AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.
I must admit that there will be some darker elements to this one in places, as you've already probably noticed, but it's also meant to have plenty of light elements. That's just who I am, and I'm sorry if you don't love that in a story, but I did want to warn you that I am simply not going to change my spots entirely—not ever. LOL
I do hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
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"Here, Papa," Beverly said. "Come—sit and hold your son." She laughed quietly. "And stop wearing out the floor, Jean-Luc. With the state of things, we'll have to replace it ourselves if you wear a hole straight through it."
Jean-Luc stopped short. He turned and looked at Beverly with a creased brow and a wrinkled forehead. It was evident that he hadn't been fully aware of the many miles he'd been putting on the floor in the bedroom.
His expression softened as he fully became aware of his surroundings and remembered, perhaps, that Beverly was not the enemy.
As far as Beverly was concerned, nobody here was the enemy. In fact, she felt more relaxed than she'd been in a very long time, and she honestly felt wonderful. She felt safe, as though there was something very nearly intoxicating in the air that helped to alleviate any and all of her worries. Or, even if they weren't eliminated entirely, because that was nearly impossible, they were soothed and calmed until they were easy to ignore.
"William…" Jean-Luc said.
"Is ready for his papa to settle down," Beverly said. "He's had a wonderful little sponge bath. He's warm and comfortable. He's eaten until his little tummy is full. I would say that he's ready to spend some quality time cuddling with you. If you want to hold him, that is. I understand you're probably doing important things, Jean-Luc, with all that pacing and…growling."
"I never growled," he said, a touch sharply.
Beverly laughed to herself.
"You're growling now," she offered.
He seemed to consider it. He huffed—this time not quite growling—and then the huff turned into a sigh. His shoulders rolled forward. Beverly didn't point out to him that he'd likely exhausted himself with all the frustration he'd been rolling around so much during the evening.
"William," he said, affection softening his tone of voice. "Of course…of course, I would like to hold him."
Beverly made the transfer of the baby to Jean-Luc's arms, and she saw the expression on his face shift. The smile that played at his lips had been mostly reserved for William throughout the entire day.
"Sit with him," Beverly said, gesturing toward the rocking chair that had been moved into the bedroom. "He'll like if you put some of that nervous energy into rocking him. Just—temper it a bit. Rock gently."
"Of course," Jean-Luc said. "Gently. We must do all things gently. He is a baby, after all."
"And a brand-new one," Beverly said.
She sighed, herself, and sank back into the comfortable pillows. She closed her eyes. Her whole body swam a bit with fatigue, but she didn't mind it. At least, she felt safe enough to rest when she was ready to do so—and when William allowed.
"What are we doing, Beverly?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly hummed at him. She made the conscious decision to pretend that she didn't know to what he was referring. It was the same thing that he'd talked about all day, though, every time that he could get someone to listen. She was sure of that.
She simply didn't want to entertain it any longer.
"We are—trying to get William to relax," Beverly said. "Because we want him to rest. His mother would very much like to rest, as well. So—I am resting here, while you perform your fatherly duties and rock your son to sleep."
"I mean overall," Jean-Luc said. "What are we doing here…now?"
"I suppose that I know what you meant," Beverly breathed out. She opened her eyes, straightened herself up in the bed a bit more to be able to pay him the attention that he clearly needed, and frowned at him. "And I suppose you know that I knew all along, too, Jean-Luc."
"Beverly—inviting them to stay for dinner was one thing. Inviting them to stay indefinitely was another thing, entirely."
"It wasn't me who invited them," Beverly said. "It was you, if I remember correctly."
"Because I felt pressured by you and Laris to extend the invitation," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly laughed to herself.
"And what harm will it do?" Beverly asked.
"If you hadn't noticed, she is pregnant," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly hummed.
"Must be something in the water," she said. Jean-Luc didn't look wholly amused, but Beverly didn't really care. The truth of the matter was that he would calm down about everything. He simply had to get over the fact that something had happened outside of his control—at least to some degree.
"What happens if they stay long enough that the babies are born?" Jean-Luc asked.
"That might be for the best," Beverly said. "Jean-Luc—the world out there is not safe. If they leave here, they're practically fugitives of a sort. Odo isn't safe, and neither are those babies. From what I can tell, they'll be wanted by more than one faction for more than one reason. It sounds like you really can't know who to trust. If they leave now, they're either taking refuge on a conquered and occupied planet, or they're keeping on the move constantly. Lwaxana is going to deliver twins. Without us? Odo is going to have to try to handle it himself. And…besides…nobody knows what to expect from Changeling babies—or even hybrid Changeling babies."
"All the more reason that I'm not certain that having them in our home is a good idea."
"I know Lwaxana has a way of sometimes rubbing you wrong," Beverly said.
"Do you think that my concern is only for my personal comfort, since Lwaxana is given to making inappropriate comments about what she pretends that I'm thinking?"
Beverly laughed.
"Admit it, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "She does a wonderful job of getting under your skin."
He frowned at her, but he didn't argue long.
"She certainly knows how to push my buttons," Jean-Luc admitted.
"And I'll tell you exactly what I would tell Wesley. If you stop responding so dramatically, she'll likely lose interest. Besides—she hasn't given you much of a hard time since she's been here."
There was a quiet huff from Jean-Luc, but little else for a moment. He pretended to be focused on William who, Bevelry was pretty sure, was already sleeping. Still, Beverly didn't believe that a baby could be spoiled, in any way, by being held and loved. All that would come from spending extra time sleeping in his father's arms while Jean-Luc rocked the chair gently with his feet, was that William would feel more safe and secure, and he would come to love and trust his father even more.
Beverly hoped he would go on rocking the boy for some time.
Jean-Luc seemed to calm some as he rocked the baby.
"I suppose you're right," Jean-Luc said. "She hasn't been as difficult as she has been in the past."
"She's exhausted," Beverly said. "Utterly exhausted. You can feel it, if you put down your guard a little. Besides, she's married, and she's focused on her family. I know it's probably going to break your heart, Jean-Luc, but it's entirely possible that you're just not that important to her anymore—at least, not like you used to be."
"And you invited Deanna," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly smiled to herself.
"And Will," she said. "Would you have rather I had told them that they couldn't come?"
"Their planet is safe and sheltered," Jean-Luc said. "You heard Lwaxana say that Laris had done everything she could to render it virtually a blindspot. She's done the same for the Château. We essentially don't exist, so neither do they."
"But their planet is close to Betazed," Beverly said. "Betazed is a planet that's already occupied, and we all know that the area is of tactical importance. It's only a matter of time before they find the planet, even without locating it on their sensors."
Jean-Luc laughed quietly.
"Then—are they to stay here, too?" He asked.
"Deanna hasn't seen her mother. She hasn't seen her little brother. Lwaxana hasn't been able to see her, either. She's afraid that they might follow her and Odo, if she tries to go to the planet to be with Deanna. Would it be so terrible, Jean-Luc, if they were to stay?"
"For how long?" Jean-Luc asked. "Beverly—I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm not. But Lwaxana brought a toddler with her."
"Veta is precious!" Beverly said, smiling. "Oh—he's so adorable. He's very smart for his age, too."
"Be that as it may," Jean-Luc said, "he's a toddler."
"Are you afraid of toddlers, Jean-Luc?" Beverly teased.
"If Lwaxana's twins are born, Beverly, then…we don't know what we'll be getting ourselves into. There's no telling what Changeling babies will be like, or even if their parents will be able to control them. Not even Odo, himself, knows what to expect."
"We will figure it out," Beverly said. "Jean-Luc—Changelings or not, they will be infants. There are quite a few adults in this equation—each of which brings a great deal of varying knowledge and differing experiences to the table. I believe we'll be able to handle it. They don't outnumber us."
"Not yet," Jean-Luc said, some humor coming to his voice. "But how long that lasts remains to be seen. If Deanna and Will come, and they have a child that's born here…Beverly…we'll soon be overrun."
Beverly could tell, now, that there was enough humor mixed into Jean-Luc's words to show that he was joking. He wasn't entirely joking, of course, and he did have his concerns about what they were facing at the moment, but he wasn't as concerned as he had been before he'd started laying out his worries.
Sometimes, simply saying allowed what one feared was a good way to put it in perspective and to come to realize that it wasn't as truly harrowing as one might have originally thought.
"I know it may seem like the worst thing to you, Jean-Luc, but I can imagine greater horrors than a house full of loved ones and, especially, little ones."
He frowned.
"You have lived greater horrors," he said. "And I have been…dismissive of that. Everyone has. That's another concern that I have. William needs our love and attention. You need time to rest and to recuperate. You need time to heal from everything that you've been through."
Jean-Luc was quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on the face of their sleeping son. Beverly didn't interrupt him. There was time. They had time. In fact, if they were essentially hiding out here until there was some resolution to the conflict that seemed to be happening all around them—everyone involved in that conflict oblivious to their existence in this bubble of peace and tranquility that Laris had constructed with Romulan intelligence—then they had nothing but time for the foreseeable future.
The thought, truly, brought Beverly more peace than she recognized it probably should.
When Jean-Luc was ready to speak again, he did so. He brought his eyes up from William's face, and he made eye contact with Beverly. She didn't try to break the established eye contact anymore than she'd tried to break the silence he'd needed before.
"You and I need time," Jean-Luc said. "We need…time together to heal. To talk about everything that we didn't talk about before—everything that got us here."
Beverly smiled at him.
"We have time," she said. "We have so much time."
"But the proverbial cup runneth over as the Château threatens to be overrun," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly hummed.
"And yet, I have rested as much as I've wanted today," Beverly said. "I haven't prepared a bite to eat, and I haven't washed a plate. When I came in here, my clothes were laid out for after my shower, and clean linens were waiting for me. My bed was fresh for me. Every time I've felt like…I was overwhelmed, and my mind got to be a bit too…a bit too dark, Jean-Luc? There has been someone there, today, to hear me…or even just to sit in the darkness with me for a moment." She smiled and shrugged. "I have felt loved and supported—and surrounded by that from every side. And every time I've needed just a moment to put William down and catch my breath, I've known that he was going directly into arms where he was safe—arms where I was confident, Jean-Luc, that he would be protected fiercely, if such a thing were necessary. If we wanted time to ourselves, I'm sure that we would be granted that. As much as we would like. We're alone now."
Jean-Luc smiled at her—just the slightest hint of a smile that turned up one corner of his mouth.
"Something in the way you say that almost makes it sound as if…you're not overly concerned with having time alone," Jean-Luc said.
"Oh—don't mistake me," Beverly said. "I always enjoy time with you. And I'm looking forward to getting to know you, Jean-Luc, as the man you are now."
"Am I so different than I was…what? Nine months ago?" He asked.
"We all are," Beverly said. She laughed. "It's been a hell of a nine months everywhere you turn."
"You may be right about that," Jean-Luc said.
"I am," Beverly said. "And—as much as I'm looking forward to time with you, Jean-Luc, and to getting to know who you've become since you've had to put down the pips—I have to admit that I'm looking forward to getting to know…someone else, too."
"Someone else…" Jean-Luc said, asking for clarification without actually having to do so.
"The walls have ears," Beverly teased.
"That's another thing," Jean-Luc said. "If we're going to have to spend the next however long it may be watching everything we think and say for the risk of telepathic probing…"
"Not Lwaxana," Beverly said. She shook her head gently. "The walls have pointed ears." When she spoke again, she raised her voice ever so slightly. "Laris—I would appreciate it if…you would come in here and truly join the conversation. I'd like it…truly." She waited a moment. "Please—I could use…some help while Jean-Luc has William."
Jean-Luc made a face at Beverly, and she held her hand up to still him.
A moment later, much like she'd expected it would, the door opened slowly.
Laris stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, quietly. Beverly didn't miss the slight shade of green that seemed to have spread over the woman's cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
Laris looked at Beverly. She smiled—just barely. Any other Romulan, and Beverly had to admit that such an expression might have been more alarming than endearing. Yet, with Laris, she couldn't help but feel some inexplicable affection—perhaps a result of knowing that the woman had saved her from further torture and, ultimately a terrible fate. She had saved her baby, too.
Beverly would never allow herself to forget that.
"I must be slipping," Laris said. "What told you that I was there?"
Beverly smiled at her and raised her eyebrows.
"Nothing at all. You didn't give yourself away."
"Then, how could you know?" Laris challenged.
Beverly shrugged in response.
"Honestly? Just…call it a hunch."