AN: Here's another piece to this one, as we explore a little of their lives as parents!
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
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Jean-Luc could tell that Beverly was feeling quite possessive of their little one. She was happy enough to share Evie with him, but when he mentioned introducing her to the crew, he noticed that Beverly had a few excuses and a few reasons to put it off "for just a little while."
He consulted Deanna while Beverly was sleeping, and Deanna assured him that Evie was a newborn, and Beverly—though she'd already been a mother once—was a new mother, again. She simply needed a little time to rest and be with her family before she wanted to share with everyone else.
She assured him that the crew would not be offended, and he'd simply promised everyone that, soon, they would all meet the newest Picard.
Wesley had met his sister. He'd humored his mother by holding her, visibly uncomfortable with the action, and then he'd found just as many reasons to stay away as Beverly had seemed to find to remain sequestered in their quarters with the infant.
Jean-Luc, for his part, started to feel a bit more confident in his role as a papa.
Beverly did most of the caring for Evie for the first two days of her life, while Jean-Luc did most of the caring for Beverly. He held his daughter every time he was prompted to do so, but mostly he brought Beverly the things she needed and followed her from room to room of their quarters, feeling happy to be in her service.
Finally, he gathered his courage up as he sat next to her on the sofa in their living area.
Beverly announced—enamored of everything that Evie did—that their daughter had soiled her diaper. She was proud of the baby girl for everything, and this was no less exciting than every other action performed by the little one.
"Allow me," Jean-Luc said, when Beverly made some move like she might rise from her spot to change the baby's diaper.
Beverly looked at him with her brow furrowed and her lips half-parted in silent protest. He reached his arms out to take Evie from her.
"But—she's dirty, Jean-Luc," Beverly said.
"I am well aware," Jean-Luc said. "And I shall help to remedy that problem, Beverly, if you'll only allow me to do so."
"I think…it's bad," Beverly offered.
Jean-Luc felt his stomach tighten slightly at the suggestion that this might, somehow, be more challenging than just a simple diaper change—of which he'd done relatively few, admittedly, since Evie's birth. Still, he was determined. He reached for Evie with a touch more insistence.
"Unless, of course, Beverly, this is about the fact that you believe me incapable?" He offered gently.
"Well…of course not, Jean-Luc…it's only…" Beverly said.
"Only?" He asked, pressing her.
"Are you sure you don't want me to do it?" She asked.
Jean-Luc smiled at her.
"My love—you are feeding her every time she requires it, and she seems to require it quite often. You have been tending to her every need. It seems only fair that, if you are always responsible for feeding her, I should have some responsibility. So—I will change Evie's diapers."
"All of them?" Beverly asked.
"At least until I must return to duty in a few days," Jean-Luc said. "Please, Beverly…let me help with our daughter."
Beverly visibly softened. She smiled at him and offered him the baby girl that was certainly starting to smell in need of his assistance. She hadn't started to fuss in earnest yet, having not yet realized she was miserable, but she began to make the first nasally sounds of warning—almost like sneezes—that usually meant she was about to show them both exactly how loud she could be about her disapproval of their parenting skills.
Jean-Luc shushed her as she was transferred fully into his arms.
"Jean-Luc…remember to wipe her from front to back," Beverly said.
"I will take good care of her," he assured Beverly. "She is in good hands with her papa."
"I know she is," Beverly said. Jean-Luc didn't point out that her expression carried at least a little bit of concern. He wasn't too bothered by her expression. After all, he felt the concern she wore on her features, and then some.
"Just relax, Beverly. Read your book. We shall be right back."
Jean-Luc carried Evie into their bedroom. Despite the fact that she had a nursery, she hadn't actually been in there other than one time when she was on a tour, of sorts, with Jean-Luc. Beverly had been sleeping, and Jean-Luc had taken Evie to see every part of their little home aboard the ship. He'd shown her the little room that was meant to be hers, fairly confident that she wouldn't sleep there for a long while. He'd told her as such, too, while he'd walked her around and waited for her to look ready for sleep.
In the bedroom, Evie had everything she needed. There was a chair for someone to comfortably rock the baby. There was a station where all her supplies were kept—along with the supplies that Beverly required for her own current needs. There was also a bassinet where Evie slept, usually with the small baby basket pulled right next to Beverly's side of the bed.
Jean-Luc balanced his daughter in one arm, doing his best to ignore her fussing, now that it was beginning to pick up a little. With his free hand, he grabbed a diaper, wipes, and one of the little blankets that Beverly often threw over the bed before changing the baby.
He tossed his supplies on the bed and spread out the little blanket before putting Evie down. At that moment, she began to truly let him know that she found him subpar as a parent.
And he frowned at the wetness and the mess on his hand and arm.
He picked Evie up, again, and turned her slightly to look at her.
"It would seem, Evie, that you have…exceeded the capacity of your diaper by a truly remarkable amount," Jean-Luc commented. "Mon Dieu. What has your mother been feeding you?"
Evie responded with another burst of disapproval.
"Fine—it's alright. Papa will simply—we'll simply change your pajamas. How's that? We'll change your diaper, and your clothing…and it would seem…you may require a bit of bathing, but…that's perfectly within Papa's abilities."
Jean-Luc wasn't sure if he told the newborn this to reassure her or to reassure himself. She, for one, seemed not at all convinced. Jean-Luc wasn't feeling wholly convinced, himself, but he was still determined.
"Jean-Luc? Is everything OK?" Beverly called.
"Fine, Beverly!" He called back. "We're…taking care of things."
"If you need me…"
"We do not require assistance," Jean-Luc said. "Relax, Beverly…we're doing just fine."
It wasn't a lie, Jean-Luc decided.
He carried Evie into the bathroom. There, he stripped her out of her soiled clothing and recycled it. He recycled the soiled diaper, too. He started the water in the sink, remembering the last time that he'd watched Beverly clean her up. He was thankful for the little "station" Beverly had created in the bathroom. At first, he'd been unsure about having what seemed like so much clutter about, but now he was glad to have everything within reach.
Jean-Luc tested the temperature of the water. Satisfied with it, he dampened one of Evie's little cloths, managed to get some of the sweet-smelling baby soap on it, and carefully used it to clean her off. When he realized that he'd accidently transferred some of her mess onto the front of his shirt, he carefully transferred the baby from arm to arm and worked his way out of his own soiled garment. He recycled that and wiped Evie down, once more, where mess from his shirt had transferred back to her and, finally, he wiped his own chest down with her rag, after she'd transferred a bit more of it back to him.
"There now," he said, feeling rather proud of himself as he wrapped her in one of the small baby towels to dry. "That was nothing—and now you are all clean."
Evie was clean, but she wasn't happy about it. Jean-Luc held her close to his chest, and she started to calm. He swayed her, gently, since she usually preferred the movement, and carried her back into the bedroom. For just a moment, he stood holding her close to his chest and rubbing her body gently through the towel, drying her off a little while she seemed soothed, perhaps, by the sound of his heartbeat.
When he felt confident, he eased her down onto the blanket he'd placed on the bed, and he used the damp baby towel to finish drying her, careful not to rub too hard or get anywhere near the little stump of her umbilical cord—something which, admittedly, terrified him far more than he was willing to let on. Beverly had mentioned it would fall off, at some point, and he very nearly prayed hourly that he would not be in attendance when such a thing happened.
Evie retained the calm she brought from her father's arms after he'd rested her on the blanket. Jean-Luc hadn't expected that. Evie often disliked being naked. She also disliked being put down. At the moment, however, she seemed tolerant of both of those conditions at once.
Jean-Luc decided not to test fate by making her wait too long.
He took several of the wipes and wiped her from front to back, as her mother had instructed, carefully lifting her bottom. He'd washed her, but he knew that not making sure she was as clean as she could be might mean a slew of problems from urinary tract infections to diaper rash, and he couldn't bear the thought of the tiny baby suffering any such malady. He decided a little extra wiping wouldn't hurt a thing.
Pleased with himself, and with Evie's continued contentedness, Jean-Luc confidently placed the diaper underneath his daughter. Then, he flipped it over upon realizing that he had placed it backward.
His hands only started to shake slightly when he began to try to position the diaper so that it would not irritate the little stump that terrified him, and to get the little plastic tabs in place. He didn't want to put the diaper so tight that it irritated Evie.
And, then, to make the job just a touch more difficult, Evie decided that she was tired of waiting for Jean-Luc to finish his job. She started to fuss, again.
"Jean-Luc?" Beverly called.
Jean-Luc jumped, almost feeling as though he were about to be caught doing something wrong. Maybe he'd taken too long. Maybe a less inept father would have completed this whole process in half the time.
"We're fine," he offered, a little more weakly than before. "We're fine," he reiterated, this time with his voice soft and low for Evie and himself. "Just a moment more…my sweet girl. That should just about do it."
He realized, now, that he needed clean clothing for Evie. He lifted her, and the diaper that he'd so carefully placed onto her little body fell off, dropping right to the floor. Jean-Luc frowned at it for half a second, and then he sighed and held his daughter to his chest, again, to try to soothe her.
"We'll just try another," he said. "And Papa will get your pajamas while we're gathering a fresh diaper."
Pressed against his chest again, Evie calmed a little. He returned to the little station and selected a fresh diaper from the small collection they kept there—refreshing the supplies when necessary. He also selected another of the comfortable pajamas that Beverly always zipped their daughter into.
And, then, he felt the warm wetness spread down the front of him.
Jean-Luc closed his eyes.
"Beverly…" he said, accepting defeat.
Beverly was there much more quickly than he'd expected, leading him to believe that his wife might have been hovering, somewhat, outside the door. He saw, on her face, that she was fighting back amusement.
"Jean-Luc…" she said.
He frowned at her. She gave him her best reassuring smile.
"Come into the bathroom," she said.
"Believe it or not," Jean-Luc said, following her in there, "we've been here once."
"Given the amount of water everywhere," she teased. "I believe it. Oh, Evie…did you get relaxed and wet Papa? Here—give me Evie. You get cleaned up, too."
"I was going to help you," Jean-Luc lamented, as he cleaned himself up. "Instead—it would seem that I've only made a greater mess." He followed Beverly into the bedroom where she was gathering the things for Evie. "I'm afraid that I'm not much of a help with her."
"It was one diaper, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "Come here."
She placed Evie back on the bed and offered Jean-Luc the diaper.
"I'm afraid that the last time I did this, the results were…less than satisfactory," Jean-Luc said.
"Practice makes perfect," Beverly said. "You said Papa would be the…the master of the diapers, while I handled the feeding, Jean-Luc. I'm holding you to that. But every master begins somewhere."
Jean-Luc accepted the diaper. He positioned it, and Beverly began directing him. Since he understood the actions necessary to properly place the diaper, the majority of her directions involved simply reassuring him that he was doing the job effectively. When she was satisfied that the diaper was on, she handed him the pajamas.
"Do you wish to test the integrity of the diaper?" He asked.
"I do not," she said, leaning and kissing the side of his face. He shivered at the sensation, surprised by how much he valued it when he'd been feeling quite unsure of himself. "Do you need help with the zipper?"
"I believe that zippers fall within my skill set," he teased, dressing the baby girl who had gone back and forth between fussing and being calm so often that she seemed to have finally given up and settled for simply waiting until her torture ended. "There now. I believe that just about does it."
He lifted Evie and kissed her face before cradling her in the crook of his arm. Beverly beamed at him.
"Perfect, Papa," she said.
"You're only trying to encourage me so that I'll continue to change the diapers," he said.
She hummed at him.
"That…and because I love you," she said. "And you're a very good papa, Jean-Luc. I want you to know that, and I want you to remember that. Few fathers—and mothers, for that matter—master everything in a few days. You've got time. And Evie and I think you're doing wonderfully."
Jean-Luc couldn't help but smile.
"Our daughter may be a touch more skeptical than you describe," he said. "However, your support is immeasurable." He leaned and kissed her, happy to taste the kiss that she offered him in return. He passed the baby over to her arms. "Take her in the living room and make up for her suffering. I'll clean up this mess."
"When you're done," Beverly offered, "you can snuggle with us and read a book to Evie."
"Isn't she a little young to understand literature?" Jean-Luc teased.
Beverly hummed.
"Perhaps, but she's never too young to understand the love she feels when spending time together," Beverly said.
"I can't wait," Jean-Luc assured her.