He had no real plan going forward, no plan to keep her and Jack with him. He was operating completely on instinct moving from one moment to the next reacting constantly to a very fluid situation. One thing he had planned was keeping Beverly and his son off of Starfleet's radar.
"I thought…. So, we're definitely not going to Starfleet headquarters? You implied we were and then later… you indicated that you'd rather not involve Starfleet. Which is it?" Beverly was sitting in the copilot seat in the shuttle Jean-Luc had originally hired to take him to Da'al less than three weeks and what seemed a lifetime ago.
They had bid an emotional goodbye to Will, Deanna and Thad in the Titan's shuttle bay. Deanna and Beverly had parted tearfully and there was an air of melancholy about both boys. Neither had had many friends in their short lives and they had no idea when they'd see each other next.
Jean-Luc had been very touched when Will had shaken his hand murmuring low enough not to be overheard, "Anything you need Jean-Luc. Anything she or Jack needs. You know where we are. We want to help. She belongs to us, too."
He'd had to close his eyes momentarily to control his emotions enough to answer him. "Thank you Will. For everything."
"We're family." The signature Riker grin had an answering smile spreading across his face as well as Will clasped his shoulder.
He now looked at Beverly at the console beside him and glanced back at Jack who was watching something on a PADD. They'd disembarked from the Titan before the ship had reached Earth. It was better that way all around.
"We were going to headquarters. We can still if you'd prefer… It's just, and Deanna agrees, that it would be better if you recovered some if not all of your memory beforehand." She looked at him questioningly.
"Why?" And this too was typical Beverly, he sighed. She had to have all of the information and would not settle for less.
"Beverly, it would be more… prudent. I don't want to expose you to a potential interrogation by Starfleet officials when you cannot answer their questions. There is no point. Also, there is still a question mark surrounding your disappearance. There could have been motives involving Starfleet that we don't yet know about."
She looked startled and apprehensive at this. "Is that likely?"
"I highly doubt it, but why tempt fate?"
She thought that given his resignation, that he might not trust Starfleet to treat her fairly, even if it was obvious that she had no answers to give them. He did have a point, she decided. Did she really want to expose herself and her son to the Starfleet machine with its interrogations and possible consequences without even knowing why she'd made the decisions she had?
"Okay." She knew on a certain level that she was placing a great deal of trust in him after only having met less than two weeks ago. Since their discussion several days previously she felt a great deal more relaxed with him and intuitively understood that if he were holding something back, that it was nothing that would harm her and Jack.
She hadn't had any more flashbacks or partial restoration of her memory, but the memory that she'd relived while on board the Titan had left her an impression of them.
Jean-Luc had later told her that the mind meld he'd undergone had happened years before they'd been together in any sense of the word. They had been friends, just as he'd told her on that first night on the shuttle, best friends. She could feel it.
How she could know that she would and had trusted this man implicitly, with her life, with her safety, eventually with her heart… she didn't know. She understood intellectually that things had gone wrong between them romantically, but she had no doubt that she had continued to trust him. And so, she would now, with her life and that of her son.
She would only have to hope that he had become more mindful of others' hearts since they had parted, because without a doubt he had captured her son's. Whenever father and son were together Jack was never more than two steps behind him, something which had surprised Jean-Luc on several occasions when he'd turned to find Jack in his path. He was, however, gradually getting used to it.
Ever alert and aware of any changes in her son, she'd begun to notice Jack adopting some of Jean-Luc's mannerisms. Just two days ago Jack and Jean-Luc had been leaving the cabin aboard the Titan to meet Will and Thad in the holodeck. Jean-Luc, she'd already noted, had a habit of smoothing out then tugging down any top or tunic he was wearing, but she'd never seen Jack do anything of the sort.
She'd buried her face in her hand to hide her smile as they'd both stood up from the table, Jean-Luc tugging his tunic into place and in an almost choreographed move, Jack doing the same, tugging his little shirt down.
They'd turned towards the door, Jack slipping his hand into Jean Luc's just before the door sensor engaged and keeping it firmly in place as they'd exited their quarters. After they'd departed, she'd sat at the table giggling until she was forced to wipe tears from her eyes.
She didn't think she'd ever seen anything more adorable, but it was that fact that Jean-Luc was oblivious, had absolutely no idea Jack was doing it, that much sweeter. Even thinking of it now brought a smile to her face, a fact which didn't escape the notice of the man at her side.
"What?"
"Nothing." Her smile softened.
"It's going to be fine."
"I know. I… I trust you…". He looked back at her solemnly.
"Then I shall do everything in my power to prove to you that your faith has been well placed."
"I kept meaning to ask. The vineyard. Is there… Do you live there alone?"
"Before coming to search for you on Da'al, yes. However, I arranged for caretakers while I was on the ship, a husband and wife, to supervise and monitor things. I didn't know how long we'd be away."
"And are they staying on or…" It wasn't that she was afraid to be alone with him, but by his descriptions the château had no close neighbours, so it might be nice to have someone other than the day labourers close by.
"They'll be staying. For how long is yet to be determined." She nodded at him.
She wasn't sure exactly what she was feeling, most likely a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. She would like this first step to be over as quickly as possible for Jack and for herself. They were used to routine and the last week and a half had been anything but.
"Jack? Clean up your snack back there and buckle in, ok. We're almost there."
"Ok, Mom."
—
Something was wrong. Everyone in the yard could sense it. While landing the shuttle he could just make out Laris and Zhaban at the door in the rear of the château. When he'd exited the vehicle Picard had turned to help Jack and Beverly with their bags only to find Laris approaching with a friendly smile to offer the same.
"Can I help you with your...?" Laris reached for the bag in Jack's hand while she posed the question and was startled back a pace by Beverly's reaction.
Beverly, whose hands hadn't left Jack's shoulders since they'd exited the shuttle, pulled him abruptly back against her body, turning him protectively around to face her as she did so.
Everything stopped and no one moved.
"Beverly?" Jean-Luc was looking at her with concern and partially concealed alarm on his face.
Laris, meanwhile, had backed up a step to her former position beside her husband. She turned to address Jean-Luc.
"We'll go set out some refreshments. You must have already had a busy morning." With a look at her husband the pair turned back to the château.
"Who are they?"
"Romulan refugees…. They worked with me during the attempted resettlement. They've nowhere else to go so they'll be staying for a while. They've agreed to help me run things, I suppose you could say…" He could see that she was really only half listening to him, her upset clearly written on her face and telegraphed by her tense, rigid posture.
"Beverly… It's alright. I promise. I've known Laris and Zhaban for several years and I assure you…"
"I know." Her lips were tightly compressed. "I hope I didn't… that they weren't offended. I should probably go and…". But she didn't look like she wanted to go and do anything. She looked like she wanted to pick Jack up and run in the opposite direction of the château.
"It's silly really." Her voice was clipped and strained. He looked at her, really looked and realised that she was fighting some sort of internal struggle that he could neither see nor fathom.
"It's not silly."
"I'll be alright. Jack, pick up your bag. Let's go inside and see this new room of yours."
Jack had been silently following the conversation, not really understanding what was going on, but grasping, instinctively, that someone or something had upset his mother.
"Mom… Are you ok?"
"Yes, baby. I'm ok." She ruffled his hair reassuringly, but the look on his face was anything but reassured. He grasped his mother's hand, knowing somehow that she'd be comforted by it.
Jean-Luc was still watching the pair quietly. He had observed the body language and the subtle shift in stance, finally Jack's hand in Beverly's, his little fingers giving hers a squeeze.
It was as if there was a magic circle around them and inside it there were no words, no explanations required. They intuited each other. He had often in his life felt an outsider, been an outsider. Never before, however, had he so desperately wished to be granted entry. He wished nothing more than to have that circle extended to accommodate three.
As he turned to lead them towards the château, he silently counselled himself to be patient. He would eventually have what he sought. The alternative was untenable.
Six Weeks Later…
"Jean-Luc says I can have a different colour."
"But I thought you liked the blue?"
"I do, but he says if I want." Jack was lounging on his belly on the kitchen floor as his mother flipped through a very old cookbook written in French which, surprisingly enough, she found that she could read. When she shared her shocking discovery with Jean-Luc he'd just smiled at her sadly.
He didn't tell her until she pressed him later on that when they'd spent time at the château together, she'd experimented with the old recipe book, viewing deciphering the language and attempting to get a replicator recreation just right, a satisfying challenge.
She could hear Jack in the background telling her about his choices for a new colour to paint his room. Their first night at the château Jack had spent the night with his mother, in her room. After a trip to the attic with Jean-Luc to unearth what had turned out to be a treasure trove of Jean-Luc's boyhood things, the excitement of sleeping in his own room, in his father's old bed, had been too much.
Father and son had spent the rest of that first week pulling out and examining model starships, posters, awards…. And with each new treasure came, of course, a story from Jean-Luc's childhood. Beverly had been unable to resist sitting with them, listening to the sound of his voice and learning about this man she barely knew but who had fathered her son.
Her son was rapt, absorbing every detail, every nuance and she again could see how very starved he'd been for male influence in his life. That had been one of the deciding factors when she'd agreed to move in with Jentar, and although she'd of course never told him that, she thought that he'd sensed it.
They'd taken to eating their meals with Laris and Zhaban in the kitchen and even though Beverly still felt uneasy around the couple, she couldn't deny that they were brilliant with her son. It helped that Jack had taken so quickly to them as well.
After sitting down and analyzing it, she had to admit that she really couldn't explain it, her reaction to the couple. She felt that perhaps it was leftover emotional residue from living on Da'al. The Da'al had not welcomed outsiders in general and Romulans in particular. Her unease was not at all based in reality or fact, instead either feeding off of or springing forth from that same fear and panic that she'd felt to a more or less degree since she'd been woken from her coma on Da'al.
There was absolutely nothing she could point to specifically, in either Laris or Zhaban and she couldn't explain why, but it didn't feel personal. Thankfully, as the weeks passed, she was becoming more used to their presence, although she could not honestly say that she was completely at ease. However, if Jean-Luc trusted them, then so would she, because she was coming to trust him implicitly.
"I might like red though. Jean-Luc has red uniforms…. He showed me…"
She was only half listening to Jack, her mind tuning into and out of the conversation seemingly at random. Jack was absently playing with a game token he'd taken from one of the old board games they'd discovered amongst the attic treasure.
She'd not really had any real improvement in terms of her memory loss since arriving at the château, and she was starting to despair, thinking that perhaps her memory would never return. She'd had vague emotions rise to the surface, brought about by a certain smell, or a certain food or piece of music, but…. The only thing close to a breakthrough was when Jack had hauled the board game out after supper one night.
"Oh, I used to love this one!" On her left she vaguely saw Jean-Luc eyeing her strangely as she lifted the lid off of the box and began sorting and distributing the pieces.
"Beverly, how did you...?" Slowly her hands came to a standstill hovering over the game pieces now neatly placed around the board. Her eyes flared wide as she then withdrew her hands and inhaled sharply.
"I… I have no idea. I just… *knew.*"
Since then, nothing. She'd spent one morning flipping through a photo album that Jean-Luc had pointed out to her the day that they'd arrived. The pictures inside were all, he explained, from the Enterprise D.
He'd come into the salon and seen her with the album in her lap and had sat himself close beside her so that they could both hold one edge of the book. He had her flip to the beginning of the album so that he could walk her through each page.
Half of her mind hadn't even been on the album though. Instead, it had been thoroughly distracted by the feel of his hip and thigh pressed up against hers, by his hand brushing up against her fingers as he pointed out Geordi, the Chief Engineer and Worf his head of security and finally her son.
Her hand had flown to her mouth as she'd taken in the handsome young man in an ensign's uniform. The flare of pride that rose up in her was familiar. It was the same feeling she experienced when Jack learned something new or mastered something difficult.
She'd had tears in her eyes when she'd turned to look into his and he gently removed her hand from where it hovered over her mouth covering her lopsided smile. Turning it over he gently placed a kiss on her palm then clasping it firmly in his, brought it to his thigh and held it there while they flipped through the remainder of the album.
Other than that moment, he hadn't touched her or tried to kiss her really, not since they'd arrived. He did kiss her softly on the cheek each evening, and when he pulled back there was always something….
She told herself that she shouldn't be thinking about him that way. She was appalled at the way Jentar, the memory of him, his touch, taste, voice, all seemed so distant now…. But when Jean-Luc was in a room with her she was drawn to him automatically, almost against her will it seemed. She couldn't help it. His physical presence, his scent, the sound of his voice all…
"Mom…! Mooooom!"
"What? What is it, Jack?"
"I said, can we?"
"Can we what?"
"Mom! Can we get ice cream like you promised?"
—
He was in his study going through the small backlog of requisition receipts and notes left for him by the man he employed to run the vineyard when he heard Beverly's voice from the kitchen.
"Why don't you go ask your father?
"Ok." Jean-Luc could hear Jack's swift little steps before he saw him poke his head around the edge of the doorway.
"Dad?"
For weeks he had been turning it over in his mind, dissecting it, trying out and rejecting different ways to broach the subject of what his son was to call him and…. and in the end, it had been as easy as that. There had been no need to discuss anything. As simple as…. "Go ask your father."
No, he thought. Beverly wasn't that careless, that thoughtless. She had deliberately chosen her words, whether it was a sort of encouragement or permission to their son he couldn't specify, but… it was definitely something she would do, the old Beverly, his Beverly…
Startled when Jack leaned on the arm of his desk chair, pushing his small face close to his own, Picard realised that the boy had asked him something and was now awaiting an answer.
"Sorry, Jack. What did you say?"
"I said, can we go for ice cream? You said…"
"What...? Oh… yes. Yes, of course." There was a small ice cream shop whose claim to fame in the area was that it still used traditional methods to make their in-house ice cream flavours as well as the waffle cones they were served in. It was mainly for the tourists, but…. Now that he was thinking about it, the crêperie in town probably still did the same.
He'd mentioned it in passing to Jack and Beverly during their first few days at the château. Jack, of course, hadn't forgotten and had been wheedling to go ever since. Jean-Luc hadn't been certain if Beverly was comfortable venturing beyond the confines of the vineyard and so up until now, he'd demurred.
He also hadn't been outside the vineyard in the months after his resignation, unable to face the people, the crowds… but his son wanted to go into the town for ice cream and it seemed Beverly was in agreement… and so that was what they would do.
"So, we can go?" Jack's face was lit up in anticipation and he felt an answering smile tug at his lips.
"Of course we can."
—-
They were strolling down main street away from the grand place, Jean-Luc busy trying to contain the drips of ice cream from escaping and running down his fingers. Jack, unable to help himself, had stopped at almost every store front to peer inside.
As Jack was looking curiously into a window advertising small household servos, a floor cleaner zooming around the raised display case floor, Picard felt fingers brush against his bottom lip and turned startled eyes forward to find Beverly swiping a thumb again across his bottom lip. He'd seen her do the same for Jack only minutes ago and it warmed him inside to be included in the little intimacies of their shared family circle.
"We should have gotten the cups instead… or at least grabbed some nap…"
She trailed off as she suddenly noticed that he was staring at her intently and she realised exactly what she had been doing.
"I…" She got no further as, without a single thought, he leaned over, capturing her lips with his, running his tongue over her bottom lip, cleaning off the sticky ice cream that had been clinging there.
He was just congratulating himself on his restraint, preparing to pull back, when he felt her mouth open beneath his lips. His lips parted in surprise and her tongue dipped inside for a brief foray, tangling with his.
He raised his free hand and pushed it through her hair to cup her nape, turning her head slightly on an angle devouring her lips over and over, his tongue delving inside her mouth, the taste of her mixed with the sweetness of the ice cream was sending him over the edge. Nothing else existed.
He felt a tug on his shirt. He pulled back, releasing her lips with a soft pop. When he had cleared his head enough to look down, he found Jack grinning up at him.
"There… there was ice cream…". He found himself absurdly trying to explain to his five-year-old why he'd been necking with his mother in full view…. Dear God, they'd been making out like teenagers in full view of passersby….
Jack tucked his hand in his father's, his small fingers curling around Picard's. It would seem that, for once, he wasn't to be peppered with his son's incessant inquiries. The boy probably figured his mother was embarrassed enough…. Beverly…. He looked over to find her smiling at him, slightly embarrassed perhaps, but her eyes were full of playful mirth.
Jack tugged on his hand. "Are we going home now?"
"Yes…. Yes, we are. " He replied, smiling absentmindedly and thinking to himself that they didn't have far to go…. He was already there.