A soft beeping sounded from somewhere down the corridor, rousing him from his light doze. He couldn't think of a comparable moment when he'd been so utterly exhausted and yet so perfectly content to be so.

The years, no decades that it had taken to arrive at this very moment… Three years ago, he'd have never dreamed that any of this would be possible.

A rustling on the other side of the room drew his attention. A nurse was running a tricorder wand over Beverly's slumbering form. Noticing that her Captain had awakened, the Lieutenant straightened slightly.

"I didn't mean to wake you, Sir."

"Quite alright, Lieutenant."

Their tones were hushed, in deference not only to the lateness of the hour, but also to the two sleeping patients in the room with them, one curled up on the biobed, her red hair spilled across the pillow, the other in the bassinet to Picard's left.

He had fallen into a thin sleep with one hand resting lightly on the bed, the other hanging over the edge of the bassinet, as if he'd needed to ground himself, convince himself that this was not in fact a figment of his imagination.

He could still remember the shocking silence that had come over the living room in their quarters when she'd related the life altering news. The way she'd been so nervous, how she'd sat him down and gripped his hand as if she were about to deliver a devastating diagnosis...

They'd both assumed that, given Beverly's age, it might take time for her to fall pregnant. They'd also prepared themselves for the very real possibility that it simply might never happen for them.

The decision to deactivate their fertility inhibitors and to allow nature to take its course had involved many hours of conversation and some soul searching for both of them, but mainly Beverly. He had been the one to broach the subject, knowing it was what he wanted, but allowed that she might need time to sort through the personal demons that such a decision would no doubt force her to revisit.

It had taken no more than five seconds of astonished silence for the shock to wear off, and he'd hauled her against him, hugging her fiercely, kissing every inch of her face where it pressed up against him.

"You're happy?" She'd sounded somewhat anxious still, but what had shone through the most was the relief.

"Yes. Yes, I'm happy." His voice had been tight, the words choked with an indescribable intensity of emotions. He was going to be a father….

And so had begun months of fretful worry on his part. Poor Deanna had been forced to intervene several times. How could he enjoy his impending fatherhood when his thoughts were dominated by the certainty that something would go wrong, she argued.

Once the pregnancy had passed the six-month mark, he'd finally relaxed enough to stop hovering, to feel excited anticipation instead of fretful anxiety, to entertain conversations about nurseries and names...

And now she was here. His and Beverly's child, their daughter. He pulled the swaddling blanket away from her face, tracing her cheek and small nose with his finger.

He was… overwhelmed. He'd never thought to feel this way in any real sense. He'd been convinced that the fulfilment of those dreams had passed him by. He'd resigned himself to the likelihood that he would only ever experience a family through the memory of imaginings implanted by a thousand-year-old probe. That that would be as close as he would ever, could ever come. And now…

His rambling thoughts were interrupted by soft grunting noises and stirrings from his left. He felt his wife's hand on his arm.

"Is everything alright?" Beverly's voice was rough with sleep. "Could you bring her to me? I think we can try to get her to latch again. Perhaps hunger will win out over disinterest this time."

Picard reached into the bassinet and carefully scooped up his daughter, mindful to support her head and neck. His hands seemed so much larger than normal, when compared to the relative size of the newborn. Beverly expertly untied and pulled down the sickbay gown and once again tried to coax the baby into cooperating.

He watched silently as Beverly contemplated her daughter then inserted a finger into the corner of her mouth to gently break the suction. She then placed four fingers under her breast, her thumb on top and waited until the baby's mouth opened wide before attempting again.

After several seconds of steady suckling, Beverly relaxed, feathering her fingers through very light strawberry blond strands before smiling over at him where he was perched on the side of the bed.

She noticed his gaze riveted on the baby at her breast, the expression on his face not one she thought she'd ever seen before. She couldn't quite resist breaking the moment of peaceful quiet.

"Penny?"

"I was just thinking how perfect this all is. Enjoying the stillness. Trying to memorise the way you both look right now."

"Enjoy it while you can. I think your days of peace and tranquillity are over, Jean-Luc."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." His eyes were suddenly serious as they met and held hers. "We've had enough years of silence…."

"Agreed…". Gripping his hand tightly, she brought it to her lips and placed a soft kiss against his palm before letting her head fall back against the wall behind her.

"You know, Beverly, I don't think she has inherited a single one of my features…"

She popped an eye open and tilted her head down a bit. She looked at him consideringly.

"Well, which features would you prefer she have of yours… I mean, as much as I find your lack of hairline sexy, Jean-Luc, I don't think it would suit her…"

"Beverly…" He rolled his eyes at her good-natured teasing.

"Besides… she has your chin..."

"She does?" He perked up at that, trying to get another look at his daughter's chin then giving up when he realised her position against Beverly's breast made it impossible.

"She does. Also, a combination of our hair. Mine has always been this colour, even as a baby. Hers is really more of a shade of blonde." She opened her other eye when he remained silent and surprised a smug, proud look on his face. As she watched, the look transformed into one that was gentler, more thoughtful.

"She still needs a name…"

"She does." The suckling sound had been tapering off and now ceased altogether as the newborn disengaged. Beverly efficiently repositioned the child on her shoulder while covering her breast. She gently rubbed the tiny back, her face turning contemplative.

"You're right, she does," she repeated. "We can't keep referring to her as "the baby"… Besides, no doubt someone out there is looking to collect on the betting pool."

His only response to that was to snort, his disapproval apparent.

"It's harmless. You're their Captain, Jean-Luc. They're interested in your life."

"I know. It's just taking some time to adjust to actually having a life for them to take an interest in…"

Satisfied that her daughter had been sufficiently winded, Beverly dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. Gathering up the small bundle, she leaned forward and moved to transfer the baby into Picard's arms.

"Here, Papa." That earned her one of his rare soft smiles, the one he reserved exclusively for her, and apparently now their daughter.

She shifted forward on the bed, closing the little circle around the three of them. For a long moment they were both content to simply savour the silence as they took in their daughter. She glanced up at him and caught an apprehensive look in his eyes.

"What is it?"

"I…. What do you think of Jacqueline… for her middle name…?" Her soft smile eased the worry that had been lodged in his heart as he'd debated whether or not to voice his suggestion.

"I think it's a wonderful idea, Jean-Luc." She cupped his chin and pulled him in for a soft kiss before resting her cheek against his. "I think he'd be honoured," she whispered against his temple before pulling back to look into his eyes. He nodded, a look of understanding passing wordlessly between them.

"Since you're open to suggestions…. I know we have a list…"

"Beverly, it has over fifty names on it. We weren't that invested in any of the names on the list…"

"Well… I was thinking… What about…. And we've never talked about it...". He couldn't understand what was making her so hesitant. "Renée. I thought maybe Renée…". He swallowed hard against the emotion that name evoked in him, memories rushing forward to fill his heart with a melancholy mélange of love and sadness.

Misinterpreting his silence, she rushed to offer an explanation. "I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. I know it hasn't been that long since… and we'd have to ask Marie if… I shouldn't have said anything. It's just it's fitting, "renewal", "rebirth" like… like a promise or a... a second chance…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Pulling her more fully towards him, he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes tightly as he struggled to contain everything he was feeling in that moment.

"It's perfect, Beverly. I cannot express…. We can talk to Marie… but I think she'll agree that it's perfect." He felt her relax against him, then pulled back to look at her.

"To new beginnings then…" She returned his gentle smile with one of her own, her gaze then shifting to Renée who was nestled between them.

"To new beginnings…"