AN: Here we are, another piece for this story.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
"She is a very…sweet…girl…" Deanna said.
Beverly bit her lip. She wasn't sure if someone who wasn't accustomed to having conversations with Deanna as often as she did would notice the steady hesitation in her voice as she struggled to get through a kind description of Mersuka.
"She is young," Beverly said, searching for her own positive description of the Bendalite that, at the moment, was being kept away from them as they finalized Beverly's preparations for the following day. She'd already chosen and dispatched her medical team to rest and prepare. They were likely going to enter a triage situation. It could be hectic and traumatizing—the effects of war often were—and she wanted everyone rested and in the best headspace they could be in when she took them down there. She could finish the final preparations of packing field kits with Deanna and tallying up inventory for Starfleet records. "She's—inexperienced. She's never really been around members of other species. But…"
"You can say it," Deanna said. "I already know what you're going to say. I can feel it. It's true for me, too. She's utterly exhausting."
Beverly laughed and Deanna echoed the laughter.
"I thought it might be easier for you," Beverly said. "I admit that might be ignorant, but I thought with growing up on Betazed, you might be accustomed to…to having people in your mind all the time."
"Having her in my mind is one thing," Deanna said. "But there has never been an individual so concerned about the state of my uterus besides my mother."
"At least her parents thought to leave us Varshi to help occupy some of her time and energy," Beverly said.
"I'm not certain he's going to be much better," Deanna said, shaking her head. "There's something about him that I can't quite explain. He's much better at controlling his mind than Mersuka is, so she's easier to read than he is."
"I haven't interacted much with him outside of dinner. As for Mersuka, I can handle her involvement with my uterus, but she's driving me crazy in my mind. I'm dreading the next time I have to interact with her."
"What's wrong?" Deanna asked. "I could sense that you're anxious. I thought it might be the wedding."
"No," Beverly said. "No—I mean…I guess I have some butterflies, but…that's to be expected, isn't it? I'm not even the slightest bit hesitant to marry Jean-Luc. I've loved him…too long. The butterflies are more from thinking it's really happening."
Deanna smiled at her, and she continued to wear the smile as she continued her work.
"Then—why the anxiety?" Deanna asked. "I have sensed something of an ongoing anxiety with you, Beverly."
"It's the baby," Beverly said.
"Is something wrong?" Deanna asked, suddenly looking concerned and, truthfully, almost panicked. Beverly laughed quietly and shook her head. She straightened up to her full height and stretched her back, reminding herself that she should do that from time to time. Deanna copied her, seeming to also realize that she was feeling stiff from holding similar positions for a while. Welcoming the break for a moment, Beverly ran her hand affectionately over her belly.
"Nothing's wrong. Not that I'm aware, at least. It's just—there's this constant low-level hum of anxiety practically buzzing inside my body. Almost all the time. It was the same way with Wesley. It's normal, really. I mean—women have any number of emotions while pregnant. When I focus, and I talk myself through it, it settles a bit, but otherwise it's just always there—just below the surface."
"The wedding this evening," Deanna said. "The mission tomorrow. It's no wonder you're feeling anxious, Beverly. If you need some time for meditation, I'll be happy to finish here."
"No—it's fine," Beverly said. "I'm fine, really. My blood pressure is normal. It's not enough to do more than just…"
"Cause a state of unease," Deanna offered, finishing where Beverly let the words fade. Beverly laughed and hummed. She pressed her fingers against a spot where she could feel the baby kicking, trying to detect the movement from outside of her body. Deanna clearly noticed what she was doing and smiled, her whole face flooding with emotion.
"Is the baby kicking?" Deanna asked.
Beverly smiled and nodded.
"Mersuka keeps trying to feel it," Beverly said. "And I keep trying to find a diplomatic way to tell her that I'd prefer if she weren't constantly touching me."
"Being touched out is very much a thing," Deanna said. "Touch fatigue is…well…it's similar to the telepathic contact fatigue that we often feel from interactions like those with Mersuka that are a bit too overzealous. If you'd like, I could make something of a ship wide announcement about expectant mothers and touch fatigue. That could be a delicate way of letting everyone know that you might need some hands-off time—even the captain, if that's how you're feeling."
"I'm not feeling that way with Jean-Luc at all," Beverly said, shaking her head. "In fact, his touch is one of the few things that makes me feel entirely…normal. He grounds me. When he's touching me, no matter how insignificant the touch, I feel like I can relax entirely. It's like he speaks directly to that low-level anxiety, and he just…calms it. At least, most of the time, when he's not stirring it up."
Deanna laughed quietly.
"It sounds like your low-level anxiety is an insecurity," Deanna said. "A constant need to read the situation in case something is threatening to you or, perhaps, your little one. It sounds as if the captain is your safety."
"Very much so," Beverly breathed out.
"And Mersuka is, perhaps, a threat?" Deanna asked. "Could that be why you respond so viscerally to her touch? I reached out for you earlier and I sensed no reaction."
"Not a threat," Beverly said. "Not exactly. I don't mind her touch, it's just…Jean-Luc hasn't felt the baby move. He's tried, but the kicks haven't been strong enough yet. I want him to have that experience first. I don't want him to have that after Mersuka." She shook her head. "That's an entirely irrational thought, I know, but I can't help it. I'll add it to the list of irrational biochemical responses I'm having, just like the constant buzz of anxiety."
"It's not so unusual to want to share the movement of your child with your partner," Deanna said. "Beverly…your anxiety seems to be increasing slightly. Is there anything else you'd like to talk to me about?"
Beverly had returned to their work, and Deanna followed suit.
"Doctor-patient confidentiality," Beverly said. "I found out that the baby is a girl."
"Oh! Beverly! Congratulations!" Deanna practically squealed. Beverly didn't need to be an empath to know that she was genuinely pleased. She offered a hug of congratulations, and Beverly accepted it.
"Thank you," Beverly said.
"But you're not pleased?" Deanna asked.
Beverly shrugged.
"I'm happy," she said. "I didn't really want a boy or a girl. I would have been happy with either. I enjoyed raising Wesley, and I wouldn't have minded another boy. A girl is something I don't have, though. Either way, I would have been happy. Jean-Luc, on the other hand…"
"The captain isn't happy with a girl?" Deanna asked.
"He wanted a boy," Beverly said. "And I know he's disappointed. I can sense it and, more than that, Mersuka told me that she'd read it in his thoughts. And that's fine, really. He doesn't want to talk about it, though. Not yet. I'm hoping that he'll still bond with her, it's just going to take him some time. He's still trying, though, and I guess that's why I don't want Mersuka to be able to say that she felt the baby before him. I want him to have that experience first to, maybe, help them bond."
Deanna smiled and patted Beverly's arm.
"I'll talk to Mersuka about—being over-touched," Deanna offered. "I'm sure we can help her find a way to keep her hands to herself for a while."
"And her mind?" Beverly asked with a laugh.
"I'm not a miracle worker," Deanna teased.
111
Jean-Luc tugged at the neck of his dress uniform, trying to will it to be looser. Will had buttoned it in Beverly's absence. They had made the decision to announce the marriage to the ship after it had taken place. When the conflict on Merobi II was taken care of, they would arrange for a reception, during which time anyone who wanted to celebrate their nuptials with them would have the opportunity to do so. This evening, the exchanging of vows was a private matter, attended only by the Alpha shift senior officers that were closest to them.
There was no need for decorations in the meeting room that they'd cleared enough to allow space for their few guests. Everyone was there except for Beverly, Wesley, and Deanna.
Jean-Luc's breathing caught when Deanna eased the door open and stepped in, peeking in first like she expected to see something entirely unexpected. She was dressed in a light green dress, and Jean-Luc wondered if it might match, in some way, what Beverly had chosen.
He never cared about clothing, really, but he suddenly cared a great deal about what Beverly would be wearing. He wasn't a stickler for fashion, and she could have come dressed in anything and he would have been happy, but he found himself at least a little infatuated by the idea that he was about to see Beverly and whatever she happened to be wearing would be what she wore the day that she became his bride.
Jean-Luc was about to marry the only woman that he'd ever truly, deeply loved.
"Are we ready?" Deanna asked, her voice barely loud enough to carry across the small room, as though she might disturb the sanctity of the space.
"What do you say, Captain?" Will teased. "Are you ready to get the show on the road?"
There was a little laughter from Geordi, and Data joined him, seeming to feel that he should laugh in solidarity and, probably, not because he really understood Will's teasing.
"I've never been more ready for anything," Jean-Luc admitted, feeling no need to play coy about the situation.
Deanna smiled, nodded, and disappeared back out the door. A moment later, she returned and practically jogged to stand near the captain—enough room between them to let him know that she was expecting to be there for anything Beverly might need.
A moment later, without all the pomp and circumstance of an actual wedding, the door opened again. Wesley stepped through first, holding the door for his mother. Beverly slipped her arm into Wesley's, and Jean-Luc couldn't hide the smile that immediately came to his face.
She had chosen a simple dress of something that appeared to be off-white satin. There were some embellishments that, much like he'd imagined, matched the soft green of Deanna's dress. She'd chosen to wear her hair half pulled back, but she'd foregone a veil and even flowers—there was nobody to catch a bouquet, at any rate, except Deanna.
From across the small distance, as Wesley led her toward him, Beverly's eyes caught Jean-Luc's. He held them and smiled at her, hoping that there was only happiness in her eyes and, perhaps, evidence of the few fluttering butterflies that maybe matched the ones that had taken up residence in his stomach. Wesley's smile said that he had meant his blessing, and he somewhat bowed at Jean-Luc before handing over Beverly's hand to him and stepping to Jean-Luc's side.
Holding Beverly's hand, Jean-Luc felt his pulse pick up. This was the last time that he would ever take her hand when she wouldn't be his wife. If he were a lucky man, this would be the hand that he held when he left this world. Hers would be the last eyes he looked into before they close the final time.
Instead of making him feel melancholy at all, the thoughts made his heart soar.
Jean-Luc barely heard the words that were said, but he memorized nearly every curve and line of Beverly's face. He noticed the flecks of different colors in her eyes. He watched the movements of her lips as her smile reflected how she was feeling. He felt the coolness of her fingers and marveled at how perfectly her hand seemed to fit in his.
He repeated his vows as Will said them, with feeling and meaning, but he knew that he meant so much more than the vows really said. His heart thundered as Beverly said her vows, smiling all the while at him, and he practically held his breath with the oddly inexplicable fear that something might stop this from happening when it was so close to coming to pass.
And, then, before he knew it, he was accepting the rings from Wesley with a slightly shaky hand. He slipped Beverly's into place, and he allowed her to do the same. The ring felt strange on his finger—completely foreign—and completely wonderful.
"I now pronounce you man and wife. Captain—you may kiss your bride."
Jean-Luc felt practically dizzy. Beverly smiled at him and leaned toward him. He took her in his arms, and he brought their lips together. He closed his eyes.
He was a married man—something he'd never thought he would be. And he was married to the only woman that could convince him to take on such a role. He had never believed that something like this would come to pass, but it had.
Jean-Luc was kissing his wife for the first time, he hoped, of very many times to come.
At the sound of applause from their friends, Beverly and Jean-Luc broke the kiss and looked around, since their small party was slowly moving to form a little bunch.
"I present to everyone gathered here, Mr. and Mrs. Jean-Luc Picard," Will offered.
Jean-Luc stood with his arms around Beverly, holding her as though she might try disappear. It felt good to have her in his arms. It felt good, honestly, to feel like he had that right to hold her, even in public, for just a moment. There was no decorum that must be followed, for the time being, that said he must let her go and keep his professional distance. They were, after all, very newly married.
"Thank you all for joining us," Jean-Luc said, not letting go of her just yet. "And for witnessing the start of our marriage and the vows we have exchanged. We look forward to sharing all that's to come with all of you." There was another light round of applause, and there were congratulations and well-wishes from everyone. Jean-Luc and Beverly thanked everyone, and Jean-Luc released Beverly to allow her to offer hugs to everyone who came with arms outstretched.
Then, he dismissed everyone to get ready for the morning to come, made a simple announcement to the ship that they had married in a private ceremony, but would let the ship know when there would be a public reception where he hoped everyone would join them, and then Jean-Luc pressed another kiss to Beverly's lips and wrapped his arm around her again.
"We have a big day tomorrow," Jean-Luc said.
"We do," Beverly agreed. She would, after all, be leading a group that would go down to deal with the medical crisis on Merobi II.
"Would you like to go to bed, Dr. Picard?"
Beverly smiled at him.
"I would," she said. "But—I think, just for tonight? I'd just like to be…Mrs. Picard. If that's alright with you, Jean-Luc."
Jean-Luc smiled and kissed her before starting to lead her back to their quarters.
"It sounds perfect to me," he said. "I love you no matter what you're called, Beverly. I always have. But—I have to admit…Picard suits you well."