AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
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Jean-Luc sat, brow-furrowed, and looking stunned, for a moment.
Beverly didn't force him to say anything. She didn't even mind the silent shock. She found it, to some degree, slightly amusing. After all, she'd had her own moment of sitting stock-still, staring into space, when it had slowly dawned on her that, in fact, she was pregnant.
"Pregnant," he managed, as the shock began to subside, however slightly. His words were neither clearly a question nor a statement, and Beverly doubted that he really knew which he wanted them to be. He was, she was sure, simply musing—testing out the word on his tongue and deciding if it matched what he'd heard.
She smiled at him, swallowing back the amusement that bubbled up within her.
"Pregnant," she echoed. "Jean-Luc…" She added, softly, to draw him back to the present moment and out of the stupor of surprise.
He'd been staring just beyond her, and she saw as his eyes moved back toward her and met hers. She saw as he came fully back into himself and back into the space between them.
"A father…" He said.
"If you prefer another name, Jean-Luc," Beverly said, letting her sentence hang, and finishing it only with the physical act of raising her eyebrows.
"Yes," he said, quickly, in something of a knee-jerk response. "I mean—yes, but…"
Beverly reached out and rested her hand on Jean-Luc's leg to ground him. His eyes drifted down to her hand and then back up to her face.
For the first time, since she'd told him anything, his face changed enough to make it clear that he was truly starting to think and feel beyond various states of surprise and shock.
"Are you quite serious?" He asked, sincerely.
The very slightest hint of a smile turned up the corners of his lips. Beverly saw it and, more than her eyes, her heart saw it. Her own heart, that had begun to slow, picked up its rapid beating again. She mirrored his hint of a smile, but allowed her own to blossom more fully.
She nodded her head gently.
"I'm serious," she said. "I wouldn't joke about that, Jean-Luc. Especially since you…"
"Since I?" Jean-Luc pressed, when Beverly stopped herself.
There was no tension between them. There was no tension in the air. Now that the shock seemed to be fading, Jean-Luc looked—well—relaxed. It surprised Beverly, honestly, but she didn't want to question it too much. She wanted him to have the freedom to act as he felt, without feeling like she was scrutinizing everything he did, or didn't do.
"You hate children, Jean-Luc," she said, her face burning a bit warm. She meant what she was saying, but she was no longer certain that she'd truly meant to say it. Having begun, though, without fully thinking it through, she felt as though she must continue. To have told Jean-Luc that what she'd started to say was "nothing worth finishing," or to have tried to wave it away entirely, would have only started something between them that didn't need to happen, as Jean-Luc tried to either force the words out of her, or became somewhat paranoid, as he made up what he believed she might be thinking.
It was better to be open and straight-forward. That was what Beverly wanted in this relationship, since it seemed that they were both dedicated to having an actual relationship, and it seemed like she ought not to start things off by being the exact opposite of that. She should model what she desired.
Jean-Luc surprised her by looking at least a little surprised, himself.
"I hate children?" He asked.
"Are you saying that you don't?" Beverly countered.
"Well, I…" He said, clearly thinking about his answer to the question. "I didn't think that I did. I don't—relate to children very well, and I…well…"
"You banned them from the bridge," Beverly said with a laugh. "And you nearly had a fit the very first time that I brought Wesley with me in the turbolift."
Jean-Luc laughed.
"I do believe that they have their place," Jean-Luc said. "And, perhaps, I've always been a bit old-fashioned with the idea that, on the whole, they ought not to be heard so much as seen, but…I wouldn't say that I hate them. On the contrary…"
"On the contrary?" Beverly interrupted. She laughed quietly. She noticed that she felt relaxed. She noticed that Jean-Luc looked relaxed. Her muscles felt sore—a bit of proof that she'd been more anxious over this conversation than she'd realized. And, yet, now she felt as though there hadn't been nearly as much to worry about at as she'd believed.
Jean-Luc still hadn't said, directly, how he felt, but Beverly found that she didn't fear his response.
"You aren't going to try to say that you love children, Jean-Luc," she said, feeling bold enough to tease him—and feeling a bit of a thrill rush through her at the realization that she did feel free to tease him at this particular moment.
Jean-Luc laughed quietly, too, and she thought his cheeks ran a bit pink. He looked away from her.
"Well…perhaps not love, but…"
"But?" She pressed.
He paused a moment. She let him have his time. He drew in a breath, twice, like he might speak, before he looked back at her, clearly ready to actually do that.
Jean-Luc sighed. Beverly's stomach sank, slightly, as he became a bit more serious, but she tried her best not to let her face change too much.
"Beverly—I didn't have the greatest relationship with my father," Jean-Luc said.
"I know," she said, softly.
He shook his head, looked off and beyond her, and continued.
"Many of the captains that I idolized spoke about how having families was so difficult," Jean-Luc said. "People who never made it to being a captain—who chose different routes—often spoke about how it was their families that kept them from achieving their dreams."
"There are many great captains who have had families, Jean-Luc," Beverly offered gently, not pointing out that they were quite grounded, and could likely remain so for the rest of their lives. "Sometimes, it's not about the families, as much as it's about the expectations of those families. I'm Starfleet, Jean-Luc. I understand the role of a captain, and I understand the role of…his wife."
Jean-Luc looked at her, a bit wide-eyed. It was all still so new. They had both loved each other for so long, but the act of accepting that love, and making the decision to go after it, entirely, was new. The decision to be married, whether they did that with an actual service between the two of them, or simply with some exchanged words to seal the decision, was still fresh.
He smiled softly at the reminder of what they'd discussed.
"I would want to save you from…becoming a widow again," Jean-Luc said. "A captain's widow. And from spending your life waiting for me."
Beverly laughed.
"You assume that I would stay home and do nothing but wait for you? No—I'm the Chief Medical Officer, remember?"
"How can I forget?" He asked, his smile returning.
"Jean-Luc, at some point we have to recognize that there are excuses that, sometimes, we hide behind—but that's all they are. They're a wall behind which we can hide what we're really thinking, and what we're really feeling. We are both Starfleet, so let's not hide behind it."
He stared at her. She held his eyes. Finally, he softened and nodded.
"You are perfectly right," he said. "My father. Starfleet. My role as captain. Perhaps, I've been hiding behind all of those things. They have made it easier, you see, to…to accept that I would never have you, Beverly. I would never have a life with you, and I couldn't seem to make myself desire—to truly desire—a life with anyone else. Oh…there were a few times that I tried to entertain it, but…it never felt right."
Beverly took his hand. He looked at her. She smiled at him.
"Jean-Luc…in case it's slipped your mind, I'm sitting right here," Beverly said. "And, as of only a few minutes ago, I thought we were going to be married, even if that means simply saying that we are married now, and it's just that simple."
Jean-Luc turned her hand in his. He brought his other hand up. He held her hand in both of his, like he was trying to convince himself that it was made of true substance and not the wispy makings of a dream.
"Could it be so simple?" He asked.
She saw his Adam's apple bob somewhat dramatically as he swallowed and looked back at her to await a response.
"It's done," she said with a shrug. "Official. As far as I'm concerned, Jean-Luc, we're married, and nobody can tell me otherwise, or change a single thing."
"Not that there's anyone on this planet to protest it," he said with a laugh.
"Nobody that we know," Beverly said. "But if there were, they would be wrong. Marriage is a vow, Jean-Luc. It's a promise to love and care for each other for as long as we live. It's a promise to be dedicated to one another, and to help one another. It's a promise to…to simply be there for each other. I make that promise to you, for now and forever."
He wetted his lips with his tongue. He held her eyes.
"It feels so simple—too simple, even—for the profound feelings that I feel," Jean-Luc said. "Words fall short."
"They often do," Beverly offered.
"I make that promise to you, too, Beverly," Jean-Luc said. "And so many others that…I can feel and, yet, I hardly think that I could name."
She smiled at him.
"That's good enough for me," she said. "Is it good enough for you?"
"Just to be married to you…I could hardly ask for more," Jean-Luc said.
"Well, then, you'd better kiss me," Beverly said. "As I understand it, it's not official until you do."
He smiled and leaned toward her. She closed her eyes and met his lips with her own. She savored the kiss, feeling sensations that she didn't expect coursing through her body as surely as if they'd somehow entered her bloodstream. She couldn't help but sigh when the kiss broke.
Jean-Luc was staring at her, when she opened her eyes.
"It seems too simple for something for which it seems I've been waiting practically a lifetime," Jean-Luc said.
"We'll have to consummate it, of course," Beverly said. "If you weren't too attached to the list that you made for today, it could be a perfect activity for an afternoon where you tell me that I have to stay off my feet."
He smiled.
"I suppose we can be flexible," Jean-Luc said. "After all, we do make all the decisions, here, and nothing must be done until we say it must be."
"Jean-Luc…I don't mean to press, but…you still haven't exactly said how you feel about the baby," Beverly said.
She didn't try to read his expression. She decided it was best to let him speak for himself.
"I suppose that's because—I hardly know what to say," Jean-Luc said. "I never imagined that I would ever marry you. I never imagined that I would marry at all. By extension, then, it never seemed within the realm of possibility that I might be a father. That was something that—only others did."
"Not anymore," Beverly said.
"Not anymore," Jean-Luc mused.
"I know this is a surprise," Beverly said.
"Quite," Jean-Luc agreed. "Of course, in hindsight, I suppose…it shouldn't be so much of a surprise. It was only a moment of passion, though."
Beverly laughed.
"Practically entire generations have been born from moments of passion," Beverly said. "In fact, some species rely on just that to drive the growth of their populations."
"So they do," Jean-Luc agreed.
"Jean-Luc…" Beverly said.
He offered her a soft smile. He squeezed her hand in his.
"Please, don't look so worried, Beverly," Jean-Luc said.
She drew in a breath and willed herself to relax a little.
"It would be much easier, if you'd say something," Beverly said.
"This is hardly the ideal place and time," Jean-Luc said. It sounded hollow—no more than a musing given voice.
"No," Beverly said. "I doubt it would have been a first choice for our situation, but…it's what we have. It's the life we have now, and we have to accept that…it might be the life we have forever."
Jean-Luc hummed and nodded.
"It will be difficult," he said.
"There were always going to be difficult elements," Beverly said, leaving the statement up to interpretation. Jean-Luc, she felt, didn't need details as much as he needed something like reassurance.
"Beverly—it's entirely possible that I'm not cut out to be a very good father," he said. "Or a very good husband, for that matter."
Beverly's heart felt like it fluttered—skipping a beat, or picking up an extra one—when she heard something distinct in his voice. It was a sound that was a touch like hope, and a touch like longing. He was seeking reassurance from her and, of course, as his wife, however new to her role she may be, she was happy to offer that.
"Do you want to be a good husband and father, Jean-Luc?" She asked.
"Wanting and being are two very different things, Beverly," Jean-Luc said, his voice sounding slightly strained.
"Jean-Luc…" she said, drawing him back to her question with little more than an expression.
He sighed.
"Very much so," he said.
"Then, you will," Beverly said. "That's it. That's all there is to it."
"It isn't so simple," Jean-Luc said.
"It isn't so difficult, either. The will is there," Beverly said. "We can always work on the rest."
"You sound so confident," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly smiled.
"I am," she said.
She might not be confident that it would be easy—she wasn't confident that anything that lay ahead for them would be easy—but she was confident that they could do it. They could do anything, as long as they were both working, together, toward the same goal.
"What have I ever done for you to believe in me so?" He asked.
She smiled.
"Loved me," she offered. "Among so many other things."
"Such a small thing," Jean-Luc said, "when loving you is as natural as breathing."
She hummed at him.
"What do you prefer, Jean-Luc? Father…or…there's Dad, or Daddy, or Papa, or Pop…anything that makes you happy."
He seemed to consider it a moment.
"I've never thought of myself as any of it," he said. "But…if I had to choose, I believe…I would want to be Papa."
Beverly smiled and nodded.
"Then…Papa you'll be," she said.
"When?" Jean-Luc asked.
"I don't know, exactly," Beverly said. "One day runs into the next, and we don't have a tricorder. But…it's been probably two months, maybe three?"
"There are things we need to do," Jean-Luc said. "We need to prepare."
"We've already started," Beverly said.
"You didn't tell me," he said, seeming to realize that she'd been putting pieces silently into place.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"No bother," Jean-Luc said. "It is what it is. At least, now, we can prepare, as much as possible."
"Yes," she agreed. "But—since today I should rest my ankle, and since it's our honeymoon, maybe we could put off preparing until tomorrow? Spend the day with me, Jean-Luc? Just…being with me?"
He smiled. He nodded his head gently.
"A part of me feels a bit panicked at the thought that we're postponing preparations for even a moment," he admitted. "But the other is entirely enamored by the idea of spending the day just…being your husband."
"And a papa," Beverly offered.
"And a papa," he echoed, his smile renewing.
"Listen to that part, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "Just for today."
He hummed.
"No matter how I've tried," he said, "I never could truly refuse you anything."