AN: Here we are, another piece here and a bit of the transition into what we might consider "the next part" of their adventure together. There's still a great deal for them to deal with and overcome, but we're headed to France!

I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!

111

Beverly had been to the Château once for a shore leave with Jean-Luc. He'd only just decided to truly take ownership of it, again, after the passing of his brother. It had been rebuilt and then closed up like a tomb. Jean-Luc had hired someone to clean it and air it out—to prepare it for their visit—but it hadn't yet become a "home" after some time of being closed up.

Beverly remembered the emotional struggle that Jean-Luc had been dealing with then. She, too, had been dealing with her own struggle. It had been one of the times when they were "on again," and keeping their relationship as secret as possible, because Jean-Luc wasn't ready to face everything that such a relationship might mean.

A lot of Beverly's life had been dictated by the fact that Jean-Luc hadn't been ready to face things—too much. She was too old and too tired for that, now. Now, he had to face things, and she was ready to tell him that, even if she knew to do things as delicately as possible and all in their right time.

When she'd been there before, the Château had felt practically haunted. It had felt so void of life. It was cold beyond even what fires in the many fireplaces could touch.

They had made love in what felt like every room, trying to warm it, but Beverly had wondered if it could ever truly feel like a home. They'd barely made it back to the Enterprise, following that shore leave, before they'd ended things—again.

The first thing that Beverly noticed about the Château, upon their arrival this time, was that it immediately felt like a home. Even though it had clearly been somewhat closed up for Laris' job on Chaltok IV and Jean-Luc's answering of Beverly's call, it was a home. Beverly could feel the love and the life practically seeping from the walls. It warmed her, walking through the front door, in the way that no fire ever could.

Jean-Luc had contacted someone to bring Number One from Laris' temporary residence on Chaltok IV. He'd also requested that someone open the house and air it out for them—not that it had been too long shut up. The temporary caretaker had prepared the house quite well for their arrival.

The Château felt like a home, and Beverly had no doubt of who had been responsible for the transition from cold residence to warm home.

Her patient had lost consciousness once on the transport. Beverly had been concerned, but not too concerned. It was a great deal of strain on a body that still needed healing to be moved a long distance like that. Laris had been stable, otherwise. Upon arriving at the Château, Beverly had moved to set her up in the master bedroom, and she'd requested what had been her own room. Beverly had accepted it as her need to have some privacy, and she'd let the medical assistants help her set up all the equipment that she'd requested.

Finally, they'd been left alone, and Beverly had worked to get Laris as comfortable and stable as she could.

"Now—isn't this better than a sickbay?" Beverly asked, tucking Laris in as she might a child. She started scanning through the reports generated by the machines. "Your color is so much better already."

"When can I take this off?" Laris asked, catching her fingers under the edge of the portable regenerator that she wore like something of a clam shell.

"Your numbers are already improving," Beverly said. "Just leaving that sickbay—it seems to have done wonders. Your respiration is the best that it's been."

"When?" Laris asked.

Beverly smiled at her.

"As early as tomorrow," Beverly said. "But likely the day after. As soon as that hole in your lung reduces in size. The good news is that—you see how you're hot and sweating?"

"I hadn't missed it for a moment," Laris said.

"That's one of the things that happens when Vulcanoids enter into their really serious healing phases," Beverly said. "You began that halfway through the transport—as soon as you believed me that I really wasn't tricking you and taking you somewhere else." Laris simply stared at her. Beverly smiled at her. "I know you're afraid to trust me, but…you can trust me. Now—will you do me a favor?" Laris hummed in question. "Please…please…will you eat something? I know you refused to take anything from Doctor M'Pram or her nurses. Will you take something from me? Or Jean-Luc…I'll have him bring it. Just…I need you to eat something. Anything."

"Whatever you bring me," Laris said, "I will eat. If…"

"If?" Beverly asked.

"Please—I'm so thirsty…" Laris said. "Every time I wouldn't eat, they said…if I wouldn't take food, I clearly didn't need anything else."

Beverly frowned.

"I knew that things weren't what they should have been. I wish I could say that I'm surprised, but I've seen things in others' sickbays."

"I'm a Romulan," Laris said, offering Beverly something of a smile.

Beverly's chest tightened. She shook her head.

"I'm not even honoring that with a response. I'll bring you water," she promised. "If you'll eat for me, I'll bring you all the water you can drink. And—even if you won't eat, I'll still bring you water."

111

"You look lost, Jean-Luc," Beverly said.

He looked at her, for just one moment, as though he didn't recognize her. For just a moment, he looked as if he were entirely lost—just as she'd said. She half-expected him to tell her that he had no memory of this place or of her face.

Recognition and the return to the present settled over him. She saw it, just as surely as she might have seen something dripping down his face.

He smiled a truly exhausted smile.

"You'll excuse me if I say that—I'm feeling rather lost," Jean-Luc said.

"Overwhelmed," Beverly said.

"Are you offering that as a description of my feelings, or your own?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Both," Beverly said.

He laughed quietly.

"You would be quite right," he said. "I would offer you wine, but…"

Beverly touched her fingers to her belly. The little one inside of her wasn't moving yet to a point where she could sense it. Still, she was entirely aware of its presence. There were moments where she wondered if she was more aware of this baby than she had been with Wesley and Jack. She'd decided that probably wasn't the case, but it had been so long that she'd forgotten a great deal of what she'd felt before.

"I would love some…milk…honestly," she said. "Very cold."

"I believe the replicator can handle such an order," Jean-Luc said, going to get the milk. She followed him.

"Replicators," she said.

"Laris insisted," Jean-Luc said. "We do much of—everything—around here as we did before. The technology is limited. Frequently, the food and beverages are prepared by hand, but we do have the replicators."

"Laris does much of everything by hand," Beverly said. "Is that what you mean?"

"She has cared for this home for around twenty years," Jean-Luc said, nodding as he handed Beverly the ice cold glass of milk. She tasted it, pleased to find that it was what she wanted. She followed him as he took his glass of wine and led her out to a terrace.

"And the man who calls it home?" Beverly asked.

"She has cared for him, as well," Jean-Luc said.

Beverly expected the mix of emotions that flooded her—gratitude to Laris for caring for Jean-Luc along with a hint of jealousy.

"Her respiration is improving," Beverly said. "It still needs to improve more, but…I'll take what I can get. I am not happy with her pulse, yet. I've already found a tear in her heart that we didn't see before. It should heal with the regenerator, but if it doesn't—I'll cross that bridge when I get there. She ate for the first time. She drank a great deal of water. She was able to relieve herself." Beverly laughed. "You don't want to hear all of this."

"On the contrary," Jean-Luc said. "I want to know how she's doing. I also want to support you however I can, and I know it has always helped you to talk about what's happening."

"Her nictitating membrane is still shuttering," Beverly said. "I don't like that at all, but…she's sleeping now. This time, she's sleeping without a sedative." She drew in a breath and let it out. "Tomorrow's a new day, and it's foolish to think that just being in the Château would magically heal her. I'm not a fool, and I'm not even a green doctor. I know that was just…daydreaming."

"But she is improving."

"She is improving," Beverly said.

"That is all owing to your care," Jean-Luc said, "and your recognition of what she needs. Your willingness to provide it."

Beverly laughed at his cheeriness. Whether it was entirely genuine or a bit put on her for her benefit, she didn't know. It also didn't matter.

"She's going to recover. I expect she'll be stronger and better tomorrow."

"I'm sure she will," Jean-Luc said. "Can I—go in to say goodnight to her, or…?"

"If you don't wake her," Beverly said. "Please—this is the first time she's slept on her own."

Jean-Luc smiled softly and nodded.

"For tonight, I'll just let her sleep."

111

"This is new," Beverly said, standing under the flow of hot water in the shower.

Jean-Luc slipped in behind her and, immediately, wrapped his arms around her and leaned against her back. She felt him press his lips to her shoulder, and a shiver of pleasure ran through her body.

"The bathrooms needed to be redone," Jean-Luc said. "This was an upgrade."

Beverly laughed quietly.

"Laris picked it out?" She asked.

She felt him tense. She tensed in response and then relaxed.

"It's OK," she said. "Jean-Luc—I'm very aware of your life. I'm aware that—you had a life, just as I did. I'm happy, honestly, that she was…here. I'm happy that she was able to love you. Maybe it's time. Maybe it's experience. Maybe it's the realization that death really is coming for us all. Or, maybe it's the fact that she loved you that…that made you open to this."

Beverly took his hand moved it down. She pressed it to her abdomen. She felt his fingers tense and, then, spread open to relax his palm against her skin. She pressed his hand a bit more and closed her eyes.

"I am very aware, Jean-Luc, of your love for her. It has done amazing things. It created this."

"And yet," Jean-Luc said, his face still resting against Beverly, "I'm finding that—when I touch you like this, all I can think about is…the last time you were like this, when you carried Jack. I wasn't there. I missed all of it. Every moment. And, though I know it's not an acceptable thought, I keep thinking—what if this is a second chance of sorts?"

Beverly pulled away from him. She turned around. She caught his face in her hands.

"I don't know what this is," she said. "For any of us. I don't know what this is, Jean-Luc. When I was carrying Jack, I wanted you there, but I knew that you couldn't be there. I knew it was better for everyone, really, if you weren't there."

"Was it truly better for all of us?" Jean-Luc asked.

Beverly felt her stomach tighten. She felt a wave of nausea. She closed her eyes. The medication she took for the morning sickness was wearing off. She needed another dose. This little one was becoming integrated, as Doctor M'Pram had said, but she still felt like it was expressing some feelings about the change of location.

"I may have made a mistake," Beverly said. "I don't know if I did, or I didn't. That's the thing about choices, Jean-Luc. We can look back and think—if I had done this some other way, here's how it would have turned out, but we both know that it's not true. We're always seeing just one possibility. One way it might have turned out. There's no way of knowing what might have really happened. If it was a mistake, then—I'm sorry for all of us."

"I have made my share of mistakes, too," Jean-Luc said. "And for each of them, I am truly sorry, Beverly. I am especially sorry for every mistake that hurt you."

She smiled at him.

"This baby isn't Jack," she said.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"But—it is your baby," Beverly said. "And—you deserve the chance to enjoy all the little things about fatherhood, Jean-Luc, that you have never known before. If you want to know them now, of course."

"I want so many things," Jean-Luc said. "Life has become far more complicated than I imagined it would be, at my age."

Beverly laughed quietly.

"Life has become very complicated," she said. "But—we'll figure it out."

"Together?" Jean-Luc asked. There was palpable anxiety. Beverly leaned and kissed him softly.

"Together," she whispered against his lips.

"I'm sorry for complicating things so much," he said.

"I'm not sure that you can take responsibility for that, alone," Beverly said. "It's going to be fine, Jean-Luc. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but…we've both always enjoyed an adventure."