AN: Here we are, another piece to the story!

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

111

"Mom!"

Jean-Luc felt they'd barely materialized entirely at the Caldos station before Wesley had already spotted them.

Beverly put her bag down—the one that she'd refused to let Jean-Luc help her carry—the moment that she stepped off the pad, and Jean-Luc put his own down to mirror her. She held her arms open to receive her son's offered hug. Wesley hugged her with a great deal of obvious and sincere affection, and Jean-Luc was happy to see it. Wesley was growing up and, as a young man, certainly needed some freedom and independence from his mother, but Jean-Luc also knew that Beverly had missed him desperately for the week, even though she hadn't mentioned a word of that in any of her messages to him, lest he feel guilty for making her even the slightest bit sad.

"Let me look at you," Beverly said, pushing Wesley off of her enough to hold him at arm's length and examine him. She smiled at him. "I swear—I think you've grown an inch in a week."

Wesley had not grown an inch, but he did straighten himself up to his full height like he wanted such a thing to be true. He smiled, clearly pleased with any praise his mother might give him. He patted her belly gingerly, sometimes looking like he was afraid to touch her, but also like he was drawn to do so.

"I don't think I've grown very much," he said, "but I think the baby might have."

"The baby has absolutely grown this week," Jean-Luc offered. "You'll find that your little sister's kicks have much more intention behind them, now, than they had even a week ago. Of course, your mother still has to tell me where to look for them."

Beverly smiled and her cheeks pinkened a little.

"How's Nana?" She asked.

"Fine," Wesley said. "She's back at the house. She wanted to come with me, but Mrs. MacIntosh came to visit. I told her you wouldn't mind me just meeting you here and bringing you back to the house, so she could finish with her friend."

"You did absolutely the right thing," Beverly said, affectionately smoothing Wesley's clothing in a way that probably made him at least a little annoyed, but he allowed the affection. "Now—what I want to know is where is your friend?"

Wesley looked to Jean-Luc like he might somehow rescue him. Jean-Luc cleared his throat.

"I believe what your mother is trying to ask is whether or not there was more motivation for your prolonged visit to the colony that extends beyond your affections for your great grandmother," Jean-Luc offered.

Wesley's face reddened so entirely that the very tips of his ears reflected his embarrassment. Jean-Luc felt his own face grow warm in solidarity, if nothing else.

Wesley looked at Beverly. She was simply smiling and waiting patiently.

"Mom—I really did want to visit Nana," Wesley said.

"Oh—I'm sure you did," Beverly said. "And I'm certain that you've been a very big help to Nana. But, Wesley, if there's some other person you might be visiting, I'd like to know about it, that's all. We're going to be here for a week. I'll ask you why you want to leave the house, which I'm sure you'll want to do, and I would like to think you wouldn't be lying to me."

Wesley looked at Jean-Luc again. Jean-Luc had not realized that they would begin to strengthen their relationship here and in this way, but it seemed that was how the pieces were falling into place.

"Beverly—perhaps Wesley is not quite ready to disclose his…interests. I think you might recall that, sometimes, we need time to process the things that we're feeling and experiencing."

Beverly's face fell, but she nodded.

"Fine," she said. "I just hope that…you know that I'll support you, Wesley, and I won't judge you. I just don't want to be excluded from your life. If you're happy, I'm happy. I want to share that happiness with you."

Wesley shifted uncomfortably.

"Her name is Emily," Wesley said. "And—we met, actually, through one of the Starfleet Academy projects I was working on. We just started talking, and when I found out she lived on Caldos…"

Beverly smiled.

"Do we get to meet Emily?" She asked.

Wesley looked around. Beverly and Jean-Luc scanned the area, too, though neither of them knew what Emily might look like. Wesley looked back with a furrowed brow.

"I told her that I was waiting on you," Wesley said. "I told her that…I wanted to introduce you, but you'd want to get settled in and spend some time with Nana. I'm sure she already went home."

"We'll be here for a week," Beverly offered. "Unless, of course, you don't want to introduce me to Emily."

"Of course, I'll introduce you to Emily, Mom," Wesley said.

"Maybe we could have her over for dinner?" Beverly offered.

Wesley considered that and actually seemed to find it at least a little pleasing. He nodded and smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll let her know."

"Great," Beverly said.

"Shall we start for your Nana's house before she becomes alarmed at our tardiness?" Jean-Luc asked.

"We should start for Nana's because I haven't been to the restroom since we left the Château," Beverly said with a laugh.

"Should we stop at a public building?" Jean-Luc asked. He already knew his wife's bladder was not what it had once been. Their daughter, from what he understood, had something of a habit of fashioning her mother's bladder into something of a trampoline and, when she did that, Beverly seemed to frequently excuse herself to find the nearest bathroom. Making her wait too long could make her miserable and at least a little desperate.

Beverly smiled at him.

"I'll be fine until we reach Nana's," she assured him.

"Here—I've got this. Let me carry your bag," Wesley said. He reached a hand out for Beverly's bag. Though Beverly made it something of a habit to argue with Jean-Luc when he wanted to carry her things, she didn't seem to have the slightest inclination to argue with Wesley. She handed over her bag without a moment's hesitation and fawned a little over the chivalry of her son and his desire to carry something for his mother.

Jean-Luc told himself that she was only doing so because she wanted to build up Wesley's ego, reinforce his desire to do polite things for others, and to possibly allow him to impress Emily if she were, by some chance, lurking nearby where they couldn't see her.

Jean-Luc took up his own bag and walked beside Beverly, his hand barely resting on her lower back. Wesley walked in front of them by a few steps, but Jean-Luc allowed Beverly to set the pace for them, just as he'd let her do while they'd walked from the Château to the village.

"You haven't told your Nana anything about all the news we're bringing with us, have you Wesley?" Jean-Luc asked as they walked.

Wesley slowed his steps and looked over his shoulder at Jean-Luc as they continued. He smiled.

"No, sir," he said. "I promised I wouldn't, and I haven't said anything."

"Has Nana expressed any curiosity?" Beverly asked, clearly amused.

"Oh, yeah," Wesley said, laughing to himself. "She's hardly stopped asking me questions since I got here. She wanted to know where you were, and even though I told her you were in France, with your friend, just like you said…she's driven me crazy. She's wanted to know why France, and who is your friend, and what kind of friend, exactly, you've been travelling with. It's been pretty much non-stop."

"And you never told?" Jean-Luc pressed, teasing Wesley.

"Not even a word, Captain," Wesley said.

"Jean-Luc, please," Jean-Luc said. He saw Wesley blanche. He wasn't sure if it was actually over calling him Jean-Luc, or if it was over feeling reprimanded or corrected. Jean-Luc made sure to soften his tone as much as he could, bearing in mind how he might talk to Beverly if, like she'd been since their little one had heightened her emotions, she looked on the verge of weeping over something. "Wesley—I'm your step-father now. Not to mention that I counted your father as one of my best friends. You and I are family now. If we're not on the bridge, or in some other official Starfleet situation, I think it's best if you refer to me as Jean-Luc. And, of course, I will call you Wesley when it is not required that I call you by your title."

Wesley seemed to consider the proposal in silence for a moment.

"Yes, sir," he said sincerely. "Jean-Luc," he added, though Jean-Luc noticed that his face took on the quality of someone who had just tasted something that they could not yet identify as pleasing or disgusting to their palate.

"It will take time, I imagine," Jean-Luc offered. "But we have that, at least for as long as it's granted to us all."

Wesley smiled and nodded.

"I didn't tell Nana anything, though," Wesley assured him, returning to the conversation, but stepping around his original faux-pas. "It's been really kind of funny. She keeps getting mad about it, but I keep telling her that all these questions are for Mom, not for me."

"Do you think she suspects anything?" Beverly asked.

"She suspects a lot," Wesley said. "Not about the baby, I don't think…and maybe not about the whole marriage and all. But, she's really suspicious about the whole trip to France and the fact that you're bringing a friend with you. I think she knows it's a man."

"But you doubt that she knows it's Jean-Luc," Beverly said.

"She hasn't mentioned any names," Wesley said. He furrowed his brow and turned, half walking backwards. "Does she know…Jean-Luc?"

Beverly smiled and stopped walking. Jean-Luc stopped when she stopped, his fingertips still gently touching the small of her back. Wesley stopped a second later and turned to face the both of them.

"She didn't meet Jean-Luc," Beverly said, "but she certainly heard of him. From me and from Jack. Wes—you have to understand that my history with Jean-Luc…"

"Goes back all the way to when you were dating dad," Wesley said. He nodded his head. "I know. That's why…I'm glad you're happy together."

Jean-Luc felt an exhilaration of sorts at Wesley's unabashed approval. He only hoped that Felisa Howard would feel the same way about him. He expressed as much.

"I only hope your Nana feels the same," Jean-Luc admitted. "Beverly assures me that she's going to adore me. However, I can't help but be concerned that she might think poorly of me as a man who would marry his best friend's widow. A captain who would marry a member of his crew—which is arguably an abuse of power."

"It's not as if you forced me into this relationship against my will, Jean-Luc," Beverly offered.

Jean-Luc nodded his understanding.

"But I'm coming to her as a man who has married her granddaughter in secret, at least without telling her of the marriage. I've—impregnated you, as well, and she's likely to ask which came first."

"Nana wouldn't judge," Beverly said. "And—if she did…it wouldn't matter to me, Jean-Luc."

"And yet, she is your only living relative besides Wesley," Jean-Luc said. "You understand how desperately I might hope to have her approval."

Jean-Luc had not fully intended to make such a confession in front of Wesley. Still, he had chosen to do so because, as he'd told Wesley, they were family now. Sometimes, allowing oneself to be seen in an uncomfortable and vulnerable position was a good way to strengthen otherwise tenuous bonds. And, in fact, it was Wesley's turn to look at him with some empathy, much like Jean-Luc had used when Beverly had been probing for information about Emily.

"She's going to like you because you make Mom really happy," Wesley said sincerely. "It's been a long time since…since Mom's been happy like she is now. And—what's not to love about my little sister?"

Jean-Luc was surprised at how moved he actually felt. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, put on a smile to offer thanks to Wesley, and nodded at him.

"What's not to love, indeed?" He said. Wesley smiled.

"The house is just over the hill," Wesley pointed out, making it clear to Jean-Luc why Beverly had chosen to stop. She wasn't so tired that she had to rest. Rather, she'd stopped to give them that last moment of privacy, as a family unit, before they topped the hill and, presumably, came face-to-face with Felisa Howard.

"Thank you, Wesley," Jean-Luc said. Luckily, Wesley didn't ask him for what he meant the thanks. Instead, he simply smiled at him, again, and nodded his head.

"You're welcome," he said. "Jean-Luc," he added.

Jean-Luc laughed to himself.

"It's beginning to sound more natural," he offered. "Very much as it should. Come now—we mustn't make your mother suffer too much longer. If you study her carefully enough, you'll see that she appears quite composed, but there are subtle signs that she's just before breaking off into a full tilt for the house, bypassing your Nana entirely, and running to the restroom—leaving us to fend for ourselves."

Beverly laughed, but she did start walking with Jean-Luc's gentle urging as he pressed his fingertips into her back.

"If you make me laugh too much, Jean-Luc, we're both going to be sorry," she said, putting a little playful warning to her tone.

"My apologies," Jean-Luc said. "I will do nothing more to jeopardize your Nana's first impression of me."

Beverly stepped to the side, leaning into him a little as they walked, covering the last the few feet. He slipped an arm over her shoulder, walking comfortably with her. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her face, dropping back only a step or two as he watched Wesley, walking ahead of them both, reach what must be the gate to the house.

"She's going to love you," Beverly promised him quietly. "And even if she didn't, Jean-Luc? It wouldn't change how much I love you for even a second."