are sometimes a little more complicated with non-telepathic species than they are with telepathic species," Beverly said. "We…take more time to disclose our thoughts and feelings. And, some, we decide to keep to ourselves because sharing them might hurt someone more than keeping them secret."
"So—you are not a wholly honest species?"
"I suppose not," Beverly said.
"Not even with your wirshkaru?"
"Maybe not. Not always."
"I should not have disclosed the captain's thoughts," Mersuka said. "You are concerned, now. You feel unsettled, and it wasn't my intention to cause you discomfort, especially not in your condition."
"My feelings are no threat to my condition, Mersuka," Beverly said, shaking her head. "It's fine. There's no real harm done."
"You would like me to leave you alone," Mersuka said. "I will—review my notes for some time. Until you are more pleased with my presence. After the scan, I will see the counselor and give you some room to…to breathe air, since that's what you would like most."
Mersuka didn't wait for Beverly to respond, but she didn't really have to do so. After all, she heard Beverly's response as it began forming in her mind—long before she shaped it into something she felt she should say. Mersuka took the device on which she'd been collecting her notes and put a little distance between them, settling down to study her notes and, possibly, to read Beverly's thoughts from a distance.
Distracted, Beverly tried to turn her attention back to her work and to focus.
"Do you have a moment, Doctor?"
Beverly turned when she heard Jean-Luc's voice. She smiled at him. Despite the fact that she had only seen him some short time before, some slightly-more-sentimental than usual feeling, perhaps, had her feeling particularly warm toward Jean-Luc. It didn't matter what Mersuka had said, Beverly felt better to simply be in Jean-Luc's presence for a moment.
"I have as long as you need," Beverly said. "Captain?" She asked, raising her eyebrows to ask if this was a professional call.
"Where is your young pupil?" Jean-Luc asked, looking around.
Beverly gestured with her head toward the spot Mersuka had chosen.
Jean-Luc must have decided that a show of affection didn't matter in front of Mersuka, because he stepped forward and kissed Beverly's cheek before he kissed her lips. He held her hands, working them in his own, and Beverly's whole body responded in such a way that she was almost embarrassed by it.
"You should pay me a visit in sickbay more often, Jean-Luc," Beverly said with a smile after the kiss broke.
"I'm afraid that I'm here with less than pleasant news, Beverly," Jean-Luc said.
"Is something wrong?" Beverly asked.
"Nothing catastrophic," Jean-Luc said with a teasing smile. He squeezed her hands. "I'm afraid it's more of a personal problem than a professional one."
"What is it?" Beverly asked.
"They've requested that I beam in temporarily with the Bendalite delegate to get them settled and to attend a briefing," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly's stomach already knew what he was saying. She gave him the best smile she could and nodded her understanding.
"I'll record the scan, Jean-Luc," she assured him, before he could continue or offer any unnecessary apology.
"I wanted to tell you personally," Jean-Luc said. "I wanted you to know that—this isn't me running, Beverly. I wanted, desperately, to see how our little one is growing. Truly. You must believe me."
Beverly's pulse picked up. She didn't need a telepath to tell her that he was being sincere. She swallowed against the entirely unexpected lump that formed in her throat.
"I believe you, Jean-Luc. I absolutely believe you. We can—watch it tonight," Beverly said. "Together. I'll tell you everything, Jean-Luc. You won't miss a thing."
Jean-Luc raised her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.
"I won't be there to hold your hand," he said.
Beverly smiled. She didn't need him to hold her hand. She'd done everything, almost, entirely alone when she'd been pregnant with Wesley. Still, she understood the sentiment behind what Jean-Luc was saying. He didn't believe that she couldn't get through things without him, he simply liked holding her hand—and she truly loved when he did so. It was all that he could do, really, and his lamentation over not being able to do it was as much for himself as it was for her.
Beverly squeezed his hand, and he responded with the same kind of squeeze in return.
"Hold it now," she said with a quick wink, "and I'll make sure that I hold onto the sensation for later."
Jean-Luc lowered his voice and leaned toward Beverly, still not quite grasping the fact that the nearby telepath could hear them regardless of the volume of their voices.
"Tell our little one that Papa wanted to be present," Jean-Luc said. "And that—he'll be there tonight for dinner and…whatever else you may choose to allow me."
Beverly smiled at him.
"You could tell our little one, yourself, Jean-Luc," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc's cheeks ran a little red, but he indulged her despite the Bendalite that was at least pretending to ignore them. He touched his fingertips to Beverly's belly with the same kind of awe that he normally used, and he leaned down to softly repeat his message.
The thoughts over when exactly a fetus could hear varied, and they changed often. Beverly chose to think that there was no harm in believing the baby could hear earlier, rather than later. The idea that he could interact with the baby, too, seemed to give Jean-Luc more enthusiasm and affection toward the little one. Even if the baby couldn't hear him, there was no harm done.
With his hand still warm on her belly, Jean-Luc kissed Beverly with a bit more passion than before. She couldn't stop herself from moaning her appreciation, and she was immediately glad that sickbay was almost abandoned entirely. She knew her cheeks were every bit as red as his when the kiss broke.
"Have you thought about—what I asked earlier?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly swallowed. Everything Mersuka had said, and everything she'd implied, came rushing back to Beverly.
"Beverly—are you unwell?" Jean-Luc asked, suddenly looking quite concerned. Beverly realized her expression or a change in her coloring must have given her away. It would be better, she decided, for him not to be there for the scan. Then, at least, she could have some time to prepare to either please him with their news or, in the case of something he may not care for, to prepare him.
"I'm fine," she said, hoping to reassure him. He wasn't telepathic, and he believed her, though he looked a little unsure. "I think—I'll find out. I can…tell you tonight. At dinner?"
"I look forward to it," Jean-Luc assured her.
"Me too," she said.
"Are you sure you're alright, Beverly?" Jean-Luc asked. "You look a little pale." He touched her forehead and then cheek like he was checking for fever. She leaned her cheek into his palm and turned her face enough to kiss his hand.
"Is there anything—you're hoping for, Jean-Luc?" She asked. "As far as the scan is concerned? Anything—in particular that you're hoping to find out about the baby?"
Jean-Luc looked like a weight had been lifted, and his smile was sincere. He laughed quietly.
"You're concerned about the scan," he said. "Of course, you are." Beverly realized that he suddenly attributed everything he'd read on her features to fears over the scan. "My only concern is that…mother and baby are well. I look forward to everything else you have to tell me this evening, when I return to the ship." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Will you mind if I take your pupil with me for a short while? Her parents would like to see her before they leave."
Beverly leaned and kissed his lips quickly and softly.
"I would absolutely love a few minutes alone," she assured him, meaning it entirely.
"I will be happy to visit the counselor after I've said goodbye to my parents," Mersuka said, immediately coming from her spot to join them—further proof that she'd likely overheard everything, despite her attempts to look disinterested. "I will return for your scan, if you don't mind my presence." Mersuka looked at Jean-Luc. "If the doctor requires anything, I will do my best to provide it for you, in your absence."
Jean-Luc made eye contact with Beverly.
"Thank you," was all he said to Mersuka, though the Bendalite probably heard the rest of what he left unsaid. "Beverly…"
"Good luck," Beverly said quickly. "I'll see you this evening."