Despite his determination to locate Beverly immediately, somehow Admiral Neychevev had discovered that he was inbound toward Earth and had requested his presence as soon as he docked. He was still on leave! He wondered idly how on Earth that woman had discovered he'd returned to the Enterprise and done a quick turn around toward Earth after a three minute debrief by Will. It hadn't taken three minutes to discover what had ultimately driven him back off of his ship like a man possessed. It had been the first thing Will had told him.

Two days after leaving the Enterprise and one after receiving the Admiral's unwelcome orders, he was still reeling. At the time, when he'd returned to the ship, he hadn't understood the diverted eyes and sympathetic expressions he'd received during the transit from the Captain's Yacht to his ready room. As he now placed the yacht into standard Earth orbit and contacted Command, he wished to hell he could have remained ignorant.

He still couldn't believe that she had left him. During the two day journey he'd checked and rechecked the records. At first he thought that perhaps she'd been ordered planetside, only to discover that she had requested reassignment. Without talking to him. She hadn't even left a note explaining where she'd gone…

And what in the hell was she doing in a middling teaching and research position? Her record and rank dictated a much more prestigious assignment. He was bewildered that she had seemingly abandoned everything, abandoned him, for a career move that amounted to a demotion. Something else was going on and he refused to believe it was McArthur, despite what Will had said.

When he'd beamed down to Command at 11h30 he'd planned to quickly locate Beverly around 13h00 and pull her away for a late lunch. The month preceding his departure from the ship he'd tiptoed around her and allowed her to shut him out. That had obviously been a mistake of colossal proportions. He'd made a lot of mistakes in the last several months, including taking leave in the first place. But leaving without first talking to her, allowing McArthur to essentially bar him from having a discussion before leaving the ship was the most egregious. The regret he felt was suffocating him.

However, he was certain that he could fix this. On the journey to Earth he'd explored several options to get her reinstated and thought he'd come up with an acceptable solution. There was a CMO position available on the Lexington. It wasn't the flagship, but a perfectly acceptable position for Dr. Selar, should she choose not to remain on the Enterprise once Beverly had returned to her post. Either way, he wasn't leaving San Francisco without her…

Several hours later, as the round table discussion on the continuing fallout from the Ba'ku situation dragged on, he was certain that Necheyev was drawing out the meeting on purpose just to irritate him. Surely the Admiral had guessed that he wasn't on Earth by chance, that he had business to attend to.

He had long ago given up on any vague lunch plans he'd had and refocussed on possible options for dinner. Now though, as the supper hour loomed, he doubted whether he could locate Beverly before she left for the day, and he hadn't yet been able to discover where she was living locally. So far he'd managed to conceal his agitation but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

When Nechayev finally indicated that the meeting was drawing to a close, he seized upon the opportunity to state his case regarding the Enterprise's CMO position. If he had to delay his discussion with Beverly until the morning, then at least he'd have accomplished something of his goal.

"Admiral, there is one other thing." She looked at him expectantly as he moved up beside her chair to ensure privacy from the other departing officers. "The posting of Chief Medical Officer on board the Enterprise…"

"I was under the impression that that matter had been settled, the position filled by Dr. Selar. She was, after all, Dr. Crusher's second."

"Selar is a fine doctor and ready to handle her own sickbay, of course. Rather, I wanted to discuss Dr. Crusher's transfer. I wasn't able to be involved in those discussions and I believe that perhaps there has been some error-"

"Captain…." Was it his imagination or was she refusing to meet his eyes? "Have you had a conversation with Dr. Crusher?" She was definitely uncomfortable. He'd never actually seen Alynna Nechayev anything but at ease, assured and in command of any given situation. What did her discomfort mean and why was it causing anxiety to bloom down low in his gut?

"Not as yet. That is the purpose of my visit here. I wasn't informed that there was to be a change in the Enterprise's CMO. Surely a decision of that magnitude and involving the ship's senior staff should have been delayed until my return to the ship."

Necheyev's lips pursed and she blew out a forceful breath. "Captain, have a conversation with Dr. Crusher," she told him bluntly.

"Yes. Yes, of course," he responded, confused.

"Dismissed, Captain."

It was almost 17h00 when he finally made his way to her office through the twisted warren that was the basement of the Academy training hospital. She couldn't want to remain here in the bowels of this building. Beverly was impulsive sometimes. No doubt her temper had gotten the better of her… No, she wouldn't have lightly made a decision to upend her life, which meant that she'd thought about it, committed to it, that he'd have to woo her back. Regardless, he was willing to prostrate himself, beg if necessary.

Pulling up short he realised with relief that the third person he'd asked for directions had finally steered him to the right place. The door was wide open and he took a deep breath as he approached. He didn't take the time to knock. It would work in his favour to surprise her. He pulled himself up, banishing his nerves, and crossed the threshold to her office.

The man, McArthur, was perched on her desk, his back to the door. Beverly was standing between his knees. They were intent upon each other, looking down and neither had yet noticed their visitor who stood frozen just across the threshold.

"Little guy packs a punch." There was a bark of light laughter.

"Little girl," Beverly corrected and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Maybe." Beverly looked up then. Something had alerted her to his presence. Maybe his aftershave or maybe just that second sense that they'd always had when the other was near, a tingling niggle in the back of the mind.

Peter stood when he felt Beverly still and saw her blanche. He kept his arm around her waist as he stood and turned, revealing her fully to her visitor.

"Captain," he said seemingly nonplussed. Turning to Beverly he added, "I'll talk to you later." He placed a soft kiss on her cheek before releasing his hold on her.

As he shifted and moved past Picard, Beverly seemed to snap back to herself. The two former lovers stared at each other, then his gaze dropped to her abdomen.

"Hello, Jean-Luc…"

"I…" He managed to pull his eyes from the swell of her belly and his stunned gaze met hers. "Hello, Beverly." His voice sounded weak, surreal even to his own ears. She was pregnant. Beverly was pregnant.

"You're looking well, Jean-Luc. Leave has obviously agreed with you."

"So are... I…" He could only hope that he didn't look as poleaxed as he felt. "Are you well, Beverly?" he blurted out.

"I… Yes, as well as can be expected." Her voice was wary and he could tell that she was feeling her way through this conversation as carefully as he was. My God, he thought. She's pregnant. And in that moment he knew that nothing would or could ever be the same between them again. He had finally lost Beverly.

"And… and McArthur…" he breathed out, careful to keep his voice neutral. "He's taking care of you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're… he's…. I just mean are you happy? Do you have everything that you need?" He winced slightly as if only now hearing what he'd just said.

Beverly stared at him in mounting disbelief as she put two and two together. Anger, fury even, quickly overrode her stunned sense that this was all merely a bad dream. Did he really believe that she'd run off and…. Judging me by his own actions, she thought in defeat, her lips twisting in disappointment.

"What are you doing here, Jean-Luc?"

Thinking quickly he answered, "I…. I was recalled to give additional testimony on the.. the situation in the Briar Patch. I heard that you'd accepted a transfer…"

"I see. So you thought you'd pop around for a visit…. For old time's sake."

"I…. Yes."

"And then, you'll be returning to… complete the remainder of your leave."

"I... Yes, I suppose that that is the plan."

"I see," she said flatly. "Well, in that case, I'm glad you stopped by before you disappear again."

The pair regarded each other warily.

"I-"

"You-"

"Sorry. Go ahead," she offered stiffly.

"I should probably be going…. If I'm to make my departure window. I just wanted…. I wanted to see how you were. I'll…. I'll be certain to give your regards to the senior staff and to sickbay of course." It was as if they were strangers. Beverly nodded solemnly and he turned and headed for the door. Before he reached it, he swung back towards her, his eyes darting down once again to the arm now wrapped protectively around her middle then back up to meet her eyes. "Congratulations, Beverly. I wish you every happiness. I know how much…. I know what a wonderful mother you are…. McArthur is a…. a very lucky man."

"Jean-Luc…." She hesitated, hurt and fury vying with her innate sense of fairness and her bewildering love for this man that endured no matter what they seemed to do to one another. But maybe they'd done enough…. Jean-Luc was leaving here and returning to Ba'ku. He'd stopped by as a courtesy call. She could tell him later. It didn't have to be today after all. When she pulled herself out of her dark thoughts, he was looking at her expectantly, desperately she might even have thought had she not known better, had he not just told her otherwise. "Have a safe trip."

He stood completely still for a moment longer before he dipped his head in acknowledgment and strode purposefully out the door. As soon as he cleared the threshold she sagged against her desk chair, lowering herself down by feel alone. Her eyes were a blurry mess as she tried to choke back the delayed reaction.

——

"What do you mean you didn't tell him, Beverly?" They were sitting in the kitchen of Beverly's townhouse in San Francisco sharing their evening meal like they had so many times over the past two months. Peter set his fork down abruptly, frowning at her as he picked up his glass.

"Just that. I didn't tell him."

"So you've managed to convince him that it was some sort of miraculous conception?" he sniped sarcastically.

"Not exactly." Her eyes darted away from his, focusing on the plate of pasta in front of her instead. He easily read the unspoken truth written on her face.

"You're kidding me, right?" he asked incredulously.

"Peter-"

"We weren't even in the same quadrant, sweetheart." She rolled her eyes.

"He wouldn't know the difference between five months versus three months pregnant if his life depended on it."

"So you've led him to believe that-"

"Absolutely not! He assumed." She still refused to meet his gaze, but flushed guiltily as the silence lengthened.

"This isn't like you, Beverly…" he said quietly.

"I didn't lie to him. And anyway, I didn't think you approved of him."

"As good as…. A lie of omission is still a lie… And it doesn't matter if I approve or not. A man has a right to know that he's going to be a father." He sighed deeply then took a swig from the mug in front of him, suddenly wishing that he hadn't asked for synthale. "Did you find out what he's doing here, instead of in the Briar Patch?"

"Something about an additional deposition concerning the Ba'Ku incident. I don't know the details. I didn't ask. He didn't offer. Truthfully, he couldn't get away quickly enough," she muttered ruefully.

"Damnit, Beverly. This isn't right. You know this isn't right."

"I'm going to tell him."

"When? When are you going to tell him? After the birth? The kid's first birthday? His second? It'll only get more difficult, easier to say nothing!"

"You weren't there, Peter. I was caught off guard. The second he saw us together he'd made up his mind."

"I only meant to rattle his cage a bit…"

"Sorry?"

"On the Enterprise," he sighed unhappily.

"Peter, it has nothing to do with you! How could it?!"

"I might have given him the impression that we were much more than friends…" he admitted reluctantly.

"At the banquet onboard, yes I know. Although honestly it couldn't have looked that intimate."

"Maybe after that too…". That got her attention. "A little jealousy is a good motivator, Beverly. I just thought-"

"That you could goad him into a reaction." She finished in deflated exhaustion. Her fork clattered to the table top. "Oh, Peter… Jean-Luc Picard does not react well to manipulation, especially emotional manipulation…. This is all my fault. I should have-"

"You have to tell him, Beverly."

"I know and I will."

"Bev-"

"I said I will, Peter," she muttered in exasperation.

"It's not just that he has a right to know, Beverly. I won't be here much longer."

"You've been assigned somewhere?"

He nodded and forked up a mouthful of penne. "We've finished the risk analysis for Donas II. They want us on the ground within the next week."

"That's a good thing. This is what you've been working towards for the past three months, isn't it? So, how did you get the Federation to agree to intervene or the Donarians to accept for that matter? Just two weeks ago you said you didn't know if you'd ever be able to cut through all of the red tape and political manoeuvring and posturing…. That the Donarians wouldn't agree to outside help." When he didn't answer she felt a chill pass through her body. "Peter? Something happened."

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "One of the lunar colonies was raided."

"Traffickers?" she asked quietly.

"Yes…. I have to go, Beverly. The Donarian Council has finally agreed to let us investigate and help them establish a planetary alert system and defensive measures. They've asked me to lead the response effort. I have no idea how long I'll be gone."

"Of course you have to go! Peter, I've been looking after myself for a long time-"

"That's exactly my point, Beverly," he pointed out flatly. "You don't have to and I think you know that."

"Maybe."

"So you'll tell him," he insisted.

"Yes, I'll tell him," she sighed. Eventually, she thought.