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
When Beverly had finished the scan with Dr. Moran, her shift and the work she needed to wrap up, a quick workout in one of her favorite holodeck programs, and a shower, she made her way to Jean-Luc's quarters to prepare for dinner. He wasn't back yet, but she let herself in and she replicated everything that would be needed to set the mood for a nice, relaxing dinner.
When everything was as ready as it could be, Beverly sat and closed her eyes. For just a moment, she focused on just what Mersuka kept believing she wanted most, thanks to a slight misinterpretation of her thoughts—breathing air.
This was the first moment that she'd felt she could really be entirely alone with her thoughts. Even in the shower, she'd felt oddly jumpy that, somehow, the Bendalite was reading her thoughts from a distance. She felt a little bad for pushing their charge off on Deanna for a good part of the day, but she soothed herself with the belief that Deanna was probably much better with telepaths than most individuals aboard the ship would be.
She wasn't able to sit long or even hone her focus. Restlessness was practically running rampant inside her like an animal trying to get out at every junction of her body. She hit her feet as soon as she'd sat down and started to leave Jean-Luc's quarters, convincing herself that even a brisk walk around the ship might take care of the excess energy she hadn't seemed able to burn off even on the holodeck.
Just before she reached the doors to Jean-Luc's quarters, to step outside, they slid open and Jean-Luc walked in. Beverly stopped short, and her heart felt like it skidded to an unexpected halt, too.
A smile bloomed on Jean-Luc's face the second he saw her, and he reached his hands out in her direction. Beverly smiled, but she didn't miss the uneasiness she felt still stirring inside her.
"You look beautiful," Jean-Luc said. "And here I am, not at all fresh from the day, I fear."
Beverly accepted his embrace, and she returned his kiss, but her stomach churned with the low-grade anxiety that was currently ever-present.
"If you'd like to shower…" Beverly offered.
"I was hoping that I might convince you to shower with me," Jean-Luc said. "Perhaps—after dinner? I can see you've already showered, but…if you'd like to join me…"
"We'll see. Wesley…?" Beverly asked.
At the last minute, Jean-Luc had asked Wesley to join him. There would be some time between settling the Bendalite delegation and attending the briefing. Jean-Luc said that he wanted to have the opportunity to show Wesley a few things, and Beverly had given her permission for Wesley to accompany him—not that Jean-Luc really needed her permission for Wesley to go with him.
"He said to tell you that he has a great deal that he wants to do this evening, and that's after a planned dinner with Geordi. He said to tell you goodnight, and he'll see you in the morning."
Beverly touched the combadge she'd pinned to her dress while waiting for the return of both Jean-Luc and Wesley.
"Doctor Crusher to Ensign Crusher," Beverly said.
"Did you need something, Mom?" Wesley came back. Beverly smiled to herself.
"I was going to ask you the same question," Beverly said. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine, Mom," Wesley said. "Captain Picard should be there soon."
Jean-Luc smiled at Beverly and worked the muscles of her upper arms in his hands. She smiled back at him.
"Captain Picard is here," Beverly offered.
"Did he tell you I'm with Geordi?"
"He did."
"Did you need something—are you OK?" Wesley asked.
"I'm fine, Wesley," Beverly said. "I just—wanted to say goodnight."
There was the slightest pop of laughter from the other side of the open channel between them.
"Have a good night, Mom," Wesley said. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Breakfast?" Beverly asked.
"Sure," Wesley said. "I'll see you at breakfast. Night, Mom!"
"Have a good night," Beverly said. "And—don't stay up too late."
Wesley's acknowledgement of Beverly's words was half-hearted, and he ended their connection. Jean-Luc pressed a hand to Beverly's shoulder.
"Shall we—have dinner? I see you've set everything up. May I serve?"
"I wasn't sure what to program," Beverly admitted. "I didn't know what you'd like. I chose a stew and bread, but you can change the order."
"It sounds wonderful," Jean-Luc assured her, leading her to the table and settling her in her chair as he often did—putting her at the side of the table, nearer to him than putting her across the table would allow them to be. "Have you taken your medicine?" Beverly told him that she hadn't, and a moment later she tipped her head to the side to accept the medication that Jean-Luc decided to "wash down" with a quick kiss that, simple as it was, sent a shiver through her body. Soon, he'd brought everything to the table and settled down at the head, next to her. He lit the candles and requested that the lights be dimmed for ambience.
Beverly thanked him and took the practically obligatory first bite of her food as a gesture to tell Jean-Luc he was free to eat, since he would wait however long he had to for her to begin the meal.
Right away, Beverly was pleased with her choice for the meal. The stew was warm and comforting, and she felt herself relaxing from simply eating. It was only after a few bites that she realized she had forgotten to eat since breakfast. Jean-Luc's smirk drew her out of herself for a moment.
"What?" She asked.
"You're hungry," Jean-Luc mused, offering her another piece of bread. Beverly backed off of her meal a little, realizing that she'd been eating a bit too enthusiastically. Jean-Luc reached a hand out and touched her arm. "Don't. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I enjoy watching you enjoy things…all things."
Beverly's body responded to the suggestion more than was really called for. She relaxed, though, and picked up her spoon again. This time, she waited before taking another bite.
"I guess I'm just—feeling tired," she said.
"If you'd like, we can sleep early tonight," Jean-Luc offered. "You do require your rest, that much I know."
"It's not that kind of tired," Beverly said. "Mersuka is…"
"Wearing you out," Jean-Luc finished. "She's absolutely exhausting. Varshi will be staying aboard to help keep an eye on Mersuka. If you'd like, I'll tell him that she needs to have a little time to do her work away from you."
"She's just young, and enthusiastic, and…"
"And absolutely exhausting," Jean-Luc repeated with a laugh. "Rashka and Seraki are very likeable individuals, but having spent the day with my every thought being…being probed? On display? I was only too happy to offer them over to the person assigned to them. I cannot imagine how tired you must be after the whole day with Mersuka."
Beverly laughed quietly to herself. She relaxed a little more, suddenly feeling a touch silly that she'd let herself get worked up over anything Mersuka had said. There remained a current of uneasiness running through her, but it was hard to think of Jean-Luc—attentive and caring as he was trying his best to be—as having any kind of negative thoughts toward Beverly or their child.
"I'll survive," she offered. "How did the meetings go today? How was your day?"
Jean-Luc half-shrugged.
"They are expecting a two-week visitation for a leisurely introduction to the Federation and for negotiation," Jean-Luc said. "As we expected."
Beverly groaned and shook her head.
"Two weeks with Mersuka," she mused. Jean-Luc laughed quietly.
"I will speak to Varshi about his ward, if you would like," Jean-Luc said. "Perhaps we can find some forms of entertainment aboard the ship that she finds agreeable. Something taking place outside your uterus. All work and no play…and such."
Beverly smiled.
"I'm sure we'll find something to keep her busy," Beverly agreed.
"In the meantime," Jean-Luc said, "so that we are available to return the Bendalites to their home world when their visit is done, we're being sent to Merobi II to handle some kind of internal conflict that's taking place there. It shouldn't take long. We'll be back in time to escort the Bendalites home. After that, we've been ordered back for ship's maintenance and for crew and complement R and R before we're heading into deep space once more."
"What do we know about the conflict?" Beverly asked.
"Not much as of yet," Jean-Luc said. "I should receive all the information that the Federation currently has by morning. But—enough about that, Beverly. I want to hear about your day. Do you have anything to share with me?"
Beverly's pulse picked up, and her heart drummed in her chest. The undercurrent of anxiety welled up a bit.
"Didn't you want to wait to see the recording until we've finished eating?" She asked.
"We can watch it whenever you're ready," Jean-Luc said. "Later suits me fine, Beverly. But—perhaps you could…give me the highlights? Tell me…anything I need to know?"
Beverly felt her cheeks run warm. She felt the warmth rush through her whole body. She shifted, changing her position, and picked out her favorite pieces of the stew to buy herself a moment.
Jean-Luc looked so much like a little boy at Christmas, waiting for permission to see what was left under the tree for him. In the candlelight, a light all his own seemed to shine in his eyes. His focus on Beverly was every bit as intense as any she'd received from Mersuka throughout the run of the day, but the affection was palpable. In spite of the gnawing feeling of anxiety, Beverly couldn't help but smile.
"Well—I had a full panel and a complete physical—just to be sure and to indulge Mersuka with the opportunity to practice a little of nearly everything with Dr. Moran," Beverly said. "All of my numbers have come back wonderful, really."
"Excellent," Jean-Luc said. Beverly's smile renewed itself, and she nodded gently.
"My weight is up from before," she said.
"Is it as it should be?" Jean-Luc asked.
"It's fine," Beverly assured him. "It's always difficult to hear you've gained weight."
"But it's for an excellent cause," Jean-Luc said. Beverly laughed.
"It is," she agreed.
"And the baby's weight?" Jean-Luc asked.
"Still a little low," Beverly said. "However, it's not worrisome. Wesley wasn't a large baby, and it's likely that…that I'll always carry in the lower percentiles."
"But—all is well?"
"Very well, Jean-Luc," Beverly assured him. He sighed, and Beverly realized that he'd held his breath for a second. She realized that, perhaps, he'd been at least a little worried for some time. The familiar rush of tenderness and affection that she felt toward him—so much stronger lately, and much more commonly occurring—flooded through her. She swallowed against the lump it brought up in her throat. "The baby's numbers look good. The scan—you're going to be amazed at everything. I brought you some images, in case you wanted them." She held a finger up and excused herself a moment to retrieve the images from their place. She brought them and, taking her seat again, she passed them to Jean-Luc.
Jean-Luc looked slowly through the images, and Beverly watched his face. She didn't have to be a telepath to know some of his thoughts. The gentle smile on his lips told her what he was thinking, at least to some degree.
"Remarkable," he said.
"Heart function is normal," Beverly said. "The brain looks good. Everything is accounted for and organs are in the correct location. The baby's spine appears to be correctly aligned and…well…you get the idea, Jean-Luc."
"Our baby is perfect," Jean-Luc mused, still studying the pictures.
"At least—very close to it," Beverly said.
"And…its mother?" Jean-Luc asked, glancing at Beverly and holding her eyes a moment. "Is everything truly so perfect?"
"Everything looks good," Beverly said. "My pregnancy is textbook, even."
Jean-Luc smiled and looked back at the picture.
"I am, of course, happy to hear it," he said. "And—this is really our little one."
Beverly hummed.
"Not at all shy," she offered.
"No. Not at all. Is it sucking its thumb?" Jean-Luc asked.
"And yawning," Beverly said, leaning to point to a different picture. "Every bit as active as I imagined. We got quite the show. We could hardly convince it to be still for even a moment."
"And I missed it," Jean-Luc said.
"I have the entire thing recorded for you," Beverly assured him, patting his arm.
Seeing his expression, she suddenly wished she'd rescheduled. Dr. Moran would have been happy to do so, but Beverly had quickly and easily convinced herself that Jean-Luc wouldn't really mind missing the scan and, in his absence, she could find out any information that he might find disagreeable and have the time to figure out how to present it to him more delicately.
Now, she wasn't sure she'd made the right decision. Still, they did have the recording. He could still see what he'd missed.
Beverly turned back to her stew, but she didn't really feel dedicated to eating more of it. In silence, she let Jean-Luc finish his careful contemplation of the pictures. When he put them aside, he picked up his spoon as though he might continue eating. Beverly pushed the remaining ingredients of her own meal around the inside of her bowl.
She could feel him looking at her. Finally, she made eye contact with him.
"Did you—consider anything else?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly laughed to herself.
"Do you mean—did I ask if our baby was a boy or a girl?" Beverly asked. Jean-Luc's face lit up a bit more than before. "Can I ask—is there any particular reason you want to know, Jean-Luc?"
He considered it and half-shrugged. He leaned toward Beverly.
"I thought, if we knew, we could…prepare," Jean-Luc said.
"We can prepare without knowing the baby's sex," Beverly said.
"We could choose a name," Jean-Luc responded.
"We could choose a name for either," Beverly said. Jean-Luc's expression softened, and he laughed to himself.
"I told you, Beverly, it's up to you. If you don't want to know…"
"But—I do know," Beverly said.
He looked at her almost as though she'd splashed him in the face with iced water. She turned her whole body toward him a bit more. He didn't ask her again. He simply sat and waited.
"Jean-Luc…is there…anything you'd like to tell me about whether or not you have any expectations or…whatever the case may be…for our child?" Beverly asked.
He furrowed his brow at her.
"I don't know what you mean," Jean-Luc said. "Is something wrong, Beverly?"
"I programmed something for you," Beverly said, shaking her head as the only answer to his question. "For us. It's—silly. An old tradition, but…would you care for some dessert, Jean-Luc?"
"Whatever you like," he said. "I'll get it. You stay seated. Please."
"I programmed the specifications as Picard Éclair 1," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc smiled at her reassuringly, nodded gently, and got up. Beverly moved their bowls and bread plates out of the way. When Jean-Luc returned, he placed a small plate in front of each of them with an éclair on it. Beverly already knew that the custard, inside both of them, was tinted.
"I do enjoy an éclair from time to time," Jean-Luc offered, sitting in his chair again. "Am I correct in assuming that this one holds some sort of message?" Beverly nodded, and Jean-Luc laughed quietly. "I'm not sure why," he admitted. "Perhaps it's your demeanor, but I've never felt more terrified of a dessert before. May I…or is there some process I'm supposed to follow to do this correctly?"
"I'm sorry," Beverly said. "No—it's just a dessert. Bite it. Look at the custard."
"Very well," Jean-Luc said. "Cheers," he teased, raising his pastry. Beverly couldn't bring herself, at the moment, to touch her own. Jean-Luc bit into the pastry and chewed for a second. She saw the moment that he saw the color of the custard. He furrowed his brow at it, and then he smiled. The smile was a nervous one, she knew, but she couldn't read the exact reason for it—not out of all the possible reasons that existed. Jean-Luc returned the éclair to his plate for a moment and wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin.
"Well, Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked. "Are you—disappointed?"
She thought she saw absolutely undeniable proof of his disappointment on his face, though he did his best to hide it as quickly as it showed up.
"How could I be?" He asked. "You are well. The baby is well. And—if I am reading the dessert correctly—I can have every hope that she is…that she is as…beautiful, and smart, and…everything…as her mother."
"And you wanted a boy," Beverly said, her stomach sinking.
"Why would you say that?" Jean-Luc asked.
"Jean-Luc—you sound like you're giving a eulogy," Beverly said. "And—you look like it, too. You wanted a boy."
"I wanted our little one to be healthy," Jean-Luc said. "I wanted you to be healthy. You've assured me that both are the case. For that, I am very happy."
"You don't have to be diplomatic with me, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "We're alone, and this isn't a negotiation. You wanted a boy, and…it's OK if you're disappointed. We can talk about it."
"Beverly, I…" Jean-Luc said, but he stopped. It was clear that he didn't know what to say. He hadn't prepared what he might say, and he was having trouble finding the words now.
"Mersuka told me," Beverly admitted.
Jean-Luc nodded slightly.
"I see," he mused.
"She told me that you were sure the baby was a boy, and that you…wouldn't be pleased with a girl," Beverly said.
"Well—she had no business rummaging around in my thoughts," Jean-Luc said, a touch of something akin to anger making his voice a little sharp. "She certainly had no business sharing them. Beverly…I…" He stopped, again, and sighed. Beverly gave him the space he needed for the time being. He sighed and shook his head gently. "It would seem that…we have a great deal to discuss."
Beverly was slightly struck by the words and the tone behind them.
"We can discuss whatever you want," Beverly said. "As much as you'd like, Jean-Luc."
"Perhaps it would be better, if we're going to dedicate ourselves to a serious discussion, if we were to put everything on the table," Jean-Luc said.
"What do you mean?" Beverly asked.
Jean-Luc raised up and, drawing something from his pocket, he placed a box on the table beside the dessert plate that she hadn't touched since he'd first put it in front of her.
At the sight of the black felt-covered box, Beverly's heart seemed to practically stop beating.