That lack of trust was not misplaced, he realised as, several minutes later, he surveyed the house's "guest bedroom." Irritation at having been so expertly manoeuvred warred with a tight blossoming warmth that threatened to overwhelm him as he stood motionless and took in the sight of his son's nursery.

The room had been dark when he entered but before he could call for lights his foot had caught on the edge of something and he'd stumbled forward. When he'd recovered his balance he softly asked the computer for low lighting.

When the bedroom came into view his immediate surge of irritation at Beverly for laying this trap for him fell away and he felt an enormous hole inside himself burst open. He turned on the spot, one hand over his mouth to keep whatever was attempting to overwhelm him at bay.

Because he was looking at an incredibly detailed copy of a room he hadn't laid eyes on in almost 70 years. Somehow, somehow, Beverly had managed to recreate his boyhood bedroom. From the paint on the walls to the prints above the small single bed and the model ship in a bottle on the shelf over the desk. Everything was such a perfect facsimile that he wondered if this weren't somehow holo generated.

The one difference that he could spot was the rather old fashioned wooden crib set against the exterior wall. He mindlessly made his way over to it, clutching the side rail in order to remain upright. How had she done all of this? By the time Beverly had visited the château, his old room had been painted over, almost stripped bare and redecorated as a rather generic and impersonal looking guest bedroom, despite the period furniture. He'd rarely stepped foot in that room as an adult. The tangle of memories, good and bad, had always threatened to overwhelm him.

He remembered showing her a family album once when they were living together at the château awaiting construction of the E. There had been some photos of himself in his bedroom, but…. That was a brief glance years ago…

Surely this meant something. A woman didn't go to the trouble of recreating a former lover's boyhood bedroom for his child from memory alone if she no longer felt anything for him.

He'd silently backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Eventually he'd prepared for bed and, after discovering an extra pillow and blanket in the hallway linen closet, bunked down on the sofa in the living room.

He'd just smoothed the blanket down over his feet and laid back when he felt a sudden weight drop onto his chest. He startled before he realised that his unknown assailant was purring. A small furry head insistently butted the side of his hand in an attempt to engage him and when he relented, the cat flopped down bonelessly on top of him, demanding to be petted.

Looking up at the ceiling Jean-Luc absently stroked the cat's head, his mind wandering to his conversation with Beverly earlier. It could have gone worse, he mused. For the first time in months he actually felt hopeful.

After returning from his last visit to Earth, the scene he'd walked into in Beverly's office…. After seeing her with McArthur, the man's hands splayed over the shocking evidence of her pregnant state…. He'd gone directly to the Captain's Yacht and plotted a course for the Enterprise. During the three day voyage that followed he'd not allowed himself to think of anything but the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated during his absence.

The numerous reports and various other busy work he created for himself actually carried him through the first week after his return. Deanna, however, had begun monitoring his movements around the ship, popping into his ready room, once going so far as to show up unannounced and uninvited at his quarters in an attempt to get him to discuss his visit to Earth. He'd stonewalled her until she'd given up and merely hovered annoyingly in the background like a worrisome and worried shadow.

No, his current situation, sharing Beverly's couch with her cat was an immense improvement over the past few months. It was as if something tight within him had finally eased, or maybe it was that something had been broken and had finally mended. Regardless, he felt whole, at peace in a way that he hadn't since she'd left him.

That was how he'd come to view his life from the moment he'd returned to the Enterprise to find that she'd transferred; before and after Beverly had left him. He was determined that this moment marked the end of his period of purgatory. He'd lost her once and the emptiness had only grown with each passing day. Then, seeing her with McArthur…. he'd been certain that she'd finally moved beyond his reach altogether, that he'd lost her for the last time.

Now, however, anything and everything was suddenly possible again, more than he had ever dreamed to have. He simply had to find a way to keep her and their son. And he would. Failure was no longer an option. On that thought he drifted into a surprisingly deep sleep.

He awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee and… was that bacon? He swung his legs over the couch and sat up. A black cat with a white patch between its ears, obviously last night's companion, regarded him seriously from on top of the coffee table opposite the sofa. "Good morning," he mumbled sleepily at it, then immediately felt ridiculous for talking to a cat.

He folded the blanket and left it on top of the pillow on the sofa before wandering down the small entrance hallway towards the kitchen. In daylight he had a better view of the house and everywhere he looked he could see evidence of Beverly, the lack of which he hadn't been able to bear the one time he'd dared to enter her former cabin on the Enterprise. Will had left it vacant for the months before his Captain returned to the ship. As far as he knew it remained unoccupied even now.

He was lost in thought standing in the entrance to her kitchen when her voice brought him back from the dark memories of his last few months aboard his ship. The cat had followed him into the room and was now wrapping itself sinuously around his legs, aggressively rubbing its cheeks against his shin.

"I see you've met Lucy." Beverly's voice startled him out of his contemplation of the cat.

"Is that her name?" Beverly nodded and called the cat over, but it glanced at her disinterestedly and continued its attempts to mark him as her territory. "She slept with me…" he ruefully tried to excuse the cat's behaviour.

Beverly's eyebrow quirked up playfully as she looked from Lucy to Jean-Luc, "Traitor." They shared a soft smile.

"Would you like some?" she asked, tilting her head towards the carafe sitting on the warmer beside the replicator. He was encouraged to see a real coffee press but-

"Is it caffeinated?"

"Of course," she answered, confused.

"I just thought…. Well I read that caffeine wasn't good for the baby," he said somewhat hesitantly.

"Ah…. Normally I replicate a single cup. One cup a day won't do any harm." Seeing him glance again at the full carafe she shrugged her shoulders in an unconvincing show of nonchalance. "I figured that you'd need some caffeine. After travelling yesterday. And… How long did it take you to get to Earth?"

"Uh…. Three days. And yes, thank you," he returned somewhat stiltedly while he filled the cup she'd left for him on the counter.

"And the Enterprise, where is she?" Beverly asked. She was nibbling on a strip of very crisply fried bacon. He didn't think he'd ever seen her eat bacon before. She caught him staring and popped the last piece into her mouth before shrugging, "The baby wanted bacon. I'm just glad he's craving something normal and not chalk or dirt," she shivered dramatically.

"Dirt?" he repeated in horror.

"Mmhmmm. So, the Enterprise?" He seemed to shake off his stupor.

"On her way to escort a Terellian ambassador to the Beta quadrant actually." He slid onto one of the barstools and rested his arms on the island counter trying unsuccessfully to follow the conversation.

Her hair had been secured with a familiar pink bow and the light nightgown she wore was draped over her very pregnant shape distracting him with the most impure thoughts he'd ever had. He didn't fool himself that it was the shape alone, he'd never looked twice at a pregnant woman in his life. It was that she was having his baby and he'd never thought that that would be such a turn on and yet… He shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

"And Will, Deanna, Data and Geordi? Everyone's..?"

"Fine, they're all fine. Will has been promoted to acting Captain until they make a decision about a permanent replacement. They're all much as you left them. They miss you, however."

"I miss them too," she murmured as she slid a plate of croissants and pots of jam onto the counter in front of Jean-Luc who had stood and pulled out a second barstool and was waiting for her to sit.

"Did they know? That you were coming to Earth? Did they know?" she clarified as Jean-Luc pushed in her stool.

"I…. Not everyone, no," he responded somewhat defensively. His lips flattened as he gave in to her silent demand to explain further. "After McArthur called…. Deanna wouldn't sanction me leaving the ship without explaining where I was going…. And why."

"She wouldn't?" Beverly asked, obviously shocked.

"No. She said that I was behaving most unlike my normal self - erratic and volatile I think were the words she used." Beverly stared at him wide eyed, her croissant suspended halfway to her mouth. "I was… perhaps behaving a bit irrationally, emotionally."

"What does that mean? I don't think I've ever known you to be irrational."

"I sent in an immediate request for transfer back to Earth…. Any position…. I really didn't care at the time…" Beverly finally took a bite of her croissant, the taste of sweet strawberry barely registering. She chewed slowly as she mulled over what he'd said. As well as what he hadn't.

"Someone contacted Deanna…." she concluded. "She wouldn't have known about the request so-" Jean-Luc nodded, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the partially eaten croissant between his hands.

"Yes…. Admiral Nechayev…. She received my request and thought I'd finally cracked." He smiled softly at her. "In a way she was right."

"So, Deanna…?"

"Knows everything. I hope-"

"No. It's fine. I haven't felt able to really communicate with her since…. It was difficult keeping such a big secret." Her mouth snapped closed and she very much looked like she wished to take back her words. Which led them right back to the heart of their unresolved issues.

Lucy had taken advantage of their inattention and had jumped up onto an empty barstool. She was currently attempting to stretch undetected across the counter, sniffing delicately at Beverly's croissant. "Absolutely not, Miss. You've got your own food, right over there." She picked up the cat and set her gently on the floor. Looking at Jean-Luc she apologised, "Sorry. You're in her seat. We have breakfast together."

His eyebrows climbed his forehead. "Replaced by a goddamned cat," he muttered and then smiled when she giggled. Everything about this moment felt right and good to him. He had missed her, but he had missed them even longer.

"I saw the nursery last night," he said with a gentle smile as he remembered his awe the previous evening when he'd stumbled into the room Beverly had decorated for their son.

"I thought that you might have," she smirked, trying to sidestep the emotion in his voice at the mention of the room she'd prepared for their son.

"I don't know how you managed it, but I…" he trailed off, words for once failing him.

"I was going to tell you, Jean-Luc." They regarded each other steadily for a long moment before he nodded and took a sip of coffee.

"Despite how lovely the nursery looks Beverly, I can't help but think how much more space there is at the château…."

"Jean-Luc…. I'll think about it," she sighed.

Not wanting to mar the détente that they had somehow managed to achieve, and recognising that he'd pushed far enough for one morning, he smoothly changed the subject, indicating the cup in her hand, "So…. Is there anything else you can't have? Besides too much caffeine."

"Alcohol obviously. A half glass of wine now and then is okay. Soft cheeses. Now that I think about it," she turned to him playfully, "pregnancy sounds like a Frenchman's worst nightmare, Jean-Luc."

"Yes, well I somehow don't imagine that you mind." She smiled gently at him and shook her head. "It suits you. You're glowing, absolutely beautiful." After the past year, Beverly had honestly thought herself too cynical to blush. Leave it to Jean-Luc to prove otherwise.

"I'm scheduled for a scan this morning," she told him lightly, picking up her coffee cup and taking a sip. "Would you like to come?"

"Yes," he said emphatically so that there would be no doubt in her mind that he wanted to be included in everything going forward. "Yes, I would like that."

"Alright, we'd better get moving then. I'll take the bathroom first."

"I'll clean up out here," he responded, grabbing Lucy who was making another bid to lick the jam off of his plate.

She nodded and moved towards the hallway, throwing over her shoulder, "We have to leave in an hour. The appointment's at 10."

Jean-Luc glanced over at the chronometer on the wall, confused. "Wait," he called out to her. "So, then, why are we leaving so early? It won't take but 15 minutes to walk-"

But Beverly was shaking her head. "My ob-gyn isn't affiliated with Starfleet, Jean-Luc. I like to walk to the public transporter station, then it takes a while to get from the station to the office on the other end."

He sat and absorbed that information. He could think of several reasons that Beverly would eschew Starfleet medical care, few of them positive. "Alright…. But is it because-"

"I didn't and don't need any more gossip circulating, Jean-Luc. It was easier this way…. And it will be for you, too." He nodded and she disappeared through the doorway. He turned just in time to see Lucy looking at him saucily with a smudge of jam on her nose and her tail flipping back and forth in what he felt was definitely an insubordinate manner. Shaking his head and mumbling about difficult females he began to clear up the breakfast dishes, the grin on his face contradicting the grumbling completely.