The BLTS Archive - What Falls Behind
by RosyRock (rosyrock1968@yahoo.com.au)

---

Published: 04-30-06

Updated: 04-30-06

--- 
"Bravest are those that let love be their guide." 
---
Jean-Luc 
---

Jean-Luc Picard was in his ready room. He sat back in his
chair, his thoughts turning once again to her. He couldn't
seem to keep his mind off of her lately, no matter what he
did.

He had tried to read and listen to music, he had tried the
diversions that the holodeck had offered and then the
physical demands of endless fencing bouts.

And now here he was, back to square one.

He gave in and let his mind wander. He knew what other
people thought about her. 'Ice Queen' was one description
that sprang to mind, and up until last week, icy was an
entirely apt term for how she had treated him. And after
what he had said to her, he could hardly have expected her
to act any differently.

He winced as he remembered his half arsed 'welcome aboard'
speech in Sickbay. No sooner had she returned his greeting
than he launched straight into how he had protested her
posting to the Enterprise. He groaned inwardly as he
recalled the surprise and anger in her eyes. She had ended
up taking it personally, and rightly so. He was still at a
loss to explain his behaviour towards his CMO that day, but
then no woman had the power to upset his equilibrium as she
did, and if he was honest, always had.

They had carried on, politely avoiding one another, until
the Psi 2000 virus had taken hold of his crew, including
himself and the doctor. He thought about how she had
cornered him in his ready room and. . .  "Oh God, would I
love to show you."

Jean-Luc Picard exhaled deeply.

He now found himself watching her, keeping tabs on her and
what she was doing. . . he had never felt himself to be that
sort of person. That he seemed capable of this unsettled
him, badly. But then he had never thought he was the kind of
man to fall in love with another man's wife either.

There was a senior staff meeting tomorrow and he knew she
would be there, seated beside him, her uniform properly
zipped this time, no creamy flesh on display no sexy smile,
no low moaning plea for the 'comfort' that he could offer
her. . .

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between
his thumb and forefinger. He was going mad. He wondered
again for the umpteenth time if he was being affected by
some sort of residual after effects of the virus, before
dismissing it. He was just going to have to pull himself
together.

--- 
Beverly 
---

Doctor Howard sat staring at the screen of her padd. She had
scrolled up and down this same page at least ten times,
reading and re-reading the same information. She sighed and
tapped the padd against the palm of her other hand. She had
known that when she requested this assignment it would mean
hard work and dedication, and by the very nature of her
calling, long hours. But for the last few days she had been
feeling her concentration slipping, her mind wandering, and
it annoyed her intensely.

She had a staff meeting in the morning and she was supposed
to be presenting her findings into the mutation of the Psi
2000 virus. Oh yes, she was sure looking forward to that
one! Beverly felt the tide of colour sweep up her neck and
over her face. That incident in Jean-Luc's ready room! There
was enough humiliation in that to keep her feeling flustered
in his presence for at least the next year. She caught
herself using the captain's first name again and checked
herself. Ever since she had experienced Will Riker's
reaction to her casual use of the captain's first name at
Farpoint Station she had made sure she had addressed him
only by his official title. This had been reinforced by the
captain's attitude towards her. She felt a flare of anger as
she remembered his words to her in Sickbay, how he had
'protested' against her posting to the Enterprise. He had
cited personal reasons for this and had managed to
simultaneously piss her off, both personally and
professionally. She had hid her irritation under a blanket
of cool civility that had been effective, until last week.

Her hand moved absently to the fastening of her uniform as
she remembered the sensual, intoxicating fingers of mental
fog that the Psi 2000 virus produced, stripping away the
inhibitions, leaving behind raw feelings of. . . 
attraction, desire or was it just plain lust? She flushed
hotly. It was bad enough finding out that she had those
feelings for Jean-Luc in the first place, but what had
shocked her to the core was that the feelings of attraction
hadn't abated as they should have.

Beverly stretched and stood up. Then she shook herself
mentally. Enough of this! The whole episode was just an
aberration. She slung the padd onto her desk with a
satisfying sense of dismissal. It would not happen again.

--- 
Jean-Luc 
---

The senior staff meeting was almost over. The workings of
the Psi 2000 virus had been dissected and with the doctor's
report, would hopefully be laid to rest. He noticed that the
doctor's fingers were tapping the edge of her padd in a
nervous little tattoo. He pondered this for a moment before
meeting her eyes. Her expression was inscrutable at best. He
leaned back in his chair and nodded towards her. "Anything
you wish to add, Doctor?"

She smiled tightly and read her closing comments from her
padd.

Jean-Luc took a quick look around the table noting that all
eyes were on the doctor before he relaxed and let his own
gaze wander over her. She had always been coolly
professional with him at all times, she had never given him
any indication of wanting anything more from him, so why had
she done it? Why had she come to him? Could it be that under
that cold professional demeanour, she was attracted to him?

He suppressed a sharp thrill of pleasure at the possibility
of this.

The doctor continued to talk at length about the
modifications that had been required to isolate the mutated
water-carbon complex of the new virus, hardly touching on
the topic of its physical symptoms on the crew at all.
Jean-Luc found himself listening to her voice, dwelling on
how clipped and analytical it sounded now. Not at all like
before, when she'd given him that flirtatious smile, and in
a low, breathy seductive tone told had him that she found
him... "Extremely, extremely..."

"Thank you, Doctor," he rapped out curtly, oblivious to the
fact he had cut her off in mid sentence.

He noticed that the doctor's eyes narrowed at his
interruption, but she said nothing. Brusquely, Jean-Luc
dismissed his senior officers. He got up from his chair in
the observation lounge and went to stare moodily out of the
viewing window. He watched the doctor's reflection as she
paused and turned back towards him on her way out. She stood
for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, then abruptly spun
on her heels and left.

--- 
Beverly 
---


Beverly felt her temper rising to dangerous levels as she
rounded the corner to sickbay.

She couldn't believe it! He had cut her off in front of her
fellow executive officers like she was a fucking school
girl. She could not understand his terse attitude towards
her. The staff meeting had gone better than she had
expected. She had made it through without embarrassing
herself or him. Her carefully worded report had left no room
for Freudian slips, no juicy information had leaked out.
Nobody would ever know what had occurred between them. He
should have thanked her! Instead she had been rewarded with
hostility. She had almost called him on it after the
meeting, but in the end she had decided against making a
scene with the bridge crew so close by.

What had shaken her was how she had felt after his harsh
comment, she had been angry at him it was true. But her
overwhelming urge had been to find out what was the matter
with him. After his terse dismissal, she had almost reached
out to him and touched him on the forearm. His first name
had nearly left her lips. In front of everyone, for God's
sake! She had only just stopped herself in time. Beverly let
out a frustrated groan. What the hell would that have done
for her credibility as CMO?

She reached her office and sat in her chair, taking a long
deep breath to calm herself down.

This was ridiculous. They were both adults. They could sort
this out. She would go to see him this evening and clear the
air. He could rebuff her. But she didn't think he would.
Jean-Luc Picard had always been scrupulously polite to her
before her posting here. He had never given any indication
since she arrived that he saw her as anything more than a
dedicated doctor. Hell, he probably hadn't even known she
was a woman until she had nearly stripped off in front of
him last week. How much more of a fool could she make of
herself any way? What was the worst that could happen?

--- 
Jean-Luc 
---


Jean-Luc Picard was fuming at his own stupidity. He had
arrived on the holodeck after his shift for a match of
terpau. He had been practising the ancient Vulcan kendo-like
martial art lately to help redirect his pent up tensions. He
had been succeeding this time too; his holographic partner
had borne the full brunt of his ill humour this evening.
Jean-Luc had just about beaten the living daylights out of
the hologram with his tevul stick.

He had just started to feel his frustrations diminish when
he had allowed himself to be distracted by the thought of
how she would look, practising terpau, standing there before
him on the holodeck, her tevul stick raised as she bore down
on him, her skin slicked with sweat from her exertions and
her breath coming in sharp panting gasps, her breasts rising
and falling. . .

The unexpected strike of his holographic opponent's tevul
stick had sent him reeling. His lack of attention had meant
that he had not quite raised his stick in time to deflect
the blow and had as a consequence taken almost the full
force of the stinging hit across the side of his face. Of
course the holodeck safety protocols had been engaged, but
the blow had been hard enough to cause the side of his face
from the bottom of his cheek to the top of his eyebrow to
swell and discolour with the beginnings of a nasty bruise.

Humiliated, he had abruptly terminated the program. Even
though he knew that Beverly was not on duty, he had not gone
to sickbay for treatment, preferring instead to come back to
his quarters, where he tried to reduce the swelling as best
as he could with a cold compress.

He paced the floor of the living area in his quarters
absolutely furious with himself. He still couldn't quite
believe he had allowed himself to be beaten at terpau by a
hologram! He had always taken pride in his ability to be in
control of any situation. His hand moved involuntarily to
his cheek, he winced as his fingers gingerly touched the
side of his face. Now he had been left with graphic evidence
to the contrary.

It was as if the Psi 2000 virus had opened the lid on the
Pandora's box of his psyche, letting all of his demons out
into the daylight, and now he was left to desperately try
and put them back inside, bury them down deeply where they
belonged.

He brought his fist down on the table, and gave vent to his
frustration with an x-rated expletive.

Then the door chime sounded.

--- 
Beverly 
---

Beverly had dressed with care. The outfit she had chosen was
conservative and plain. She grimaced at her reflection in
the mirror. No seduction tonight. She planned to just turn
up at Jean-Luc's quarters. Once there, he would hopefully
invite her in and then she would give him her carefully
prepared speech. If all went well she would add the truly
tortuous apology that had her taken ages to get just right.

Then she would turn tail and get the hell out of there.

Cautiously she made her way to his quarters on deck nine. It
would never do to attract too much attention. Finally she
stood before the captain's door. She reached for the chime
and at the last moment a thought struck her, what if he had
company? What if there was a woman he was seeing discretely?
She chuckled to herself. On the Enterprise D it would have
to be very discrete indeed! What if he was busy or what if
he was just out of the shower? Oh good one Beverly, she
thought to herself.

She actually began to physically see-saw backwards and
forwards with indecision as a thousand other doubts bubbled
to the surface.

This had been a very bad idea.

She turned and walked back down the corridor, getting half
way to the turbolift before she stopped. What in heaven's
name was she doing, was she actually running away from him?
Did Captain Jean-Luc Picard scare her? She snorted. Not
likely!

She had skipped dinner to write down and memorise her speech
to him, and that sacrifice would not be for nothing.

She walked all the way back to his quarters and taking a
deep breath reached out for the chime.

Just as she pushed it there was a loud bang, followed by a
fierce shout. Beverly's courage fled in an instant and she
turned on her toes and went to make a run for it, but before
she could, the door to the captain's door slid open. She
heard him choke out her name in a shocked voice, and then
his hand flashed out to grab her around the arm.

---
Jean-Luc
---

Jean-Luc practically dragged her into his quarters. As the
door slid closed he realised that he still had a hold of her
arm and hastily let it go.

She was looking at his face.

"What happened to you?" she said softly, her fingers
reaching out to him.

"Terpau hit," he heard himself say.

She came closer. "It looks painful."

Jean-Luc made himself stay rock still as the doctor's
fingers gently took hold under his chin. She tilted his face
this way and that to get a better look at the contusion.

"How'd it happen?"

Well, I was having an erotic day dream, doctor, in which you
happened to feature. The resulting blood rush to my nether
regions left my brain unable to function properly and as a
consequence, I nearly had my head caved in by a tervul stick
wielding hologram..."I was distracted."

She smiled. "You certainly were."

It seemed to him her hand lingered on his face a moment
longer than was absolutely necessary, her gentle fingers
doing more to soothe his injured skin than any dermal
regenerator could.

She was so close. Her perfume, delicate and light, played
havoc with his senses. Her bright red hair was casually tied
back, but a few stray wisps refused to conform. They lay
against her neck in sinuous coppery curls. He noticed for
the first time that she was out of uniform and wearing a
dress that tried hard to be modest, but it seemed to him it
clung to her curves, highlighting the flare of her hips and
the soft swell of her breasts. Her bare leg was visible
through a slit in her skirt, only millimetres away from his
hand. If he moved even slightly he would be able to stroke
the smooth creamy skin on her leg with his fingers. His
imagination moved into overdrive and his throbbing arousal
was instantaneous.

Her eyes met his. "I could fix that for you," she said
softly.

Startled, he jumped away from her like a scolded cat.

She moved towards him. "It's very swollen, but I should be
able to make you more comfortable within seconds." She
looked around. "Do you have a medkit here in your quarters?"

--- 
Beverly 
---

He didn't answer right away and his attitude was starting to
get her irritated. "Captain, I can assure you that I am
fully capable of healing a simple contusion with a dermal
regenerator."

"Beverly, please. I'm fine," he said softly.

A delighted shiver ran through her. He had called her
Beverly! He hadn't used her first name since he'd come to
see her in sickbay. Suddenly she realised that she had never
been just Beverly to him. She had always been his best
friend's wife, then Jack's ex and more recently, 'Doctor.'

Beverly found she liked the sound of her name on his lips.
She wondered how it would feel to have him groan it
breathlessly into her ear and to hear it moaned out loud in
lust. If he hadn't distracted her in his ready room, she
could have made him do just that. She was certain of it. Oh,
he had tried very hard to control himself and keep his
demeanour detached, but when he had pressed against her
against the ready room wall, she had physical evidence of
just how much of a lie that had been. It wouldn't have taken
much effort to have cracked that rigid self control and sent
him over the edge. He would have given her what she wanted.
She knew it.

Jean-Luc was watching her. She gave him a nervous little
smile and looked down. "I think I'd better be going."

She looked up again. He was coming towards her and dear god,
she couldn't move.

"Why did you come here tonight, Beverly?" he whispered.

He watched as she struggled to find her words. "I came to
see you, to..." she cleared her throat. "To get all of this
sorted out."

He raised an eyebrow. "This?"

She gave an exasperated little sigh. "Yes." She was making a
fool of herself again.

He moved closer, an amused smile playing at the corners of
his mouth. He ran his fingers along a stray curl, pushing it
behind her ear. "Beverly, what exactly do you mean?"

"You and me, what happened in your ready room. I mean we're
both adults, we've known each other a long time and..." Her
mouth went dry. The tension between them grew.

Beverly turned away, but his hand came to rest on her waist
preventing her from moving. He was behind her now, so close
she could feel the heat of his body.

Her insides were churning. "Look, this wasn't supposed to
happen," she said lowly.

She felt him tense, but she pressed on. "Jean-Luc I'm sorry
if I gave you the wrong impression. I just came here to say
sorry for how I acted last week. Anything else is purely in
your head."

His hand left her waist. "Really?"

She turned towards him. "Yes. Really."

He sighed wearily. "All right Beverly, if that is how you
wish to play it."

She eyed him quizzically. "Play it? I don't know what you're
talking about. I'm not playing anything. You were my
husband's best friend and I don't see you as anything more
than my captain."

He swore vehemently in French.

Beverly caught her breath. "I beg your pardon?"

His eyes locked on hers. "I said, bullshit."

She was stunned. Coming from a man like the captain, this
profanity was absolutely shocking. "This is crazy!"

"I agree." But instead of abandoning the argument he closed
the space between them.

His hands reached out to cup her face and he lowered his
head until his mouth was just inches from hers. "Enough," he
said, and then his mouth was on hers.

He kissed her gently at first and then his teeth fastened
teasingly onto her bottom lip before he drew away. "Do you
want me to stop?" he said softly.

Did she? Was this really the reason she had come here? That
thought had come out of nowhere but it was impossible to
ignore. But if she stayed, what did she have to lose?

Her dignity?

Her integrity?

Her self respect?

Oh lord, what did she really want?

Beverly lifted her eyes to his and the look of fierce
arousal in them startled her. Her lips parted to protest,
but the words were never uttered because he stopped them
with a small shake of his head. "Trust me," he said.

She didn't answer. He had asked something of her that she
didn't know if she could ever give again.

With a low growl his hands cupped her bottom and he drew her
against him. There was an aching inevitability about it, as
if he as much as herself, had no control over what was
happening between them. It seemed like ever since she had
come aboard the Enterprise, they had been heading for this
moment and she knew that this time there would be no turning
back. She was past making excuses for what she now realised
was an irresistible attraction and the outcome of what they
were about to do was something she didn't want to consider
right now. All she could think of was that he wanted her as
much as she wanted him.

His mouth descended. She closed her eyes and let herself
feel the sensations of being loved by him- his firm lips,
his warm hands on her arse, the wonderful feel of him moving
against her.

The heat of his body wrapped itself around her. The kiss
deepened and lengthened as he demanded a response from her.
She gave in and kissed him hungrily, pressing her self again
him. And when his mouth left hers to fulfil her fantasy and
hotly breathe her name into her ear, she was lost.

--- 
Jean-Luc 
---

He reached up and loosened her hair so it fell around her
shoulders. His free hand cupped the side of her face, his
thumb rubbing across her mouth. He tugged her lips apart,
and felt her gently bite down on his thumb.

With the scent of her body filling his senses, he was almost
overcome by his need for her.

He wedged his leg between hers and his mouth searched for
hers again. His arousal was almost painful in its intensity,
he wanted her. No that was wrong, he needed her and, god
help him, he had to have her.

They ended up in his room. He helped her undress, his mouth
tracing a path down her body as it was slowly revealed to
him, down her throat, across her shoulders and breasts and
lower. . .  He felt her hands at the collar of his shirt,
her fingers unbuttoning, her mouth following, he held his
breath as her tongue came out to caress his flesh, then
finally there was nothing between them but the urgency of
their own needs.

He slowed himself down, wanting make this first time with
her last. He caressed her breasts and the slender curve of
her waist. He gently rolled her nipples between his thumb
and forefinger, enjoying the way she groaned and moved
beneath his hands. When his mouth returned to hers, her
response was as hot and urgent as he had hoped it would be.
His tongue slid along hers and he realised that despite his
best intentions was almost at the edge of his self control.

He wanted to be inside her, to bury himself in her. He
wanted to feel her close around him, feel her all around
him. He wanted to come inside her, drive her to the limits
of her endurance, feel her orgasm joining his.

His mouth on hers, he backed her towards the bed. He groaned
with satisfaction as she lay down upon it pulling him down
with her. He took one pale rosy nipple into his mouth. She
moaned, and he laid her back and covered her body with his.
He knew she was being controlled by her senses now and he
ran his hands over her and was rewarded by her low throaty
moans.

He eased his fingers inside her and felt her wetness. He
groaned. She was so ready for him. He had thought of this,
wanted this for so long that he almost couldn't believe that
it was real, that she would not disappear into the ether as
she had done so many times when he had awoken from his
dreams of her.

He stroked her and she jerked beneath him, her legs splaying
to give him greater access to her. She arched towards him,
her fingers reaching for him, caressing his shaft, he was
trying to take it easy but the agony of suppressing himself
became too much.

"Oh god, Beverly," he ground out. He was poised between her
legs and in one swift satisfying movement, he thrust into
her, expanding her and filling her as he had wanted to do
from the moment she had walked into his quarters.

The pleasure was intense, so erotic and sensual. He began to
move and he supported his upper body on his forearms so he
could watch her face as he took her and they became one. Her
hips met his and they were moving together, their mouths and
bodies locked in a rhythmic need for one another.

Just when his own climax approached, he felt her muscles
tightening around him. She groaned and wrapped her legs
around his hips, pulling him deeper inside her to add to her
pleasure. Her nails dug into his shoulders, driving him on
but it was the little cries that she was making that caused
him to seriously lose his reason.

He lifted his face from her breasts and let his climax take
him over the edge. He felt Beverly's shuddering orgasm along
his length as he pulsed into her again and again. Finally,
the sensation between them stilled, and he caught her mouth
in a kiss. For this moment she was his, he thought fiercely.
His lover, his woman.

"You are beautiful," he said gently, and was rewarded by her
smile.

--- 
Beverly 
---

He was talking to her, sacred things of his need for her,
how long he had wanted her, wished for her, all the things
she that she had never dared to think about, he was saying
over and over, she hadn't imagined he would be like this. He
seemed so cool, so collected and now. . . she had never
dreamed he would be so vocal, all those words of desire and
lust driving her to a peak of arousal that she had never
experience before. She wanted him, it was all she could do
not to rip his clothes off, but he had stilled her hands,
told her that he wanted to take this slowly, but she saw the
fire in his eyes as he watched her undress him. She smiled
at his intake of breath as she knelt before him to remove
his briefs. She lowered them slowly, achingly over his
hardened desire. She kissed him there, allowing her tongue
to slick wetly down and over his erection, before she
trailed a path back up to his mouth.

His control finally snapped and he lowered her backwards
onto the bed. The quilt had been cool against the skin of
her back, but she hardly noticed. His hands roved over her
finding the curve of her breasts, the firmness of her
stomach and then lower to run delicately up her thigh. Her
breath came in gasps, her body arched. She had waited long
enough.

It had been some time since she had given herself to a
lover, and her sudden gasp as he had entered her had soon
turned into a moan of pleasure as he had started moving, the
delicious friction building and quickly sending them both
over the edge.

When it was over, she felt his mouth on hers and then he was
talking again, and it felt so right laying in his arms, his
face looking down at her with such tenderness, that she
smiled at him. Jean-Luc gathered to her to him, and for the
first time in a very long time, Beverly Howard slept
soundly.

--- 
Jean-Luc
---

Jean-Luc woke early. His first conscious thought was of
Beverly. He rolled over and held his breath. She was still
here with him, it hadn't been a dream. He couldn't stop
himself from running his hands over her, and couldn't resist
placing his mouth against her neck. He tasted her and she
gave out a sexy little groan, he felt his self control
slipping severely. He gently traced a finger along her
cheek. Her eyes were still closed and he wished she'd open
them. Last night had been everything he had ever hoped for.
He had no regrets, he couldn't and wouldn't be sorry. He
wanted to tell her how he felt, but she was so soundly
asleep he chose not to disturb her. He would set the table
for breakfast and have a shower. When she woke up he would
talk with her, and he would make love to her again. Then
they could eat together and hopefully not be too late for
duty.

He pulled on his robe and left the bedroom. Smiling as he
thought of her, he set the table for two, adding a single
rose in a vase for her side of the table. Then he headed for
the shower, stopping to kiss Beverly softly on his way.

--- 
Beverly 
---

She was having the most erotic dream. Hands were running
over her, soft touches that made her gasp in arousal. Then
the hands were joined by a mouth that kissed and nipped.

She sighed sensuously.

She opened her eyes.

It took her a moment to remember where she was. Then it all
came back in a rush. She groaned. Beverly took a peep at the
space next to her in the bed. It was mercifully empty. She
heard the shower running. Nervous tension was building up in
the pit of her stomach. What the hell was she going to say
to him? Thanks for the sex; it's been along time and wow,
what a way to make a comeback! She had only been aboard a
few weeks, pretty fast work for someone who had been
celibate for longer than she cared to remember. The
attraction she felt for him had overwhelmed her and made her
act totally out of character.

She got out of bed and scrambled around for her clothes. She
found them lying where they had been shed- on his side of
the bed. She blushed crimson. Oh how could she have done
this to herself and to him? She had slept with her captain,
and now she was going to betray his trust. She winced a
little as she put her clothes on. She had used some muscles
last night she hadn't used in a while.

She snuck out of the bedroom and made for the door. On the
way she passed the table. It had been set for two. She
paused; somehow that table seemed to signify everything that
she was so damn scared of. It was too intimate, too full on
and much too soon. When she had longed to get a sexual itch
scratched last night she hadn't wanted to stop and consider
the outcome of her recklessness. Now she was confronted by
it in all of its painful clarity. She didn't want to hurt
him but she just couldn't stay. She needed space, needed to
think, and needed to get the hell away.

She fled.

--- 
Jean-Luc 
---

He finished his shower. He had decided what they would have
for breakfast. He remembered that one time, years ago that
she had said she liked an old traditional breakfast food
called toast, with strawberry jam. But then he remembered so
many things about her, little things, like the way she had
worn her hair the first time he had ever met her and how she
had lowered her head shyly when she laughed. He also
remembered too clearly, his jealousy at seeing her fall in
love with and marry his best friend so many years ago.

He had only heard sporadically from Jack Crusher since his
divorce from Beverly and his re-marriage five years ago. And
from Beverly he had heard nothing, until her name had been
put forward as the favoured doctor for the position of CMO
on his ship. He had debated her appointment with himself
bitterly, torn between the temptation to have her with him,
to be able to see her everyday and the more practical
problems that his feelings for her would cause him. In the
end he had protested the appointment, but not vetoed it
entirely, leaving that decision in the lap of the gods.

And the gods had for once smiled on him.

Humming to himself, happier than he had been in a long time
he left the bathroom. He stopped short and his fragile
happiness died in its infancy. The bed was empty. The living
area was empty.

She had gone.

Disappointment hit him, sent him reeling in its intensity.
He knew violence then. His fingers itched to pick up the
plate in front of him, hurl it through the air and watch it
smash against the wall. He clenched his fists and forced
himself to think clearly. He knew Beverly, it was not like
her to do something as hurtful as this. Something was wrong
here, very wrong. And he was going to find out exactly what
it was.

By the time he had rounded the corner to sickbay, he was
calm. Dead calm. It was three quarters of an hour before the
start of duty, but he knew she would be here. She was like
him. Work provided a salve for all manner of ills. He knew
exactly where he would find her.

He halted at the entrance to sickbay and noticed with
satisfaction that it was empty.

That would mean that doctor Howard would be in her office,
just as he had thought.

He had come here officially to get medical attention for the
side of his face, and unofficially, he wanted some answers.

She had a pile of work on her desk. But she wasn't sitting
at it. She was facing away from him, her hip propped up on
one corner of the desk. She was staring into space, a cup of
coffee in her hand.

He cleared his throat.

Beverly lurched so violently that the hot liquid in the cup
slopped over the side. "Shit," she said. "You frightened me.
Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He wanted to smile. But he kept his face impassive. His
voice was formal. "I require treatment, Doctor, for my
face."

He watched as she placed her cup down on the desk. "Of
course, Captain."

She motioned for him to follow her out into sickbay but he
didn't move.

"I would prefer to be treated here, Doctor," he said softly.

Her mouth tightened. "As you wish." She disappeared into
sickbay and returned a moment later with a dermal
regenerator. She carefully healed the contusion, making sure
not to touch him this time, he noted grimly.

He looked her in the eye. "Well, Beverly," he drawled
suddenly, "is this how it is going to be between us,
hostility in public and passion in private?"

Beverly swallowed. "There was no passion, there will be no
more private," she snapped.

"How can such a beautiful mouth lie so much?" he said
coolly, moving towards her.

Beverly backed away.

He smiled cynically. "Stop backing away from me, you only
make me want you more by doing that. You should know after
last night, that is not the way to keep me away from you."

"Then tell me the way, and I'll use it," she said and then
gasped as her back hit the door frame and she was trapped."

"There is no way, Beverly," he said under his breath as his
body touched hers.

There was a long tense silence.

When he spoke his voice was soft. "You left in rather a
hurry this morning, didn't you?" He expected no answer from
her and none was forthcoming. He pressed on. "What is it,
why are you so frightened of what happened between us? I
asked you to trust me. I could never hurt you."

He could see her temper flaring. "Jean-Luc, please!" she
said fiercely. She lowered her voice to a vehement whisper
and avoided answering him outright. "There will be no more
us!"

He drew a deep breath. "Then why did you let it go so far
between us last night?"

She tried to shrug nonchalantly. "I'm human, I occasionally
find myself giving in to temptation."

"Occasionally?" His voice deepened as his struggled to
understand her. "What do you mean? Do you do this all the
time�let men take you to bed for the night?"

"No," she said, her voice furious. "I have never done
anything quite this foolish before, and I hate myself for
having done it now."

He was stunned. "You expect me to believe that you were just
amusing yourself with me, is that it?"

She remained silent.

"I do not believe that of you, Beverly Howard. Now you will
come to me tonight and you will talk. I will listen. You
will tell me what has happened to you to make you act like
this." He finally moved away from her.

"You don't need to wait until tonight. I will tell you right
now who did this to me, who hurt me so badly that I don't
think I will ever get over it." She turned to him, her eyes
burning with emotion. "It was my husband."

He stared at her in disbelief.

Her face was hard. "Yes, Jean-Luc, it was Jack. So now you
know, you can go. There is nothing else to say."

Jean-Luc stared down at her, for a moment he was rigid with
shock, his mouth a hard white line.

"Your husband?" he asked her hoarsely. "Jack did this to
you?"

She nodded, her eyes closed. "I can't talk about this now.
Please understand that."

Jean-Luc was still shaking his head. "He hurt you that
badly?'

Beverly gave a broken little laugh. "A wise woman once said,
'more tears are shed over answered prayers, than unanswered
ones.' And I can tell you from bitter experience that she
was right." She looked at him sadly. "I'll see you tonight.
I owe you that much." And slinging the dermal regenerator on
her desk, she walked out of her office.

The BLTS Archive - What Falls Behind - Part Three
by RosyRock (rosyrock1968 @ yahoo.com.au)

---
Disclaimers and summary in part one
---
Beverly
---

After duty, Beverly escaped to her quarters. She lay down on
her bed, the beginnings of nasty headache forming. She knew
she could easily disperse the pain with a hypospray, but
perversely she didn't want to. She wanted to feel it. Let
the pain wash over her. Punish herself with it. She wondered
idly what the new Betazoid counsellor would make of that.

She asked the computer to lower the lights and closed her
eyes. She tried to do the relaxation exercises that she had
been taught years ago to help with the stress caused by her
destructive marriage.

She tried to let her mind drift, allowing it to empty, but
it kept rebelliously returning to Jean-Luc. She gave up and
turned her thoughts to him. She knew inside she was locked
up and suffocated by layers of hurt. Was he the one who
could help her, make her forget the damage caused by her
ruined marriage? Jean-Luc had seemed truly concerned about
her, and he was so different to Jack. But then again, was he
really? Her husband had once been gentle; he had once
whispered words of love, promised to cherish her, to keep
himself only for her. Ha! What hollow promises they had
been.

She felt a surge of bitterness. Jack had fooled her, but he
had been able to fool everyone, Jean-Luc included. It had
been obvious this morning that he had no idea about the
state her marriage had been in, but Jean-Luc had been Jack's
friend, he would have heard what Jack wanted to tell him.
She sighed and rolled onto her side. Beverly thought back to
the beginnings of her wreck of a marriage. She had so many
dreams, stupid wide eyed dreams�a fairy tale happy marriage,
a wonderful relationship with a man who loved her, a child
made out of that love. Her hand wandered to rest down low on
her stomach, a soft lingering touch as she remembered the
child that had once lain in her womb. Oh, how she still
grieved the loss of her baby, the derailment of all her
dreams and hopes.

The tears came then, for her unborn baby and for what might
have been. She curled her legs up until her knees were under
her chin and keened mindlessly, frantic sobs wracking her
body.

Eventually, she fell into a fitful slumber, dreaming of a
baby's desperate cries and the sorrow of a thousand
shattered hopes.

The door was chiming.

It registered in the recesses of Beverly's mind. She opened
her eyes and sat up. The niggle that had started as an
annoying hindrance had now turned into a full blown
headache. She sat up, rubbing her temples. The door chimed
again. "Go away," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around
herself, lowered her head and sat rocking backwards and
forwards on the edge of the bed.

--- 
Jean-Luc
---

He was worried. He had tried to contact her and she wasn't
answering her comm badge.

Now he was standing outside of her quarters, leaning on the
door chime. After the fifth attempt he used his override to
get in. Her quarters were in darkness, but there was a faint
light coming from the bedroom. He found her sitting on the
edge of the bed curled into a tight ball. He felt fear grip
him. Had he driven her to this? He instinctively wrapped his
arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "Beverly, are
you all right?" he asked softly.

She raised her head and he swore softly under his breath.
She was not alright, far from it. She tried to smile. "I'm
fine, Jean-Luc. I just have a headache."

His fingers gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "You've
been crying."

She didn't deny it.

"I waited for you. When you didn't come, I got worried. I
used my override to get in."

Beverly stood, brushing his hands away. "I fell asleep. I'm
sorry if you were worried. I lost track of time. I'm fine
now. I'll get a hypospray for this headache and then..." her
hand flew to her temple and she swallowed. "I will be okay."

He looked at her doubtfully. "You stay there. Tell me where
the medication is and I'll get it for you."

She sighed. "Top drawer." She motioned to the dressing
table.

Jean-Luc opened the drawer, he pushed things aside and found
the hypospray and then he paused, his hand stilled.
Disturbed by his rummaging was a small article of clothing.
A tiny little baby's shoe, lovingly hand knitted. He picked
it up, and smiled. It was obviously a keepsake from
Beverly's childhood. He turned towards her, and gave her the
hypospray with one hand, the tiny bootie dangling from his
finger by its ribbon in his other hand.

"You must have once had very small feet to have fit this
little shoe, Beverly. It looks handmade, did your maman knit
this for you when you a baby?"

He looked to her, and his words died in his throat at the
stricken look on her face.

Beverly shook her head, and the hypospray fell out of her
hand to the floor. "No," she whispered, "that was never
meant for me." She took the tiny shoe from his hand. "I
knitted this myself, for my son."

He was incredulous. "You and Jack had a son?"

"I had a son, yes. He was stillborn at 20 weeks."

Jean-Luc grappled with the enormity of this information.
Beverly had lost a child and Jack had never told him? He
shook his head. It was unbelievable. "I never knew that
Beverly, I am so very sorry."

Beverly's voice grew bitter. "It was probably my greatest
failure in our whole marriage as far as Jack was concerned,
the fact that I killed his child."

He was shocked. "You can't mean that."

"After I lost the baby, there was found to be some
abnormalities in the placenta. In Jack's eyes, that made me
responsible."

Jean-Luc put his hand over hers. "Well, Jack was wrong." He
picked up the hypospray and handed it to her gently. "Take
this. Then we will talk some more." He smiled at her
reassuringly. "I will wait out there."

He left her in the bedroom. He sat on the sofa, his head in
his hands. He was staggered by what she had told him.
Beverly and Jack had a son? Why had Jack never even told him
about Beverly's pregnancy? He was beginning to think that he
had never really known Jack Crusher at all.

He looked up as Beverly entered the room. He noted with
relief that she was looking a little better.

She smiled briefly at him. "Would you like something to eat,
or maybe a drink?" She said politely.

Jean-Luc could see she was desperate for something to do, so
he asked her for tea. She made herself busy at the
replicator and returned with two steaming cups of the
beverage. She sat on the sofa opposite him and placed her
cup on the low table in front of her. Jean-Luc sat back and
sipped his tea, giving her time to continue her
conversation.

She exhaled. "I thought that after I had lost my parents on
Arveda III that nothing could ever hurt me like that again,
but I was very wrong."

Jean-Luc sat up straight. "You were a colonist there?"

Beverly nodded. "I lived through it. I was later evacuated
to Caldos, after what I had seen on Arveda, I developed a
burning desire to be a doctor. I entered Medical School as
soon as I could and I studied hard. I had no time for
anything else."

"You had time for Jack," he said flatly.

Beverly looked at him and her eyes narrowed, he wondered if
she had heard the tiny tinge of envy in his voice. "Jack
pursued me, not the other way around. To me he seemed too
brash, just too good looking, a larrikin, not my type at all
really."

Jean-Luc felt a compulsion then to ask her what type of man
she was drawn to. But he quelled it savagely.

She gave a derisive shake of her head. "Do you know that I
was still a virgin until I met Jack? I'd never been with
anyone else. At first I think I was bit of a challenge to
him. The girl he couldn't lay. Isn't that pathetic?"

He smiled at her. "No it's not. You offered him a very
special gift."

She shrugged. "Well, he finally caught up with me. He became
my first lover, but I don't know why he decided to marry me,
I think that maybe I was some kind of trophy for him,
something that you take down from the shelf and dust off,
admire, and put away again."

She was lost in thought. "He was an extremely jealous man. I
have no idea why. I never cheated on him. I never even came
close. But he would accuse me of seeing other men." She
looked at the wall over his shoulder, remembering. "He would
check up on me constantly. He was convinced I even had a
thing for y. . . " She broke off, her eyes glanced back to
him and she blushed. She changed the subject. "He was away
from home so often and that didn't help matters much. He
wanted children badly. Maybe he thought if I got pregnant
and had a child to look after I would be too busy to think
about other men. I wanted a baby too, but for completely
different reasons. I was trying to save my marriage by this
stage."

She shook her head.

"I went off of birth control. I planned a week away, a big
seduction scene. And it worked. I got pregnant straight
away. He wasn't as happy as I thought he would be. I found
out later that he had thought I had fallen pregnant too
easily; too conveniently, he had suspicions that the child
might have been somebody else's. Of course it wasn't as the
tests I did to appease him later showed. My baby was his.
Right about the time he had started to accept this, I had
the first scare of my pregnancy. I started bleeding. I had
treatment and everything seemed fine. I had such plans, so
many dreams. I really thought that this baby would bring
Jack and I back together, that I had at last gotten
something right. That I had finally pleased him." She choked
back a sob. "Then one horrible afternoon at about 20 weeks,
I realised that I hadn't felt the baby move all day. I just
had this feeling that something was terribly wrong. I was
too panicky to scan myself so I got my own doctor to do it."

Her voice became detached, clinical.

"I knew what had happened by the look on her face. My worst
fears were confirmed. The baby was dead. I was put into
labour and my child was stillborn. By the time Jack arrived
home, it was all over; our son had been born and buried.
When he was told why I had lost the baby, he blamed me. My
body had let our child down. I had killed his little boy. He
withdrew from me, he wouldn't touch me. He never slept with
me again. Soon after, I found out he had started seeing
someone else." Her voice cracked and a tear slid over her
lashes and down her cheek.

Jean-Luc felt murder in his blood. How could Jack have done
this to her? Abandoned her when she needed him most? He
struggled to keep his voice calm. "What did you do when you
found about this other woman?"

"I confronted him," she breathed sadly, closing her eyes.
"And he said. . . he said. . . " Beverly broke off, her
emotional agony making her put her hands over her face.

Jean-Luc came over and sat next to her, his hand rested on
her leg, offering comfort.

"Tell me," he said gently. "Let me help you."

Beverly swallowed, and then whispered. "He said that I had
killed his child and to look at me now made him sick. He
told me I was hopeless in bed and out of it, I had driven
him to cheat, that had no idea how to satisfy a man, any
man, least of all him." She looked at him sadly. "I fell
apart. He left me to be with her. Last I heard she had given
him the son that he so desperately wanted."

--- 
Beverly 
---

She sat quietly, her head bowed. The torrent of words was
over, the emotional dam now empty. She didn't know what she
wanted from Jean-Luc. But she did know that the sordid
details of her marriage would probably scare him away at
light speed. She almost expected to turn her head and see
the sofa next to her empty. She was just waiting for him to
make his excuses and leave. In her head, she was already
going over the polite words she would use when she met him
next and he awkwardly avoided her eyes. What she didn't
expect was that he would kneel in front of her and gently
call her name. That his fingers would softly slide under her
chin and raise her head up to his kiss. That his lips would
move delicately over her face, his tiny kisses drying her
tears, before returning to her mouth, or that this last kiss
would be as gentle and soothing as his soft velvety voice.

His lips left hers and she heard him sigh. "Beverly, you
have shared with me your secrets. Now I will do the same. I
have something I need to tell you, something I have wanted
to tell you from the first time I ever met you. So many
times I tried, but I was a coward. I sat by and said nothing
and let you marry Jack and I sat by again while he hurt you.
I hope you can forgive me that." His fingers gently pushed
her hair from her face and when he spoke his voice nearly
broke with emotion. "Beverly, I have wished for so long to
have the chance to tell you this, to let you know how much I
love you. . . Please believe me, I don't want to cause you
anymore pain. I only ask that you will allow me the chance
to love you as you deserve."

Beverly felt her breath leave her in a shocked rush. How
could this be? All this time he had cared for her, loved her
quietly from afar? She didn't know what to say. Did she dare
do as he asked and commit herself to him, place her trust in
him? Beverly could see the truth of his words reflected in
his grey eyes and she felt it then, the tiny bubble of hope,
the chance to let the past fall behind her. Did she have the
courage to reach out to him, to let this gentle, reserved
man reach into the places in her heart she had sought for
long to keep cold and buried?

She watched his face as he kneeled before her. His love
could be a poison, but it could also be the very antidote
that saved her. Her broken heart yearned for him and her
soul, driven by need, cried out for him. Let him be the one,
oh god, please let it be real this time.

She held out her hand to him. "Show me Jean-Luc, I want you
to show me your love."

He took her hand and stood, pulling her to him. He held her
against him, and then he lowered his head to claim her
mouth. He parted her lips and she felt the heat in her veins
as he kissed her.

Once they were in her bedroom, she stood in front of him,
watching his reaction as she slowly undid the fastening of
her dress. He remained where he was, very still, staring at
her. The dress fell softly from her shoulders and she slid
it slowly down her hips and let it fall to the floor. She
heard the intake of his breath as she put her hands on his
shoulders and let them slide sensuously down his body. "Love
me," she said softly.

His hands traced the soft curve of her face and the
sensation sent an erotic electric pulse though her.
Jean-Luc's fingers trailed a path down and then his hands
cupped her breasts through her bra. Her body responded
immediately to the caress and her nipples hardened tightly
with need.

His hands went up to the straps of the bra. He hooked his
fingers underneath and slid the straps down her arms. His
hands then went lower to slide her underwear slowly, very
slowly over her hips. She stood still and he returned to her
bra and unfastened it and with an impatient sweep of his
hand he pulled it aside, and let it fall to the floor,
exposing her naked body to his gaze. Slowly, deliberately,
he let his eyes travel down her. "Ah, Beverly, je te veux,"
he whispered. "I want you."

Beverly moved towards him and they kissed deeply. She could
feel him unbuttoning his shirt and heard it fall softly to
the floor. She felt his fingers begin to unfasten his
trousers. Her hands reached out, helping him and she sighed
with pleasure when his was finally as naked as she. She ran
her hands over his hard chest feeling with growing
excitement the rapid thump of his heart.

Jean-Luc pushed her onto the bed. He straddled her, and his
hands moved over her naked breasts. She gave a small gasp as
he stroked the silky texture of her skin. He circled her
nipples with the tips of his thumbs. He bent his head and
let his tongue run over an engorged peak. His lips closed
over it and then he was sucking, kissing, driving her mad
with need. Her fingers instinctively stroked her other
breast as she tried to satisfy the ache building inside her,
He sensed her need and his mouth moved to close hungrily
over the other breast, his teeth grazed over the sensitive
flesh before he drew it in and began to suckle. Beverly felt
a mindless need to have him inside her. She heard herself
asking him to pleasure her and she felt his fingers softly
touch the silky triangle of hair between her legs. She
moaned and bit down on her lip as he started to stroke her
there. His mouth moved down from her breasts over the soft
skin of her belly, kissing, licking, lingering lower and
lower until he was between her thighs. He looked up to her.
"Let me love you like this," he growled and she could only
nod her head. His hands slid under her, bringing her closer
to him and then he was kissing her there and his tongue was
deep inside her, thrusting, loving, satisfying. Beverly's
hips moved her in a sensual rhythm against his mouth. Her
hands clenched and her body arched. All too soon she could
feel herself at the brink of orgasm.

Her needs grew urgent. "Please, Jean-Luc, I want to come
with you inside me."

She felt him pull away and his mouth was replaced by his
rigid desire against her hot open flesh. He pushed inside
her slowly, making her feel every inch of him. When at last
he filled her she shuddered in delicious pleasure and gave
out a long, shaking cry of intense fulfilment. Her arms went
around him and she felt his hand move down to the bud of
flesh between her thighs. He kissed her deeply, sharing the
taste of her body with her, and she moaned into his mouth as
he stroked her.

His voice was hot in her ear as he told her of the things he
wanted to do to her, asking her again and again if she
wanted it, needed it..

She cried out, "Yes, oh yes," and then she was coming,
moaning in agonised release, every muscle gripped with hot
endless spasms, until she rocked to a standstill of sexual
satisfaction and opened her eyes.

With a long fierce groan she felt Jean-Luc drive into her,
seeking his own release. His lips nuzzled the skin above her
collarbone on her shoulder. She turned her head, giving him
greater access to her neck and as his climax approached he
pulled her flesh into his mouth, leaving the mark of his
passion there. She listened to his carnal words of lust as
he cried out and spilled inside her and with every pulsing
thrust she heard him call her name.

---
Jean-Luc
---

They decided to keep their affair quiet. They continued to
see each other in private, but in front of the crew they
remained as detached from their emotions as it was possible
to be.

She continued to treat him with strict icy formality, and
he, whilst smiling on the inside, did the same. The months
passed and their relationship deepened. It became the single
most fulfilling thing in his life. He was with Beverly every
night. Sometimes they just talked and listened to music,
other times he would read to her, sharing his passion for
literature. Most often, however, they would make love. He
found he could never get enough of her body. He had the
driving need to show her over and over how much pleasure the
two of them could make together.

He watched, gratified as the scars left by the past seemed
to be fading. The dark shadows of her marriage retreating.

He began to debate the pros and cons of making their
relationship known to the crew. He had fallen so deeply for
her that it was becoming hard to maintain his stern control
over his feelings in public. With a very canny Betazoid
counsellor on board, Jean-Luc was expending a lot of his
mental energy on maintaining the mask of indifference
towards his CMO.

In the end, the decision was made for him. Towards the end
of a trying day, Beverly had come to see him to deliver a
report that necessitated his perusal and approval. When the
doors to his ready room had opened and she had walked in, he
felt his mood lighten instantly. She waited until the doors
had shut securely behind her before she had given him a
smile that sent his blood pulsing downwards.

"Captain," she said.

"Doctor," he countered.

"I have something here that you said you needed." She was
waving the padd in her hand, but her eyes were locked on
his.

He swallowed, trying hard to keep his unruly thoughts en
guard for counsellor Troi's benefit. "Thank you, Doctor.
That will be all," he said levelly.

"You look tired, Captain."

"Is that your medical opinion, Doctor, or a personal one?"

A imp of mischief lit her eyes. "Oh, definitely a personal
one, Captain."

"Beverly." He had lowered his voice, adding a touch of
gentle warning to his tone.

She smiled teasingly. "Yes, sir?"

He laughed. He couldn't help himself, and then he was out of
his chair and she was in his arms, his mouth on hers. Just
this one time I will indulge her, he told himself. He gave
in and allowed himself enjoy the feel of her, his hand
running down her back to cup her bottom.

Then unexpectedly the ready room door opened to admit a
stunned Counsellor Troi.

Jean-Luc almost tripped over himself in his haste to push
Beverly aside.

Counsellor Troi's gaze serenely took in the situation before
her. "I rang the chime. I assumed. . . " She stopped short.
"It can wait captain. I will come back at a more opportune
time."

Jean-Luc looked to Beverly, then back to the counsellor.

"Please, Counsellor Troi, stay."

He saw Beverly nod her head. "Yes. I was just leaving." She
cleared her throat. "I think that will be all, Captain. I
hope the report was helpful." She smiled briefly at Troi,
and then practically ran out of the room.

Coward, he thought with gallows humour.

His eyes turned back to the counsellor. He sat back down in
his chair. "Please, have a seat."

She sat down gracefully, opposite him, her dark eyes
expressionless.

Jean-Luc shifted in his chair, he laced his fingers together
and rested them on his desk. He looked at her coolly. "I
think I owe you an explanation for what you witnessed just
then. The doctor and I were acquainted before her assignment
here. But our relationship is now more intimate." He sat
back. "I can assure you that our personal involvement does
in no way affect how we perform our duties aboard the
Enterprise. What you witnessed just now, whilst we were on
duty, was an aberration and I can assure you it will not
occur again. I also want you to know that I am giving you
this information in the strictest confidence. It is to be
kept to yourself and used only in your capacity as ship's
counsellor."

She kept her gaze upon him and he couldn't help but think
that she was taking a moment to empathically judge the
truthfulness of his statement. To his surprise, Troi smiled.
"May I speak freely, sir?"

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

Counsellor Troi leaned forward a little. "In fairness,
Captain, I have at certain times perceived from both the
Doctor and yourself a distinct sense of 'interest' in the
other that went beyond the usual relationship between CMO
and Captain. But I had thought that this stemmed from your
previous association. I can truthfully say that I had no
idea until just now that your feelings for each other went
any further than that."

She looked at him, the same small smile lighting her
features. "Although Starfleet does not actively condone
fraternisation between officers, it does not have any strict
rules forbidding it either. And I can honestly say in this
case. I see no cause for concern. You are both senior
officers, you have the maturity to put personal matters
aside when needs be, and. . . " She sat back, a trace of
humour in her voice. "If you could keep this personal
relationship from me, there is no way anyone else on board
will be aware of the situation, unless you choose to make it
so."

Jean-Luc found himself amused at her use of the pun. "Thank
you, Counsellor." He said gratefully. "You are dismissed."

---
Beverly
---

Beverly looked at Jean-Luc over her glass of wine. He was
regarding her sternly. She sighed. "Are you angry at me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Now why would I be angry at you?"

She chewed her lip. He had a habit of doing this to her,
laying a verbal trap and just watching and waiting for her
to fall in. "I sort of ran out on you this afternoon." She
watched as he sat back.

"Sort of?"

Beverly blushed. "Ok. I did run out on you."

He took a sip of wine. "Yes, you certainly did. You
conveniently disappeared, leaving me to explain how I came
to have my hand on my CMO's arse to one very stunned
counsellor."

Beverly snickered in spite of herself. "I am truly sorry,
Jean-Luc," she said, trying to contain her humour.

He lowered his glass. "Well you see, Doctor, the problem is
I don't think that a mere verbal apology is going to be good
enough. You are the reason that I came to have my hand on
that part of your anatomy in the first place. You tempted me
beyond endurance, and on duty too." He shook his head. "I'm
afraid that you will have to do penance. Come here."

Beverly took one last sip of her wine and placed the glass
on the table. She rose from her chair and walked towards
him. He reached for her and drew her into his lap.

"For your sins you are going to have to. . . " he whispered
wickedly into her ear and she blushed.

"Jean-Luc!" she choked out. "That is the dirtiest thing that
I have ever heard a man say."

"Does that mean no?"

She smiled and started to undo her blouse. "I never said
that." She stood up and faced him undoing the remaining
buttons one by one.

He was galvanised into action. He stood and reached for her
and they fell onto the sofa. She felt his hands walking
around, and she stretched giving him greater access to her
breasts.

His mouth was on hers and Beverly was just easing his shirt
out his trousers when the terminal in his quarters chirped.

Jean-Luc groaned and stood, unconsciously tucking in his
shirt. He turned to Beverly.

"Perfect timing." He glanced at the terminal. "It's a
priority communique."

She smiled resignedly. "Go answer it then."

She watched as he sighed and walked over to the terminal.
She got her wine glass and refilled it; then she went over
to the bookcase and studied the various titles, marvelling
at his love of old fashioned paper books. A volume of
Shakespeare's love sonnets caught her eye. She remembered
the way he had looked at her when he had read to her from
that particular book. The thought of it still made her toes
curl. She hadn't felt so happy in a long time. Jean-Luc had
managed to gently restore her self esteem. He made her feel
attractive, even desirable. She smiled to herself and
blushed. He certainly seemed to enjoy having sex with her.
They made love all night sometimes, and he was always very
vocal in his enjoyment of her body. All the French she had
learned from him was absolutely obscene.

She shivered at the thought of being with him again tonight,
sharing his bed letting him do those things to her that
drove her wild. She had never enjoyed sex with her ex
husband this much. But then, Jack had not been the most
considerate lover and at the time she had no comparison to
judge him by. He had always fulfilled himself first and
sometimes she had almost screamed in frustration at his
insensitivity to her needs. He had told her that it was her
own inadequacies that had resulted in her not being able to
get pleasure from sex, and she had foolishly believed him.
After all, she had no experience and their first time
together had been very unsatisfying for her. He had hurt her
and instead of gently offering comfort he had just kept on
driving into her body until she had cried out in pain. She
shook herself. She was not going to let Jack cast his shadow
over her now. All she wanted was to be with Jean-Luc, to let
him love her and to give him love in return. She knew
exactly when she had realised that she had fallen for him.
That night when he had kneeled in front of her and taken her
hand, she had given him her heart as well. God knows what
she would do without him. She shivered at the sudden feeling
of foreboding. What was the ancient saying? 'Someone walking
over your grave.' She pushed the morbid thought aside. She
was here now and had no plans to be anywhere else.

She felt Jean-Luc come up behind her, but there was no hug,
no caress. Puzzled she turned around and looked into his
eyes. She could see he had bad news. She remembered the
communique and her heart fell. She tried to lighten things
with a smile, but it died on her lips as he spoke.

---
Jean-Luc
---

She was standing at the bookcase, wine glass in hand. He
noticed that she hadn't bothered to re-button her blouse and
it kept giving him the most enticing glimpses of flesh as
she moved. She was the most sensual woman he had ever met,
and yet she was totally unaware of it. She hadn't left her
blouse open to tempt him, he was sure. She had no idea how
hard she made it for him to concentrate. He couldn't believe
how na�ve she was in some ways. She blushed so easily, but
in bed. . .  he sighed with relish. He had such pleasure in
teaching her how to let a man love her. And she was a very
fast learner.

He went to the terminal. The communique was terse,
unforgiving in its briefness. He grew numb. He re-read it.
He exhaled raggedly.

It was from Starfleet Medical. Admiral Sylvia Rourke had
personally requested and approved the secondment of Dr
Beverly Howard to Starfleet headquarters to take charge of a
confidential research project.

Effective immediately. Duration unknown.

He looked over to her. She had her back to him and she was
running her finger down the spine of one of his favourite
books. He swallowed down his own dismay and disappointment
and headed towards her. He came to stand behind her. He
didn't move, just stood and watched her, wanting to remember
her like this.

She turned and smiled. He felt his face grow grim. He
watched pained, as the playful smile fled from her face.

He told her, gave her the news of her reassignment, and saw
his own gut emotions mirrored in her face- disbelief, sorrow
and then finally grim resignation.

This would be their last night together.

In the end they had made love desperately, tinged with the
knowledge that they would not be together again for god
alone knew how long. He had been content at first to just
lay with her, gently memorising the feel of her creamy skin
and the scent of her body, running his hands over her,
kissing her. But Beverly had wanted more. She caught up his
hands and placed them on her breasts. She had used her hands
and mouth to arouse him and had rolled him over until he was
beneath her on the bed; then she had taken him, lowering
herself onto him, claiming him. She had made love to him
urgently, rocking her hips backwards and forwards, her head
thrown back in sexual abandonment until just before her
orgasm had gripped her and then she had looked into his
eyes, letting him see how he had pleasured her. Her mouth
had dropped open in a sensual gasp, she had looked into his
soul and given him his farewell gift. She told him that she
loved him.

---
Beverly
---

All the long way back to Earth, she had kept herself
detached and composed. She had rendezvoused with a Vulcan
research ship for the first half of her trip and had then
been transported on the final leg by the USS Melbourne. She
reached Starfleet HQ on a windy, rainy afternoon. When she
arrived at Medical she was surprised to be advised that she
would not be briefed on her new assignment until that
evening over dinner. She was puzzled by the cloak and dagger
elements behind this new posting. To pull the CMO from the
flagship of the fleet only months into her new assignment to
work on unspecified research? Obviously somebody up high had
pulled some very powerful strings to swing this.

It made her slightly nervous and more than a little
uncomfortable.

She had met Admiral Rourke briefly many years ago, she had a
reputation for being a brilliant doctor and medical
researcher par excellence, but Beverly had no idea why the
woman had taken such a personal interest in appointing her
as the head of this research program. Maybe tonight she
would find out more. She sighed tiredly, like just what the
hell she was supposed to be working on.

She spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking and settling
into her new quarters. Once she had finished that, she
decided to look into some preliminary research material she
had been given. She made her self a cup of tea and sat down
to read the information. All the research had been gathered
by a woman named Nova Latham. Even in its preliminary
stages, the work was engrossing, it ran into many thousands
of hours of research, the outline of which included work on
neurodegenerative disorders and inherited autosomal dominant
diseases. Beverly wondered if she would get to meet Ms
Latham tonight. Her work was almost driven in its depth and
intensity, and yet curiously, it remained unfinished. She
speculated that maybe she was going to be called upon to
help in its completion, but why would this field of study be
important enough to pull her form her posting on the
Enterprise? It just didn't make sense.

Later that evening as she was shown to her table for dinner,
she was startled to find that it was set in an intimate
section of what had turned out to be a rather small
restaurant. She was even more perturbed to find that the
table had been set for two people only. Beverly had expected
to meet some of her research team tonight. Obviously that
was not going to be the case. She sat down and ordered a
glass of white wine while she waited.

She spent her time quietly observing the comings and goings
of the other patrons and had just allowed herself a moment
to let her thoughts dwell on Jean-Luc, when a shadow had
fallen across the table. She looked up with a smile, only to
have it freeze on her face.

She felt her world tilt on its side for a moment before it
righted itself. "Jack."

He smiled at her and sat down in the seat opposite. "You
have absolutely no idea how many asses I had to kiss to get
you here."

For a moment, Beverly was literally too shocked for words.
What did he mean, he had brought her here? She watched as
Jack settled into his chair. A waiter had appeared seemingly
out of nowhere, and Jack chatted with him for a few seconds
before turning back to her.

"Do you want another drink?"

Was he kidding? Beverly had never needed a drink more. But a
clear head being more important, she politely declined and
asked for a glass of iced water instead. Jack ordered
himself a straight Scotch. The waiter nodded and
disappeared.

Jack turned to her; his eyes looked her up and down before
he spoke. "You are looking truly wonderful, Bev."

She shook her head. Flattery would get him nowhere "What the
hell are you doing here, Jack?"

He gave her a teasing look. "Having dinner with you," he
said drolly.

He got no further, Beverly cut him off. "What the hell is
going on here Jack Crusher? I get yanked from the Enterprise
because of some research assignment and I come to this place
to be briefed on my new posting, only to end up having
dinner with my ex husband. Can you give me one good reason
not to get up and walk out of here?"

"I requested you for this personal project because you are
the best. I had Sylvia put her butt on the line to set the
whole thing up." He looked at her intently. "And my son
desperately needs you. That's three very good reasons right
there."

For a dreadful moment she was confused by his meaning. "But
our son is dead."

His voice grew soft. "No, my son, Jacob."

She was reeling. "Jacob?" She shook her head. She felt like
she was performing in a play and she was the only actor
without a script. "I don't understand."

"Beverly, Jacob is my son. He was born a few months after we
split. He's seven now."

She kept the hurt from her voice after this revelation, "And
your wife?"

"Nova is dead. She was aboard the Tsiolkovsky. She was on
the bridge when they blew the hatch."

"The Tsiolvovsky?" The numbness left Beverly's mind and it
clicked into gear. "The science vessel we encountered
monitoring the red supergiant. The whole crew had been
driven mad by the Psi 2000 virus. My god! Your wife was on
board?"

Jack nodded grimly. "Yes, Nova was on board. Apparently she
signalled the Enterprise just before that stupid fucker blew
the hatch on the bridge."

Beverly sat back thinking. . . the woman's voice that had
hailed them. . . low and insinuating asking if they had men
aboard. . . .Then it hit her. That must have been Nova
Latham! Motivated by sympathy, her hand unconsciously
reached for Jack's. "She is the scientist whose work I was
left, the one who did all that research into the
neurodengerative diseases. You mean she did this for her
son."

He looked at her hand resting on his and something flickered
through his eyes.

Beverly hastily pulled her hand back. "I am sorry for your
loss," she said stiffly.

He watched her. "I know that we didn't part on the best of
terms. I was a complete jerk to you. I know that now. It was
the grief, Beverly, losing our baby sent me over the edge.
And the thought that I am going to have to go through all
that again. . . I just don't know if I can handle it. Jacob
is my life now, all I have left of Nova," his voice cracked
with grief. "She had requested extended furlough after the
Tsiolkovsky finished its tour. She had spent the last year
researching Jacob's illness. . . "

Beverly spoke gently. "What exactly is wrong with Jacob?"

Jack looked at her through eyes clouded with despair. "Oh,
Bev," he choked out. "He has Markov's disease."

Beverly felt her heart break for him. Markov's disease! A
rare degenerative disorder, Markov's caused cell death in
the frontal lobes of the brain and the basal ganglia. It
resulted in neurofibrial tangles that caused atrophy and
characteristic symptoms...behaviour changes, amnesia,
cognitive impairment... The end result for the sufferer was
always the same, dementia and death. But Markov's was a
disease seen in the elderly and Jack's son was only seven!
He must have an extremely virulent form of the disease.

"How long has he had the symptoms? When was the diagnosis
made?" Beverly said softly.

Jack sighed. "He started to have trouble keeping his
balance, we thought he was just a bit clumsy at first, but
it got worse. Then his personality started to change. He
became so abnormally passive, but then at any moment with no
provocation he would become violent, harming himself and
others. Nova finally pinned his condition down last year.
She made it her life's work to find a cure. But now she's
gone.. and I.." His voice broke. "I need you, Bev. You are
the best damn doctor I ever met. I moved heaven and Earth to
get you here; god knows how many rules I broke. All I care
about now is Jacob. You have to help us."

Beverly looked into the impassioned face of the man who had
once hurt her so badly; every fibre of her being was telling
her that this situation was not right. The correct protocols
had not been followed and she was being ordered to work on
what was essentially a private research project. But what
would happen if she protested? There would be an inquiry,
precious time would be wasted and Jacob would continue to
deteriorate. The decision was made for her. She would help
Jack. But she would do it for Nova Latham and for Jacob.

Not for Jack, never for him.

Her fate decided, she squared her shoulders. "Okay. I'll do
it. When do we start?"

After dinner, Jack escorted her back to her quarters. At the
door he lingered next to her, he placed his hand gently on
her shoulder. "I don't know how to thank you, Beverly. I
hope that we will be able to have the opportunity to put our
past behind us. Maybe we could even become friends again. I
would like that."

Beverly shifted uncomfortably. "I hope so too. Now, it is
getting late and I want to make an early start tomorrow."
She gave him a reassuring smile. "Try not to worry."

He smiled back and his hand moved slowly against her skin.

Beverly felt a ripple of distaste run through her. She
cleared her throat. "Goodnight, Jack," she said firmly.

Jack smiled back. He bent and gave her a soft kiss on the
corner of her mouth. "Goodnight Bev."

She waited until he had left and then let herself into her
quarters. She walked over to where her empty luggage lay on
her bed. She picked up her carryall, and something fell out
of the side pocket and onto the floor with a thump. Beverly
bent down to pick it up. It was one of Jean-Luc's precious
books. She turned it over and her heart ached. 'The
Shakespearean love sonnets', her favourite book. Jean-Luc
must have tucked it into the side pocket of her bag before
she had left. She opened it and found that Jean-Luc had
written a note on the flyleaf.

-- My beautiful Beverly,

Being your slave what should I do but tend

upon the hours and times of your desire?

So live with me and be my love.

�JLP.

--

For the first time in days, her composure cracked. The
shadows of the past loomed all around her here. She hugged
the book to her chest and let the tears fall unchecked down
her face.

--- Jean-Luc ---


He arrived at his quarters after duty to find the message
indicator on his terminal flashing. He knew it would be from
Beverly. He had been expecting her to let him know how
things were going with her new assignment. He got himself a
cup of tea and sat down at the terminal to read. Twenty
minutes later his tea was cold, sitting untouched where he
had left it. He had just finished re-reading Beverly's
message for the third time. He sighed and sat back. Her
communique had been shocking. She had been seconded for a
private research assignment, the patient being Jack
Crusher's son. Her message had tried so hard to be upbeat
about the whole situation. But he could read between the
lines. She was going to have a hard time with this. He felt
his anger building. Just how had Jack managed to arrange all
this? Jean-Luc found that he was trying hard not to take
this whole situation personally. But his dislike of his
former best friend was something he could not put aside. He
was sure that Jack had somehow manoeuvred this for his own
selfish ends. He needed answers. He itched to contact
Admiral Rourke and find out just what the hell this was all
about. The only thing that stopped him was Beverly's
insistence that any official inquiries could jeopardise the
project, leaving Jack's son with a death sentence. He sighed
and against his better judgment decided to let things be.

--- Beverly ---

Jack arrived at her quarters the next morning.

Beverly was just in the middle of writing a message to
Jean-Luc on her terminal when Jack arrived. She hastily
flicked off the screen. That part of her life was definitely
off limits to her ex husband. Jack had invited himself in
and was presently getting himself something for breakfast
from the replicator.

Beverly got up from the desk. "You didn't bring Jacob with
you?"

Jack turned towards her. "He was a little out of sorts this
morning. I thought that it might be better if I took you to
meet him instead."

Beverly nodded. "Okay, that's fine by me." She gathered up
her padd and sat at the table quietly reading while he ate.

"Your wife certainly knew her stuff. You say she did all
this research in the year after Jacob was diagnosed?"

"Yes. It became her personal crusade. She traveled from one
end of the quadrant to the other. Every time a fellow
scientist came up with a new angle on Markov's she would get
leave and hop the nearest starship and go and meet with
them. I was left with the full time care of Jacob."

"That must have been very hard for you"

He looked at her. "I would do anything for my son."

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down her.
She shrugged it off and returned to her reading. Jack had
been right about Nova's travels; her meticulously written
notes included face to face Interviews with some of the most
prominent specialists in neuropsychiatric diseases. Beverly
sighed. Nova had done so much of the ground work. What was
needed now was the time and patience to put it all together,
join the dots and hopefully get the full picture. There were
many puzzling aspects to Jacob's case. In all her studies
Beverly had never come across a spontaneous case of early
onset Markov's disease. In fact as Markov's disease was an
autosomal dominant disorder it should have been inherited
from a parent. It was the most confusing aspect of the whole
case. Without the individual genetic markers to follow, it
was the single most confronting issue in treating Jacob. And
judging by her research, Nova Latham had obviously thought
so too.

Beverly absently nibbled on the edge of her thumb.

"You always do that when you read," Jack said softly.

Beverly looked over the padd at him. "Huh?"

Jack reached across and took her hand. "You always bite your
thumbnail when you read. After all these years, you've
hardly changed at all. In fact, you always were, and still
are, a very attractive woman."

Beverly felt uncomfortable. It was on the tip of her tongue
to remind him that he had once told her that the very sight
of her sickened him. But she pushed the thought aside as
unworthy and instead she changed the subject. "Shall we get
going? I'm really looking forward to meeting your son."

Jack smiled and looked over at her terminal. "You can finish
your message before we go, if you want. I didn't mean to
interrupt you."

There was no way she was going to finish her message to
Jean-Luc while Jack looked over her shoulder. She shook her
head. "No, it's fine. I'll finish it later."

Jack was watching her. "Beverly, I have to ask you not to
give out too much information about what you are working on
here, the less people that know about this the better. What
we are doing here is not exactly by the book."

Beverly nodded. "There is only one person I intend to
correspond with while I am here. I can assure you it will go
no further."

Jack stood. "Okay then, now that's settled, let's get going.
I have told Jacob all about you. He's taken his mother's
death very hard. Nova hadn't been around much during the
last year, but she had kept in touch constantly. Jacob's
verbal skills have been diminishing at a quite a rate
lately, and he spends most of his time in bed now, but I
know he will be pleased to see a new face."

They arrived at Jack's an hour later. The house was modest,
but had all the little touches of a family home. She heard
the roar of the waves on the beach behind the house, and
looking out of the window could she could see a sapphire
blue ribbon of ocean. Turning back Beverly noticed some
pictures on a dresser in the lounge room. She went over to
them, picking up one of a woman with a small boy. The child
was a miniature version of Jack, from his colouring down to
the smile on his face. For a moment, Beverly wondered if her
own son would have resembled his father so closely.

Jack's voice in her ear startled her out her reverie.
"That's Nova and Jacob. It was taken just before he got
sick." His face became sad. "He is a shell of his former
self now."

Beverly looked again at the robust little boy in the picture
and her heart went out to him.

Jack took the picture from her gently and placed it back
down on the dresser. "Let's go introduce you."

Beverly followed him through the house.

Jacob's room was towards the back of the house. As they got
closer, Beverly heard the sound of a woman's voice. She
looked to Jack, a question in her eyes.

"Sylvia is here. She's keeping Jacob company while I went to
get you."

Beverly digested this. Admiral Rourke was here?

But as she entered the room all she could focus on was the
little boy on the bed. He was sitting propped up, his little
body painfully thin and obviously ravaged by his illness. He
looked at Beverly curiously and she noted the jerky
movements of his face and body, all classic symptoms of
Markov's disease. But to see it in a child of Jacob's age
made it so much more obscene. Beverly walked over to him and
sat beside him on the bed. "Hello, Jacob," she said softly.

Jacob looked warily at her, but said nothing.

"He's not very communicative today."

Beverly turned to the speaker. Admiral Sylvia Rourke
extended her hand. "It's nice to see you again, Dr Howard. I
will no doubt make time to meet with you later. Maybe we can
go over some of Nova's notes together. I have some insights
of my own that. . . "

Jack cut her off. "We got back here earlier than I expected,
Sylvia. Thanks for your time, but I'm sure I'll be able to
take over now."

Beverly saw Admiral Rourke's tight smile. She got to her
feet and said goodbye to Jacob. She flashed Beverly a glance
before she left the room. Beverly was surprised by what she
saw in that fleeting haunted look. Just what the hell was
going on here?

Jack went to see Admiral Rourke out and Beverly turned her
attention back to the little boy on the bed. His jerky
movements were painful to watch. "Jacob, my name is Beverly.
I hope that we will be friends. Your daddy and I know each
other very well and I would like to get to know you better
too."

Jacob's eyes slid to her fleetingly and then he looked away.

Beverly leaned forward. "I know your mummy was trying very
hard to find a way to help you and I am going to be
finishing your mummy's work, but to do that I am going to
have to see you a lot. I will also have to do some tests,
but they won't hurt."

She kept her tone of voice soft and low. She reached out and
took Jacob's hand. "Can you understand what I am saying? If
I am going to fast for you, you can tell let me know and I
will say it over again."

Jacob turned back to her and this time his eyes held hers.
She felt his small hand move, clutching hers. "I want my
mummy," he whispered.

Beverly moved closer to him, taking him in her arms. "I know
you do, sweetheart. I wish she was here too. Your mummy was
a very special person and she spent all of her time thinking
about you. I have been reading the work your mum did while
she was away. All she wanted was to see you get well, and I
promise I will try to do all I can to make her dream come
true."

A gentle cough sounded from the doorway. Jack had returned
and was looking at her intently. "That was a lovely thing to
say, Beverly." He turned his eyes to his son. "You see,
Jacob, I told you that Beverly was pretty special." He
looked to her again. "I am only just starting to remember
that again myself."

Beverly spent the rest of her day with Jacob. She ran some
neuroimaging scans so she could compare them with the most
recent ones available. She also conducted a mini mental
state examination. She hoped to compare all the results
tomorrow and them get back to Nova's work and try to spend
some more time on research. She wanted to check every facet
of Jacob's condition. Maybe there was something that Nova
had missed.

Beverly spent the next few weeks focussing on her work. She
would leave in the mornings and spend the day with Jack and
Jacob. She found it easy to work from the Crusher home as
Nova had used it as the base for her studies. All of her
research was still there, along with reams of related
material and even handwritten notes. Jacob got used to her
comings and goings. Beverly adjusted his medications and
tried as hard as she could to keep him from deteriorating
any further. Nova's research became an obsession for her,
but try as hard as she could Beverly found that she kept
meeting the same brick wall in her research that Nova had.
What was causing the mechanism that resulted in the
deposition of the abnormal protein, amyloid beta outside of
the nerve endings? This continual aggregation of molecules
in the neuronal cells was giving rise to cell death in the
frontal lobes at an ever increasing rate. Beverly felt the
spectre of time hanging over her shoulder. She knew from her
daily scans of Jacob that his time left could be counted
only in months.

With every neural examination, Jacob's mental state
diminished. He was visibly upset at the failings of his mind
and body. He started to have larger gaps in his cognitive
functioning- one day he might forget how to use a spoon to
feed himself, the next how to kick a ball. Beverly spent
some of her time everyday trying to keep his brain working,
trying to get him to use and reuse the remaining skills her
had left. She grew to be a surrogate mother to him,
applauding his minor victories and comforting him when he
knew defeat. Jacob began to call for her in preference to
his father. Soon, only her presence could still his
nightmares and make him smile. She made a habit of giving
him his night time medications before she returned to her
quarters and she would tell him a joke whilst tucking him
in. She would often stay sitting next to him until he was
asleep his little fist curled in her hand. It was then that
her heart quietly ached for her own son. If he had lived he
would be only a little older than Jacob.

As she sat with Jacob one night, picturing the little boy
her son might have grown up to be, she wondered if he was
ill, would he have also slept with his hand in hers? She
sighed. What she wouldn't give to have him here right now.
That this was her house, her son in the bed, and god yes,
even Jack, her husband still, all living the dream that she
had once hoped for so much. But life wasn't like that. Life
was disease and betrayal and death. And the misery of
granted prayers, she thought to herself.

Jacob's voice broke into her reverie. "Why are you so sad,
Beverly?"

She smiled brightly, too brightly. "Oh, I am not sad, just
thinking."

"But thinking made you sad. I can tell 'cos there your face
is wet."

Beverly sobered. Well, I can't argue with that. "I was
thinking of my little boy."

Jacob's eyes grew round. "You have a kid?"

Beverly looked away and quickly dried her eyes with her
fingertips. "I had a little boy once. He died when he was a
baby."

Jacob regarded her solemnly. "That is sad."

She felt the tears start again. "Yes it is. It was very sad
for me and for your daddy."

"Why was it sad for him?"

Beverly suddenly felt like she had opened a can of worms.
"What did your daddy tell you about me?"

"He said that you and him used to be together, before he
found my mummy."

"Did he tell you that he and I were married?"

Jacob nodded.

"Well, we made a baby together, but something went wrong and
the baby died when he was still inside me. He was born, but
he never woke up."

Jacob thought for a moment. "Was he my little brother?"

Beverly smiled. "No, this was before you, he would have been
your big brother if he had lived. He would be older than
you. Your daddy was really sad when the baby died. That's
why we aren't together anymore. It was just too sad for the
both of us."

"Will I see him in heaven?"

Beverly was jolted. " Why do you say that?"

Jacob grew serious. "Cos my brother died, and then my mummy
died. And I keep falling down and I can't swim or do
anything anymore." He spoke softly now, frightened. "And
sometimes my food gets stuck, here." He made an effort to
point to his throat. "I think one time it will get so stuck
so bad I won't get it out, and I won't be able to breathe,
and I will die too."

Beverly made a mental note of this new development. Her
heart sunk. "I will help you with your food, we'll mash it
up a bit more and I will stay with you while you eat and
make sure that it doesn't get stuck, okay?"

Jacob nodded, he was sleepy now. "Don't worry. When I die, I
will say hello to your baby for you."

She felt chilled. "Don't say that. Your daddy and I need you
here."

Jacob looked away. "I heard him say I killed mummy. He said
if she wasn't out trying to fix me she would still be here
with us."

Beverly felt her anger rising. Of all the stupid,
insensitive things for Jack to have said. She opened her
mouth to speak a denial, but was stunned by what the little
boy said next.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked seriously.

Beverly could only nod her head.

"I saw my mummy last night. She was right there." He poked
his chin at the end of his bed. "She held her hand out and
told me that I would be with her soon. I miss my mummy. I
want to be with my mummy, Beverly."

Beverly choked back her tears. Her eyes stung and her breath
was leaden in her lungs. She closed her eyes and leaned
back. "Oh baby, don't say that . . . "

But Jacob was already asleep, his hand tightly clasped in
hers.

She leaned forward and smoothed back his hair. "Good night,
Jacob," she whispered to him softly.

---
Beverly
---


At the end of another long day, she had been sitting at
Nova's desk. Beverly's frustration at not being about to fit
the pieces of the puzzle together were starting to get to
her. She was trying to hold onto everything so tightly,
afraid to rest for even a minute in case it all unravelled
and there was nothing left to hope for. God only knew what
Nova had been through on this same journey. She sat back and
closed her eyes. Jacob's illness was becoming more and more
debilitating, the production of abnormal proteins in his
brain were forming more and more plaques. These were in turn
causing tangles in the nerve endings rendering them useless.
He had lost the function of so much neural tissue. It was
like a domino effect. One area of death in the frontal lobes
led to the loss of more and more of Jacob's abilities to
function. The Markov's disease was spiralling out of
control.

She tried in vain to emotionally distance herself from her
research for Jacob's sake. She allowed herself a few minutes
to clear her head. Her thoughts turned to another problem:
her ex husband. He had been very attentive lately, maybe
even too attentive, she had the feeling that he was watching
her, she had caught him staring at her, and it had made her
very uncomfortable. It was true that Jack had done
everything he could to make sure that the time Beverly spent
at the house was productive and as a consequence Beverly
had, at least at first, been able to further Nova's
research. But she couldn't help the feeling that Jack was
somehow hoping to re-kindle their relationship. But no
sooner had she thought it than she felt foolish. She was
probably just damn tired and over reacting to Jack's
kindness.

She was still sitting and thinking when she felt Jack's
hands on her shoulders. The touch was gentle. "Are you still
at it, sweetheart?" he asked.

Beverly felt herself tense at his intimate tone. He had
started to drop those causal endearments into his
conversations with her lately. She tensed, trying to give
him signals with her body language. "I was just about to
pack up for the evening actually, I. . . " her voice stilled
as Jack's ministrations became more brazen.

His hands moved over her shoulders in a sensuous massage,
gently un-knitting the muscles in her neck and shoulders,
his fingers pushing aside her top and caressing her flesh.
His mouth was just inches from her ear when he whispered.
"Why don't you stay the night?"

Beverly jumped up. She felt herself flush. "Jack, I don't
think. . . "

Jack smiled. "I just meant that it is ridiculous travelling
back and forth from your quarters everyday. I have been
giving this a lot of thought. Why don't you make our house
your base? You can use the spare room. All of Nova's
research is here, after all, and you will be on hand if
anything happens with Jacob. No more getting called out in
the middle of the night if I can't handle him. And if you
made your base here, you could work whenever you felt like
it." He reached for her hand. "Do you still have trouble
sleeping? You always did before."

Beverly nodded briefly.

"Well, there you go. If you couldn't sleep you could come
down here and research or you could talk to me. I am up and
down through the night so often with Jacob and it would be
nice to have someone to talk to."

Beverly debated this internally. The convenience of being
able to work from the house was too logical to argue about.
But her gut feelings were telling her it was not a good
idea. She could see that jack was starting to misinterpret
her motivations for being here. He was newly widowed and he
was apparently mistaking her professional dedication to her
work with his son for something much deeper. The fact that
she was his ex wife only added to the illusion of intimacy.
But she was so tempted to be here for Jacob. She knew his
nights were unsettled and he grown to depend on her in so
many ways.

Jack must have seen the indecision on her face. "I know," he
said. "What if you just give it a trial run for a couple of
weeks? If staying with us doesn't work out you can go back
to your quarters at HQ."

Beverly felt her resolve waver. It would only be for a week
or so. Maybe this thing with Jack was all in her head. Maybe
she was just jumpy, putting too much emphasis on his
behaviour towards her. He seemed to delight in do this,
playing games, giving her mixed signals. She sighed
defeated. "Alright. I will. I'll bring down some of my
things tomorrow. I'll stay for a week and we'll see how it
goes." She gathered her notes together.

Jack smiled at her. "You've made the right decision, Bev,
for all of us."

---
Jean-Luc
---

Beverly had just informed him of her intention to leave her
quarters to live and work from Jack's house. Jean-Luc
received this information with a heavy heart. He could tell
that Beverly was getting too emotionally involved in this
case. He was still very unhappy with the secrecy involved
and the methods that had been used to manipulate Beverly
into this assignment. From his point of view it seemed like
a clear cut case of emotional blackmail. He had promised
Beverly that he would not interfere officially, but he had
put out some personal feelers and was not happy with what he
had found out.

Admiral Rourke seemed to have bypassed official channels to
wrangle Beverly's reassignment. She was working on a medical
research project that seemed to have been created out of
thin air. The scientist that had been on the case, a Nova
Latham had been killed recently and Jean-Luc was shocked to
find out that she had been Jack's second wife.

Beverly had also mentioned that she was having some troubles
with her former husband although she refused to be specific.
The child, Jacob, also appeared to be deteriorating despite
her best efforts. He could see that she was pushing herself
too hard. Her messages had started to dwindle, and when she
wrote her tone was one of weariness. The optimism of the
last few weeks steadily leaching away. . .

---
Beverly
---

Beverly sighed and closed book Jean-Luc had given her. She
ran her hands over the cover. She had been here nearly three
months now, and how she missed him. She missed his company,
his voice, his touch. She was so tempted to ask for the
leave she knew she couldn't take, to go and meet with him.
She knew it was a silly fantasy but it kept her going, the
thought that she could be with him if she really wanted to.
She closed her eyes and pictured him, how he had looked as
she had stood on the transporter pad before she had left. He
had dismissed the transporter chief and then walked towards
her. He hadn't talked, just taken her in his arms. She had
been amused inwardly at that. Never a man to be ruled by his
passions, she had thought. Then he had turned away and made
the transport himself. As the swirling beam of the
transporter had taken her she had heard his voice, soft and
stricken. 'It breaks my heart to send you away.'

Beverly felt the tears threaten. Damn it! She had been so
emotional lately. This research was taking its toll on her.
The stress had even caused her monthly cycle to be late,
something that hadn't happened to her in years. She was
working over eighteen hours a day and still the missing
pieces of the Markov's jigsaw eluded her. At times she even
found herself talking to Nova Latham, asking her questions
that could never be answered. She had become so deeply
involved in Jacob's illness she found it hard to separate
herself from her work. She was conscious of the fact that
she was nearing burnout level. She had wanted to find this
cure so badly that she had lost herself along the way. Her
week's stay with Jack had turned in to a month. His
attentions were becoming more frequent too. He found reasons
to brush against her and touch her. He had joked about them
getting back together again. On more than one occasion she
had caught him trying to find out where her communiques were
going. She was sure he had been in her room, going through
her things. It was becoming oppressive, like some ancient
Victorian novel, another good reason to spend the whole day
in 'Nova's Lab' as she had christened it.

She closed the bedroom door before changing into her robe.
She brushed her hair and then headed for the ensuite
bathroom, where she showered and washed her hair. She
noticed that her breasts were quite sensitive and hoped that
this meant things would soon be returning to normal with her
cycle. She was just drying her hair when she heard a noise
in the other room. The sound of a something heavy falling,
or more alarmingly, being thrown across the room. She felt
instinctive fear grip her�Jack. It had to be him. She
casually hummed a tune, hoping to convince him that she
hadn't heard him, as she quietly edged her way over to the
ensuite door.

Holding her breath, she pushed it gently open a crack so she
could see out into the room.

It was empty. She exhaled. This had gone too far. As much as
it pained her to leave Jacob, she had to get out of this
house. She got into her robe, put the towel aside and sat
down on her bed. It was then that she noticed her bedroom
door was ajar. She was sure that she had closed it. She
walked over and shut it firmly, regretting for the umpteenth
time that it had no locking device on it.

She was turning back when she noticed the book. She had left
it next to her pillow on the bed and now it lay on the floor
against the wall. She picked it up gingerly and her blood
ran cold. The beautiful old edition had been torn, the cover
nearly wrenched off, the page with the words from Jean-Luc
torn out. She looked all around but couldn't find the page
anywhere.

Then it hit her in a rush. Jack. Oh shit, now he knew. She
sat on the bed tortured by indecision. She knew logically
that she had nothing to be ashamed of. Her marriage was
over. She was divorced. Whoever she saw was none of Jack's
business. The fact was she was in love with one of his old
friends was just the way life had panned out.

But she knew her ex husband. That was not how he was going
to see it. She remembered his jealous scenes, his
insinuations. He had always thought that Jean-Luc had been
one of her lovers. It had of course been untrue then. But
now...she took a deep breath and put the book back under her
pillow.

She pulled on a blouse and some trousers and went to find
Jack.

She found him sitting in front of the terminal.

Beverly approached quietly, trying to see what he was up to,
not wanting to get too close; she overheard him arranging a
subspace communique with the Enterprise D. Pinning a smile
on her face, she walked further into the room towards him.

Jack heard her and swivelled in his chair towards her. The
cold look in his eyes caused her to falter. "Jack, I thought
I heard. . . "

He cut her off, his voice low and measured. "Heard what,
Beverly?"

"I thought I heard you arranging to talk to Jean-Luc."

"Yes, I was. I thought I'd try and drop my old friend a
line, let him know how everything is going."

Beverly was guarded but she wanted to get this out into the
open. "Oh really? I haven't had a chance to message him in a
few days."

"So you have communicated with him quite often while you
have been here?"

"Well, yes I have." She drew a steadying breath. "You see,
Jean-Luc and I...we are..."

He sat back his fingers drumming on the table. "You are
seeing him, aren't you?"

Beverly let her breath go in a rush. "Yes."

"How long?" Jack demanded.

Beverly shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think that is any of
your business."

He brooded. "Were you with him before?"

She shook her head, not quite comprehending. "Before what?
Our divorce? No. I never betrayed you. I loved you. I
started seeing Jean-Luc after I was posted on the
Enterprise."

"I have heard you requested that posting"

She sat down on the sofa. "Yes I did."

"But it had nothing to do with him?"

"Jack, the Enterprise D is the flagship of the Federation.
Any officer worth their salt would want to be posted on the
D. After you left, I threw myself into my work. I deserved
that assignment. Jean-Luc Picard being captain had nothing
to do with it, in fact until I reported for duty. I hadn't
seen Jean-Luc for years."

"So how did it happen? How did you two get together?'

Beverly blushed. "Why do you want to know this? I can't see
how it can do any good to discuss this."

"I want to know. Call it morbid curiosity. I had hoped that
maybe there was a chance that we could be together again.
But if you are seeing someone else. . . " He let the thought
linger and then he looked at her. "Is it serious between you
and him?"

"Yes." She smiled, she couldn't help herself. "I have fallen
in love with him."

"So you weren't seeing him before your posting to the D?"

"No. There was never anything between us until a few months
ago."

Jack looked at her intently now. "You mean about the same
time that Nova died."

Beverly grew cautious again. She was deliberately vague.
"Yes, I suppose it would have been about that time, maybe a
few weeks later."

Jack's eyes bore in hers. "Did the Psi 2000 virus get on
board the Enterprise, Beverly?"

Beverly met his gaze. "Yes."

"And you and the captain were infected?"

She hesitated. "Yes."

"And after being just friends for all these years, you
became more intimate?"

She shifted uncomfortably. Jack was getting too close to the
truth now. She remembered how physically attracted to
Jean-Luc she had been that day, even now the thought of it
was intoxicating. She stood. "That is enough. I don't want
to discuss this with you anymore."

Jack came towards her, his voice full of innuendo, he was
just inches from her now. "So you both got the virus? Then
what did you do, Bev? Did you fuck the high and mighty
Jean-Luc Picard on his ready room table? That is every
captain's fantasy you know."

Beverly was appalled. All of the torment Jack had inflicted
on her in their relationship, the years of fear, the sorrow,
the guilt all surfaced. She was still trying to appease him,
even now, after being divorced all this time still afraid of
him, she had spent the last two months of her life trying to
save his son, still stuck in that hopeless cycle of trying
to please him. It struck her then, crystal in its clarity.
Jack Crusher never could be appeased.

Her anger and resentment boiled to the surface. Her arm
reached back and she slapped him across the face with a
satisfying crack. "Let me tell you something, Jack Crusher,
with him I have finally discovered what a good lover can do.
One mindless fuck with the captain of the Enterprise is far
superior to the six years of totally inept sex I had to put
up with from you."

She knew the minute that the words left her mouth that she
had made a grave mistake. Jack advanced on her like
lightening. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her
furiously. She heard the panicky sounds coming from her own
throat. Jack's face was contorted with rage and she saw him
draw back his fist, watched it travel towards her face. At
the last second she turned her head to the side and his fist
impacted on her jaw, she was thrown backwards by the force
of the blow. Beverly instinctively put her arms out behind
her and she landed painfully on the floor. A ripple of agony
ran up her arm as her right wrist buckled under her and
shattered. She rolled on to her side gasping in pain. She
could taste blood in her mouth, and she knew her lip had
been spilt open.

Jack circled above her, his breathing hoarse. "You little
bitch."

Beverly sat up. "Jack, please. My wrist, it's broken." She
cried out with the pain. Her words slurred by her swollen
lip. "Oh shit, help me."

He looked at her with contempt. "You're a doctor, fix it
yourself."

Beverly was almost in tears. "I can't fix this. It's way too
bad. I am going to have to Medical and get it done by
someone else."

He shook his head. "No way. I'll get someone out here."

Beverly grabbed hold of the sofa with her good arm and
picked herself up. "Jack, I need to go to Medical. Right
now."

She could see him debating this internally.

Beverly thought quickly and picked his weakest spot. "I
can't help Jacob like this."

Jack bowed his head. "I'll call Sylvia."

Beverly sobbed with relief. "Tell her my right wrist is
shattered."

He nodded once and left the room.

---
Jean-Luc
---

The message came through when his was in his ready room. It
was visual. He sat down to take it. His curiosity was
aroused by the source of the message. He remembered from
what Beverly had told him that Jack's home was located in
that area. For a moment, his hopes surged, maybe it was
Beverly. He flicked the screen on and was greeted, however,
by a smiling Jack Crusher. Jean-Luc called on all his
diplomatic skills to smile and return his once best friend's
greeting.

"Hello, Jack. It's been a long time since I have heard from
you."

Something passed over Jack's face momentarily before he
spoke. "Too long, my friend."

Jean-Luc sat back. "And how is your son?"

Jack smiled tightly. "He's about how I would expect, not too
good. I suppose you know that Beverly has been working that
sweet little ass of hers off trying to get to the bottom of
what's wrong with him."

Jean-Luc stiffened at the way Jack had referred to Beverly.
"Oh. Well, she is a fine doctor. If anyone can help your
son, it is her."

He saw Jack smile. "So, I hear you and Bev are an item?"

Jean-Luc kept his face expressionless. "I beg your pardon?"

Jack smiled. "A word to the wise, Jean-Luc, you watch
yourself with her."

Jean-Luc kept calm. "I have no idea what you are talking
about." He sat back and waited for Jack Crusher to continue.

"Oh you have got it bad, Jonny. Don't tell me you've been
taken in by her too?" He sighed. "I know how convincing she
is. Did she tell you her sob story about our marriage?"

Jean-Luc didn't rise to the bait. "Dr Howard is a fine
doctor and a special woman. I am afraid I have no idea what
you are talking about."

Jack raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, but I am telling
you right now that you aren't going to win her over by
writing sappy poetry in any books you give her. You see,
Beverly is ...there is no easy way to say this...but she's
sleeping with me too. I had no idea about you. Until I saw
the book that is. . . "

Jean-Luc felt Jack's words hit him like a blow to the gut.
For an agonised moment, he didn't quite believe what he was
hearing.

Jack was talking again, telling him things, intimate things
about his sex life with Beverly. He even knew about the Psi
2000 virus and its affects on them. Jean-Luc felt physically
ill. His jaw clenched tightly. "Thank you, Jack," he said
abruptly. "I do not wish to hear anymore. Picard out." He
jabbed at the terminal control viciously and the screen went
blank.

He got out of his chair and stalked up and down the ready
room floor. It couldn't be. Beverly would never. . . but
then how had Jack found out all of this private information?
Jean-Luc's anger threatened to overwhelm him. He left the
ready room and strode across the bridge and into a
turbolift. "Number One, you have the bridge," he barked as
the lift doors closed.

He went to his quarters, but there he was surrounded by his
memories of Beverly. He felt a surge of emotion so raw it
was violent. He slammed his fist down, and threw the first
thing he laid his hands on against the wall. Why did she do
it? Why did she sleep with him, with her ex husband, of all
people? The sound of Jack Crusher's gloating voice went
around in his head. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He
pictured Beverly with Jack, betraying him, doing those
intimate things to Jack that he had thought were solely for
him. The calm fa�ade of his control collapsed.

He left his quarters and turned in the direction of the
turbolift. He was headed for the holodeck. Right now, he
felt the urgent need to beat the shit out of some holograms.

---
Beverly
---

Beverly gripped the hypospray with her left hand and gave
herself a dose of painkillers. She swallowed and sat on her
bed, waiting for it to take effect. She heard the sound of
Jack approaching and unconsciously shifted further up the
bed. He came into the room. He barely looked at her. "I've
called Sylvia. I told her you had an accident. She's coming
here. She said she has everything she needs to fix that." He
jerked his head at her arm. "It's a pity about your pretty
face though. I don't think your precious Jean-Luc would
touch you looking like that."

He turned and left the room.

A short time later, she heard the Admiral arrive. There was
a heated discussion outside of her room. She could hear
snippets of the conversation. Admiral Rourke was obviously
not impressed at this latest turn of events. Beverly
listened avidly as she asked Jack just what the hell he had
done this time and then told him in no uncertain terms "that
she was sick of covering his ass."

She sat back and closed her eyes. She heard the door open
and the older woman approached the bed.

"Beverly, it's okay. It's just me Sylvia," she said gently.

Beverly opened her eyes. "Admiral, I..."

Sylvia Rourke smiled. "For goodness sakes, Beverly, I think
you can call me Sylvia." Beverly felt her brush the hair
back from her forehead. She sat down on the bed. "Jack told
me you had an 'accident'. He said you were arguing. A
'lover's quarrel' he called it."

Beverly felt her stomach lurch sickly, but she said nothing.

"Well, never mind that. I'll fix you up. Let's have a look
at that wrist."

Beverly sat and watched as the other doctor stabilised the
fracture. Once it was reduced, it felt much better, but she
knew she was going to need further treatment. She could tell
by the other woman's attitude that she was also thinking the
same thing.

"You must have fallen hard, this fracture is going to need
to be further stabilised at Medical, but I can fix your
face. You didn't do that falling down, did you?" She eyed
her cautiously. "Tell me, did Jack do this to you?"

Beverly's emotions rocked out of control, she couldn't speak
so she just nodded.

Sylvia Rouke's face grew grim. "I am going to scan you, just
in case there is anything else wrong. Then I will do what I
can for your face." She ran the medical tricorder over her,
and gave Beverly a puzzled look. "Why didn't you tell me
that you are pregnant?"

Beverly was stunned. "Because I'm not."

The other woman smiled. "Yes, you are, at least a couple of
months along. We can get a more accurate reading when you
come tomorrow and get that wrist fixed." As if something
important had just occurred to her, Admiral Rouke's smile
faded to be replaced by a frown. "Is it Jack's?"

"Good god, no. No, it's not." Beverly felt shocked that she
would ask her that, but then remembering Sylvia's earlier
comment about the reason Jack had used as his excuse for
bringing her here, it was no wonder she had asked. But this
child was Jean-Luc's. Beverly smiled. She was carrying her
lover's child. No wonder she had felt so run down and over
emotional, and no wonder her cycle was late. She covered her
stomach protectively with her hand. "My child," she said
softly.

Sylvia Rourke placed her hand on Beverly's. "Are you
absolutely sure that Jack is not the father of this child?"

Beverly looked at her questioningly. "Yes. Why do you want
to know?"

The admiral sighed and looked away. "I have something I need
to tell you. Something I should have told you right form the
start." She looked back at her. "Jack carries the gene for
Markov's disease too."

Beverly looked at her opened mouthed with shock. This was
something that she had never expected. Jack had said that
his tests were clear, but then with this information, all
the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place. Jacob's case of
Markov's was not spontaneous, it was, as she had always
suspected, an autosomal dominant inherited disease. He had
gotten it from his father.

Beverly shook her head. "Does Jack know he carries it?"

Sylvia Rourke looked nervously at the door. "Yes. He does."

Beverly's shock was replaced by a shaft of anger. How could
he have done this to Jacob, to his only child? She knew that
this news had come too late to cure Jacob now. If she had
been given the necessary genetic information by Jack when
Jacob had developed the first symptoms of the disease a year
ago, she could have mapped the exact way Jacob had inherited
the disease, then she could have tailored genetically
engineered triggers to stop the production of the damaging
amyloid beta proteins. Given enough time, she could stop the
progression of the disease but time was the one thing that
Jacob didn't have left. The damage to his brain was all but
irreparable now. She bristled with anger that he had let
Nova waste the last year of her life on a fruitless search
for a cure that she didn't have a hope in hell of finding,
time she could have spent with her son. Beverly thought of
how many countless hours that she had spent discussing this
cryptic aspect of his son's case with him and he had never
said a word to her.

Beverly looked at the woman beside her. "How long have you
known about this?"

Sylvia Rourke glanced at the door again. "Not now. I will
tell you everything tomorrow when we are alone. It is
something I am not proud of, but I have been carrying this
burden too long now and after what I have seen tonight I
have decided I cannot do this anymore. I loved Jack once,
and for my sins that love is going to end up costing me
everything I have."

---
Jean-Luc
---

Jean-Luc had spent the last two days with his temper a
breaking point. The atmosphere on the bridge had become
tense and strained. He knew that for the first time in his
career his personal problems were starting to impact on his
captaincy of his ship. He had been trying to cope in every
way he knew. He had put through at least a dozen messages to
Beverly only to terminate them before they were sent. The
hurt he felt was crippling him. He finally decided he needed
to talk to the ship's counsellor.

Deanna Troi arrived after her bridge shift. She smiled at
Jean-Luc and sat down on the sofa across from him. She
looked at him for a moment, allowing him to gather his
thoughts. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

Jean-Luc took a steadying breath. He stood and walked over
to the bookshelf, his hand drawn to the empty space between
the volumes where Beverly's book had once been.

Waves of regret washed over him, was it really possible to
pine away over a broken heart?

"Captain?" Troi's soft voice broke into his thoughts. "I am
sensing some very deep personal emotions from you. Please,
sir, talk to me I will do my best to help."

He returned to his seat. "Counsellor, I really don't know
where to begin."

She smiled. "Well, you can begin by calling me Deanna. And
as for where to start, you can tell me why those books over
there caused you so much pain just now."

He told Deanna the whole story, from the start of his
feelings of attraction to Beverly, losing her to Jack, the
recent joy of having her acknowledge and finally return his
feelings, her reassignment and its dubious nature. He spoke
of her messages and how they had grown less frequent until
lately he had heard nothing from her. He talked until he was
hoarse and the tears he had held in check for so many days
threatened to fall.

Deanna let him speak, encouraging him to continue until he
got to the events of the last few days, he faltered as he
spoke of his irritation at of letting his personal problems
effect his leadership, and then finally he spoke again of
Beverly. Of the things that Jack had told him, how those
things plagued him night and day. He admitted to the
communiques he never sent, and at last his deep sorrow at
losing her.

Deanna chose to interrupt him at this point. "Captain, you
tell me you haven't spoken to Beverly about any of this. How
do you know that what her ex husband is telling you is
true?"

Jean-Luc stood and started walking. He reached the window
and looked out into space. He sighed. "He knew so much,
about the book and other intimate details. There is no way
he could have known unless he was told."

Deanna followed him over to the window and stood behind him.
"From what you have told me, Beverly Howard is a very strong
and loyal woman. She has survived domestic abuse and the
loss of a child. She overcame a considerable violation of
her trust by her husband and chose to let you into her life.
She made a very brave decision, Captain, when she allowed
herself to face those wounds and become your lover. At
present, she has put aside all of the hurts of the past to
help the child of the man who emotionally abused and
deserted her. On the other hand, her former husband has
demonstrated that he can be violent, cruel, manipulating and
untruthful. The question you have to ask yourself is�knowing
them both as well as you do, whom do you chose to believe?"

He turned back to her. "You think it is as simple as that?"

"It could very well be. I suggest you take leave. Go to her.
Sort this out."

He sighed. "But what about my ship?"

"You would be doing this for your ship too. You asked to see
me because you have realised that this problem with your
personal life is affecting your work. As I see it, you
really have no choice."

He let her words sink in. She was right of course. He needed
to see Beverly. He had to hear it from her that their
relationship was over.

---
Beverly
---

The bones in her wrist had finally been mended. She flexed
it and felt the protest from newly knitted bones. Her face
had been repaired the night before but it was still swollen
and discoloured. Beverly sat back. She had the slightly
disorientated feeling that you get after waking from a
dream, only this particular nightmare wasn't yet over.

Now she sat and listened as Sylvia Rourke told her about the
sordid web of Jack's secret life.

She heard how desperate he had been to join Starfleet, how
his medical condition has ruled this out. That was how he
had first met Sylvia. She had fallen for him and they had
become romantically involved. Jack had manipulated those
feelings, getting the young doctor to falsify his records.
The Markov's had just disappeared from his medical results
and a young Jack Crusher had been able to join Starfleet. He
had rationalised to Sylvia that long before the symptoms
showed themselves, he would be either out of Starfleet or
dead, probably killed in the line of duty.

The older woman had looked on as Jack had made his way
single-mindedly through the ranks. They had remained lovers
up until Jack had married Beverly.

And then she had faltered in her story.

She had looked to Beverly, tears in her eyes. "When you got
pregnant, Jack came to me. He told me the news. I warned him
about the risks, but he was confident. He said it was a
chance he was willing to take. He always seemed to think
that when he wanted something it was his by rights. He
wanted a child by you and he was going to have one . . . "
She lowered her head. "When you lost the baby, something
snapped in him. He had always been self absorbed, but I
watched as he hit rock bottom. You knew about the other
women?"

"I knew about Nova. I had no idea there were others,"
Beverly said softly.

Sylvia continued the thought. "Nova was such a lovely woman.
Jack had told her how you refused to sleep with him after
losing the baby and how you emotionally withdrew from him.
He told her that his marriage was a loveless one and he
suspected you of having numerous affairs." Her eyes shifted
sadly to Beverly's again. "But that's not true is it?"

She didn't need to wait for Beverly's answer. "He didn't
tell me that Nova was having his child until it was
impossible to deny. I watched and waited. Jacob was born. I
advised Jack to get a genetic screening done. But he was so
sure that this time. . . "

Beverly sat forward. "What do you mean, this time?" Dread
grew inside her as bitter comprehension flooded through her.
She shook her head. "No. It can't be. Please tell me I'm
wrong."

Sylvia sat silently for an eternal moment and then she spoke
softly. "I performed the tests on your little boy. It was
the disease that caused the stillbirth. Whatever else Jack
told you was a lie."

Something in the depths of her heart broke. She stood. "I
can't believe this. All these years I blamed myself for my
son's death. I lived with that guilt. The endless sorrow
every day, every night, and now I am told that my whole
marriage was a lie and my son died because of it?"

She heard the older woman's sob. " I am so sorry. Please. .
. "

But Beverly raised her hand, silencing her. "No. Don't. I
can't listen to anymore." Her fist had been clenched so hard
that her nails had broken through the skin of her palm, but
there was no pain. She forced herself to move, to put one
foot in front of the other and walk. She realised she was
outside when the sunlight dazzled her, but she was too
chilled to feel its warmth. Her hopeless despair drove her
on and she knew exactly where she had to go.

---

She knelt at her son's grave marker. She reached out,
tracing his name on the stone with her fingertip gently, a
mother's caress. "I am so very sorry, my baby," she
whispered.

Her soul was a ragged, gaping wound, but she couldn't feel
it, she was numb. She wondered absently in the professional
recesses of her mind if she was in shock. It seemed like a
lifetime ago since she had left Jean-Luc and been entangled
in this web of deceit. She felt curiously detached, like all
of this was happening to someone else, that she was just
observing a stranger's shattered life.

She had only one clear thought. She wanted to kill Jack
Crusher. She wanted him dead.

She knew at least a dozen undetectable ways to do it. And
she only needed one.

She was standing on the precipice, then pain sharp as a
driven nail pierced her heart.

And she wept.

---

She arrived back at the house. But instead of going straight
in, she decided to keep walking. The house backed onto the
beach and she wanted to calm herself down before she saw
Jack. She walked down to the water. The swell was breaking
on the sand. It was too rough for swimming today. She
remembered how Jacob had talked of his love of swimming, he
used to come here with his parents and boogie board when the
swell was small. She stopped and picked up some shells, they
would make a nice diversion for him. She could put them on
the table bedside his bed and he could dream of the sea. She
would bring him down here tomorrow before she left. She had
made the decision to move out, back to her quarters at HQ.
There was no way she could stay here now after he had
assaulted her. She hoped to convince Jack to let her take
Jacob with her, but she knew it was probably in vain. If he
said no then she was going to insist that he brought in a
full time nurse to take over when she left in the evenings.
She sighed to herself, knowing she was just delaying the
enviable. She had to see Jack. Confront him with what she
had found out.

She left the beach behind and walked back up the gentle
slope to the house. She let herself in the back door,
pulling it shut behind her. She walked calmly into Jack's
room.

He looked up as she approached. "So, how's the wrist?"

Beverly held out her arm and wiggled her fingers.

"All fixed then, I see."

"Yes, Jack."

"Your face is looking better too."

"Is it?"

He frowned. "Look, Bev, I'm sorry about last night. You
drove me to it, saying what you did. My pride couldn't
handle it."

"Is this the same pride that keeps you from telling me the
truth?"

He looked at her cautiously. He tried to laugh it off. "Are
you sure you didn't hurt your head when you fell?"

Beverly regarded him solemnly. "Just when were you going to
tell me the truth about the Markov's disease?"

He stood. "I have told you the truth about it. Jacob has..."

She cut him off viciously. "Liar!"

His voice became silky and dangerous. "Just what have you
found out?"

"I had a long talk with Admiral Rourke this morning. I found
out so many interesting things. Like the devious way you
entered Starfleet, your numerous affairs, the lies you told
me about our baby, and the fact that you have sat back and
handed your only living son a death sentence by not telling
me the truth about your own illness." She watched him sadly.
"You have wrecked so many lives. You think that you can just
use people to fulfil your needs, then leave them behind when
you finish with them. It must be so gratifying to be the
centre of your own universe, Jack." She felt the tears
threaten again. "You have hurt everyone around you and I
wish to god I had never met you. I will do what I can for
Jacob, but I can't stay here with you any longer."

She turned to leave. Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her
roughly back to him. "Beverly, you have to stay. I need you.
Jacob needs you."

She looked at his hand on her arm, then back at him. "You
just don't get it, do you? It is too late, Jack! Because of
your selfishness, it has always been too late. I can't cure
your son now. The damage to his brain is permanent. I can't
undo what has happened to his neuronal cells. You should
have told me that you had Markov's a year ago when Jacob
first got the symptoms. I could have done something then.
But now it is too late, he will never be the same little
boy."

He became frantic. "But you are the best doctor I know. You
have to cure him."

"I can't. The best we can hope for is that there is enough
time left for me to stop anymore damage to Jacob's brain,
that's all."

Jack shook his head in vehement denial. "No! You will fix
him. I will make you fix him."

His hand painfully tightened on her arm as dragged her into
the hall.

Beverly felt her temper rising. She knew her leaving was
going to be difficult for his ego to take. There had to be
some way to get Jacob away from here, from him. She could
take him somewhere safe. "Jack, please let me go."

He misunderstood her and his face twisted. "It's him, isn't
it? You can't wait to get back to fuck that uptight captain
of yours, can you? Well I have already told him that you are
getting all you need from me."

Beverly looked at him like he was speaking in some alien
dialect. "You said what?"

"I told him you were sleeping with me." He started to touch
her, his hands trying to draw her closer to him. "I need
you." He groaned. "I need you Bev. If you'll just give me
what I need, you won't get hurt." He pinned her against the
wall, pressing himself to her.

She was reeling. He had told Jean-Luc that she had been
unfaithful? She remembered the communique. No wonder he had
been so shifty about it and digging for all that
information. Jack dug his fingers into her shoulders and she
winced in pain. Her brain moved into survival mode and she
forced herself to go slack.

She felt him sigh as she relaxed against him, she let him
touch her. She fought down her distaste. He was trying to
kiss her, his hand was moving over her breast. At the moment
she judged that he was too preoccupied to defend himself,
she brought her knee up hard into his crotch. His face
spasmed in agony and he let her go. She watched him double
over. She sobbed and pushed him away from her, then turned
and ran. She sprinted through the house to her room. She
scrambled through her medkit for a hypo. Her frantic fingers
were clumsy as she tried to load it up with enough of the
sedative ambizine to take him down.

She felt a shrill scream of desperation reach her throat as
she heard Jack coming down the hall towards her room. "Oh
god, oh god," she whispered desperately.

And then he grabbed her.

He pushed her hard and she fell onto the bed. Beverly curled
herself up defensively, instinctively protecting the child
inside her. She looked up at him, one last wildly hopeless
attempt to save herself. "I'm pregnant," she whispered.

Jack lunged at her, Beverly felt her panic start to
overwhelm her. He pinned her on the bed. She held onto edge
of mattress, frantically trying to push him off of her. All
the time he was talking to her in a low voice filled with
hoarse hatred, asking her how she could have led him on like
this, he had been her first lover, but she had betrayed that
and acted like a whore, let his best friend have her body.
He was asking over and over how she could have let him give
her a child, the child that should have by rights, been his.
Beverly was giving out frenzied cries of fear now. She
struggled under him, but his weight was pushing her down.
She could feel his hand on her leg, sliding upwards. Beverly
instinctively pushed it away and he groaned lowly. Then
there was a subtle shift in his intent. His hands started to
slide over her, his mouth nuzzled against her ear. He said
her name thickly, and allowed his mouth to move lower over
her neck, his teeth grazing her flesh. She twisted beneath
him and felt his hand pulling aside her skirt, his fingers
moving sinuously further up her thigh. With one last effort
she bucked under him, trying to push him away. Her hips met
his and she felt the bulge of his erection.

She knew then what he intended to do to her. Heavy dread
almost suffocated her.

The sheer horror of her situation causing her to stop
struggling, it was then that she felt the hard edge of the
hypospray underneath her hip.

His mouth was against her ear. "Fight me," he spat.

She realised with sickening shock that her desperation was
arousing him, that he was getting a sexual thrill from the
physical power he held over her. She knew she only had one
chance.

She reached for the hypospray and brought it up to the side
of his neck. She pressed the plunger and heard the hiss of
the sedative as it was released into him.

He convulsed once, and then slumped next to her. She pushed
him aside with a frantic yelp and sprinted out of room.

Her first thought was for Jacob, he must have been
frightened by the raised voices. She raced down the hall and
checked his room. She looked around not quite believing her
eyes. He wasn't there. Worry and concern pumped through her.

"Jacob?" she called.

She tried to calm down and think about the situation
logically. He had not had too many lucid moments lately and
his co-ordination was not good. He couldn't have gone too
far.

She traced her path back to her room, looking for him in
every room. Where would a frightened child hide? She
continued calling his name gently as she checked in the
corners of the room, behind the furniture. He was nowhere.
She was getting desperate now.

Then she noticed that the back door that she had thought she
closed was wide open.

In those few seconds, so many things ran through her head.
Had Jacob been frightened enough to have gone outside? She
knew the only path from the back of the house led straight
to the beach. Could he have made it that far? She didn't
stop to think what could happen to him if his made it down
the slope to the beach and into the water.

She was out the door and running.

---
Jean-Luc
---

He had travelled non-stop to see her, to be with her. He
hadn't told her he was coming. Now he grimly made his way to
the house. Just what hell he expected to see once he got
there, he had no idea. Was he hoping to catch her in bed
with Jack? His jaw clenched at that thought. Was that was
what it was going to take? Did he have to see it with his
own eyes? Catch them in flagrante delicto?

He felt his thoughts turning towards this situation with
Crusher. He looked inwardly for any clues from Beverly that
made what Jack was saying possible. Yes, it was true that
she had withdrawn from him lately, but she had probably been
too wrapped up in the frantic search to save Jacob to
realise. Or just too wrapped up in Jack, his mind sneered.
He pushed the ugly thought away. Could Beverly really
consider doing anything that would hurt their relationship
this much? Would she place all they had in jeopardy for
something as basic as sex? An icy feeling ran down his back.
Maybe it was more than just sex. Maybe she had fallen in
love with Jack again and for that feeling she was willing to
betray everything they had.

Or maybe it was all a lie, a dark, cancerous lie told to him
by a man who claimed to be his friend.

He closed his eyes and swallowed tightly. That last night
together, they had made love so tenderly before she had
left. He recalled her face, the look in her eyes as she had
said that she loved him. Whatever else Beverly was getting
from Jack, she had wanted him with a passion that she surely
could not be false.

He walked on, every step bringing him closer to what? The
end of his affair? The loss of his love? No he would not
accept that. He knew the minute he left the Enterprise that
he would fight for her. No matter what she had done, if she
would have him, he would take her back. He had to
acknowledge to himself that he still wanted her in a way
that left no room for pride or self respect. He needed her.
He knew he would go on wanting her until he took his last
breath.

He was at the house.

A noise caused him to pause. It was followed by a glimmer of
movement that caught his eye.

He turned his head and heard the sound of a small child
crying. He looked at the door and then back to the child. He
sighed. Comforting crying children was not one of his strong
points. This was definitely a job for the child's parents.
He looked down the side passage of the house. There appeared
to be no one else around. The desperate, frantic nature of
the child's sobs made up his mind for him. Giving one last
look at the front door he turned and walked over to where
the little boy sat with his knees pulled up tight around his
chin his hands covering his ears.

Jean-Luc bent down next to the child. "Hey, what's wrong?"
he said softly.

The boy shook his head, clamping his hands even harder
against his ears. He started whispering something over and
over. Jean-Luc leaned closer to hear the boy's words, but he
could not make then out. They sounded strangely garbled,
like the boy couldn't quite get his tongue around the sounds
properly.

"What's your name?"

No answer. Jean-Luc sighed. This was going to be harder than
he had thought. "Where are your parents?"

The little boy looked up at that. Jean-Luc felt a jolt go
through him. That face. It was so familiar. Then the
realisation hit him. If this was Jack's house, why should
this not be Jack's son?

"Are you Jacob?" Jean-Luc said gently.

The boy looked up at him and nodded. Jean-Luc's eyes scanned
the boy for any signs of injury and finding none he came to
the conclusion that what he had experienced had been
emotional rather than physical trauma.

"How come you are hiding out here? Where is your papa?"

The look of fear in Jacob's eyes as he said the word sent
sharp feeling of ill ease through him. He tried again. "What
about Doctor Howard? Where is she?"

Jacob's answer was to cover his ears again and turn away.
"He hurt her."

Jean-Luc's blood ran cold. "Who hurt her? Who hurt Doctor
Howard?" He realised his terse tone was frightening the boy
even further. He softened his voice. "I am her friend. I
came to visit her."

This got the boy's attention.

Jean-Luc continued. "I need to know who hurt her so that I
can help her."

Jacob sniffed. His twitched as a muscle spasm cramped him.
"Daddy, d-daddy hurt her."

Jean-Luc put his hand on Jacob's shoulder. He squeezed it
lightly and bent to scoop him up. "Let's go help her," he
said with grim determination.

---
Beverly
---

She ran down to the beach calling Jacob's name, but her
words were whipped away by the strong wind. She took off her
shoes and waded into the water. The conditions were rough
and the water was very cold. She was not the best swimmer
but desperation forced her out, looking for any sign of
Jacob. She sobbed his name. Calling him over and over,
knowing that if he had come this way and entered the surf,
there was no way his frail body could have kept him afloat
for long. She kept searching further and further out until
she knew that she was putting her own life in danger. With
despair, she wearily fought her way back to the shore and
sat at the edge of the pounding surf. She was chilled to the
bone by the water and the wind. Her hair hung wetly over her
face. It was no use she thought hopelessly. The ocean had
claimed him. She had failed him. He was gone. She beat her
fists on the sand in a useless orgy of frustration. She
threw her head back and cried into the wind, the warm salt
of her tears mixing with the vast stretch of ocean.

When it came, the touch to her shoulder was shocking in its
sudden warmth. Her head whipped around, the stinging wind
blowing her hair into her eyes. Then she saw Jacob. She
sobbed in relief. Not daring to believe that he was actually
in front of her, that he was solid, real and alive, her hand
reached up to him, grasping for him. But the hand that
reached out to grip hers was not a child's�it was long
fingered and masculine and strong.

"Let's go home," Jean-Luc said.

---
Jean-Luc
---

The look on her face...he would do anything to take away
that look.

He pulled her to her feet and swung her into his arms. He
felt her body being racked by tearing emotions and on a sob
she only just managed to contain, she said his name. He was
so aware of her, the length of her body against his the feel
of her arms around him. He captured her chin with his hand
and let his eyes roam over her. Even like this, she was the
most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Instinctively he
lowered his head and found her mouth, he kissed it gently.
His hands moving over her chilled skin, aching with need. He
knew he had to get her inside and out of her wet clothes.
Reluctantly he let her go.

"We need to talk," he said softly.

He saw her look away from him and back towards the house.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I..." No. she shook her head, refusing to answer.

Jean-Luc sighed, the sound coming from some deeply wretched
part of him. He watched as Beverly took Jacob's hand and
they started the short walk back to the house. He swallowed
tensely, not quite knowing what to say. Then with grim
resolve he followed her along the path and back to the
house.

He waited silently while Beverly put Jacob back into his
bed. The little boy was still upset, but obviously so much
happier now that Beverly was with him.

Jean-Luc looked around the room while he waited for her to
return. He saw subtle little signs of her presence. A
medical text lying discarded on a table. Her jumper slung
over the back of a chair. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm
down.

When she returned he said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

"Jacob is settled now," she said.

"Where is Jack?" He watched her face intently as he said the
name.

He saw her eyes grow shuttered. "He's in my room. When he
attacked me, I had to sedate him to protect myself."

"Jacob said that he hurt you. Is this true?"

She sighed wearily, not answering his question directly. "I
have just checked him. I gave him enough ambizine to knock
him out for at least twelve hours, maybe more. I didn't have
enough time to calibrate the hypo properly. I came damn near
close to giving him a lethal dose."

Jean-Luc moved closer. Just what had gone on between them?
What had they fought over? What the hell wasn't she telling
him? The words leapt unbidden to his mouth. "What happened?"

He saw her tense and retreat into herself. "He found out
about us. He got jealous. He tried to..." her words halted.
She was unable to go on.

Jean-Luc felt his fury flare. He left her and went to see
for himself. Her room showed signs of a violent struggle.
Her bed was in complete disarray and it was perfectly
obvious what form the attack on her had taken. He struggled
with his anger. He looked to the unconscious man on the
floor and he felt his hands ball into fists. Rage overtook
him. He took a step towards him, the temptation to draw back
his boot and smash it into Jack's face was almost
overwhelming. He desperately wanted to pull Jack up off the
floor and smash his fists into his face until he regained
his senses and then he wanted to snap the bastard's
neck�swiftly, cleanly. He wanted to see the shock on his
face as he did it, too. With a shuddering breath, he
regained control. Then he bent and picked up some of
Beverly's clothes from the shambles on the floor, and
without looking back, he turned and left the room.

He returned quietly and handed her the bundle of clothes.
"Get changed, then we take the boy and we leave."

---
Beverly
---

She was dreading this moment. Jacob was tucked in to bed and
now it was just Jean-Luc and herself. She had felt his eyes
on her, his unspoken questions. His silence. He had busied
himself getting them some tea. Beverly watched him. It hit
her then that he was blindingly angry. It showed in the
cording of the muscles in his neck and shoulders, in the way
that his every movement was being strenuously controlled as
he got the beverage ready. She remembered Jack's taunting
words about having told Jean-Luc that she was betraying him
and she shivered. What if he had told Jean-Luc? Is that why
he was here, to check on her, to find the proof of this for
himself? Was this the cause of his silent brooding? Whatever
it was she didn't want to face it now.

"I think I'll have a shower," she decided nervously.

He looked across at her and put down the cup.

She didn't wait for him to speak and she turned and left the
room. While she undressed in the bathroom, she thought about
the fact that there were only two bedrooms in the quarters
he had taken. Jacob was asleep in one. That meant that she
had to share the other with him. The thought made her
nervous. It was clear to her that he thought there was
something going on between her and her ex-husband. She
sighed and tugged at her clothes.

The shower was hot, the water stinging. She scrubbed away
all traces of the day, erasing the events from her body
until she felt clean again. If only her emotions could be
dealt with the same way. Her muscles ached and she was
feeling so tired. She let her hand rest on her belly. At
least her child was safe now. A sound behind her made her
turn around.

It was Jean-Luc. He stood staring at her. She looked over at
herself in the mirror and saw herself through his eyes. She
was covered in bruises, from large blue purple recent ones,
to the more pallid yellowy ones that had faded slightly from
Jack's first attack on her. They covered her upper arms in
almost perfect hand prints and they ran down between her
legs, a graphic legacy of Jack's attempt to assault her.

She heard the rough intake of his breath. "My God!"

She grabbed at her clothes, quickly pulling them on, trying
to cover herself. "It doesn't matter, Jean-Luc," she said
softly. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it bloody matters," he barked. "Did he do this
because he found out about us?"

She closed her eyes and spoke, trying to keep her voice as
level as she could. "He was jealous. He found out that I was
seeing you and he snapped."

He shook his head, still trying to comprehend. "Why was he
so jealous? Did you let that bastard touch you, did you
sleep with him?"

Her eyes flicked open, furious blue staring into tortured
grey, her eyes searched his, half refusing to believe that
he had actually asked her that question.

But he had.

"Did you?" he persisted when she said nothing. "I want to
know, I need to know." He choked on his words. "I have to
know."

She stared at him for a moment longer, her anger boiling
over. "Go to hell!" she hissed through bared teeth.

She turned and left the bathroom. She felt the tension of
the last two months clawed its way to the surface and she
felt it rock through her. Damn him!

He followed her to the bedroom.

She turned to him, icy in her anger. "Do you really want to
know what happened?" she demanded. "Do you really want to
know that he has been trying to fuck me for weeks?" She
wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "At first, I
thought he was just mistaking my concern for his son for
something more, but he started to harass me, touch me..."
her face betrayed her distaste. "I put up with it because
Jacob needed me. When he finally found out that I was seeing
you, he went crazy, he attacked me accusing me of leading
him on, calling me a whore."

The silence between them grew long and heavy.

She sat on the bed and then taking her time, she told him,
all about Jack and his attempts to hide his illness, the
fact that because he had concealed it from her, he had left
Jacob with next to no chance of recovery. And finally, her
voice a hoarse whisper, she told him of Jack's fury at
finding out about her affair with him. He said nothing
through it, letting her speak. His arm reached out to her as
her words finally halted, but Beverly tensed.

"There's more," she said tiredly. "I'm pregnant."

His jaw tightened and he pulled back from her.

"How pregnant?" he asked, after a long pause. He sounded
tight throated, as though this question had taken a lot of
asking, a nerve in his clenched jaw jumping.

Beverly felt her temper rising. "What do you mean, how
pregnant?" She stood and walked a few paces from him, then
she spun around to face him, really angry now. Did he
understand the enormity of what he had just implied?

He shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words now.

Her anger vanished. She was too tired, too fed up to argue
further. "I am eleven weeks pregnant, Jean-Luc. Do the
math."

She saw the shock etched on his face.

"It's alright, You don't have to do anything noble about
this. It's not like we planned it or anything. I can see
that you have doubts."

Beverly saw the expression of shock had been replaced by one
of guilt.

"I plan to have this child...I couldn't contemplate the
alternative."

Still he didn't speak.

The silence grew oppressive. She reached out and touched his
face, running her fingers lightly down over his cheek and
along his jaw. "I'm sorry," she said unsteadily.

He closed his eyes. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's how I feel."

"This child will be as much my responsibility as it is
yours. You are not on your own�you have me."

"Do I?"

She waited a moment to see if he would argue with her about
that, but he didn't. She swallowed a lump in her throat. She
hoped she wasn't going to cry again.

He turned away from her. It seemed like he didn't know what
to say to her.

She had thought about the possible ways this conversation
might go so many times since she had found out about the
baby. She had even imagined him telling her that he loved
her, maybe even asking her to marry him. But it was just a
fantasy. In her mind she had known that reality was always
going to be painful.

"I know I love you, deeply," he said finally.

"But you don't quite believe me?" She sighed. "I have been
through this before, Jean-Luc, and I refuse to do it again.
I will not do a DNA test on this child to prove a point to
you. I know for certain who the father is." She saw his lips
part to say something more, and she remembered that night
she had come to see him in his quarters, the first time they
had made love. Her mouth quirked into a smile. She stood and
locked her eyes on his.

"Trust me," she said simply.

Jean-Luc

It was the smile that did it. Trust me, she said.

He found he couldn't answer her with words.

Unable to stop himself he stroked her cheek with his
fingers. It was so soft. He had forgotten how soft her skin
was, how sweet she smelled.

Trust me.

His hands itched to slide around her bottom and haul her
into his arms. "Beverly. . . "

Her name slipped softly from his lips and her coppery brows
arched above her deep blue eyes. Was he only imagining the
invitation in them?

He said her name again, more hoarsely now, giving in to the
impulse to run his fingers up along her arm to her shoulder.
He half expected her to stop him, to push him away.

But she didn't.

Even when he combed his fingers through her hair before
trailing them sensuously down her throat, she simply stood
there watching him. His hands slid back down her arms to her
hands, linking their fingers together. Then with the
slightest pressure he urged her against him.

Beverly was a tall woman, but he had always thought that
they fitted so perfectly together. Cradling her face between
his palms, with his thumbs he stroked the faint shadows that
had appeared beneath her eyes since he had seen her last.

"I need you," he said.

He bent to kiss her. He waited for a long tantalising moment
before he allowed his lips to touch hers and then he let
himself claim her mouth. His hands moved down her back to
her hips, bringing her more fully against him. He let his
caress move over the swell of her bottom. "I want you," he
told her thickly, his words urgent as he returned his mouth
to hers.

He felt her hands wind around his neck. His fingers slipped
under her top to stroke the soft bare flesh underneath. He
lowered his head again and ran kisses along her throat and
over her naked shoulder. He slid his fingers into her hair,
pushing it back from her face and let his tongue run around
her exposed ear.

"I love you," he whispered.

Then his mouth closed over hers again, his hands sliding
down her body from breast to hip and back again. He began
peeling her top down. His hands explored, excited. He pushed
the top off altogether.

He felt her hands at his chest, slowly unbuttoning his
shirt.

Her skin was like satin beneath his fingertips.

He moved her to the bed, his mouth gently kissing away the
bruises on her flesh. He felt the gentle brush of her thighs
against his. "You have no idea how much have missed this,"
he murmured thickly. "The feel of your skin against mine."

He felt her leg move along his in a slow tormenting rhythm
against his inner thigh. He watched her smile and then her
mouth was on his skin, her lips kissing and loving. Her
hands moved over his chest and down, following the contours
of his flesh until her fingers were on him, stroking him.

He curved his hand under her bottom bringing her up towards
him. He felt her spread her thighs and he touched her
gently, he heard her soft sigh as he found out how ready she
was for him. She guided him towards her. He took her slowly,
stopping when he was fully inside her and he gave himself
over to the delight of being a part of her again.

He felt her hips thrust under him, urging him to move, her
mouth against his ear. "Do it," she said huskily,
provocatively.

It had the desired effect on him, he lost control and surged
into her again and again, wanting her, taking all of her.

Her body arched slickly under his. He let his mouth move
over her neck and onto her breasts. He listened to the low
sexy sound of her gasps as he loved her and all the time
they moved together, each thrust a little faster and deeper.
He felt her moan against his neck as her climax approached.
He lowered his lips to hers and the sounds of her orgasm
were caught by his mouth.

And then he was coming himself, pulsing into her hotly,
calling her name and then with a final shuddering groan, he
collapsed into her arms.

Trust me.

Her voice, sated and low, breathed against his ear. "I'll
take that as a yes, then."

He smiled.

---
Beverly
---

She approached the house cautiously. She waited on the
doorstep nervously, and then taking a deep breath, she let
herself in.

The house was still, too still. For a terrible moment she
wondered if Jack was dead. She pulled herself together. She
had given him enough sedative to knock out a Klingon, but
she was sure the dose was not lethal.

"Hello, Beverly," Jack's voice sounded from behind her.

Well at least he was alive. But, she thought grimly, he was
going to be more trouble alive than dead.

"Coming to check and see if I survived?"

He must have read her mind. She squared her shoulders and
turned around. She refused to be intimidated. "Something
like that. I was just thinking how much more pleasant you
are when you're unconscious."

His face twisted. "You bitch."

Another voice broke in. "Jack. That's enough."

Beverly looked past him and was surprised to see Sylvia
Rourke standing in the doorway to the living room. The
admiral nodded to her briefly and then turned her attention
back to Jack. "I need to examine Beverly now." She glanced
back at Beverly. "That's the reason I dropped by."

Jack gave Beverly a lethal look and shook his head. "Why?
I'm the one she tried to kill."

She took a step towards him. "You attacked me, you tried to.
. . "

He cut her off. "Oh, in your dreams, Bev." His face grew
distasteful. "As if I'd want you, especially after Picard
has had you."

This drew a curious look from Sylvia Rourke.

Beverly pointedly ignored Jack. "Shall we get this exam over
and done with then?" She walked past him, being careful not
to touch him.

Sylvia joined her and together they walked towards Beverly's
old room. Beverly stopped short. "Please, I 'd rather not go
in there. Can we do this in Nova's lab?"

Sylvia gave her a grim look and nodded.

After the door was closed Beverly gave out a relieved sigh.

"He hurt you again didn't he?" Sylvia said softly.

"He found out that I was seeing someone else."

"And he lost it?"

"Yes."

"Did he rape you?"

Beverly looked down.

"I'm sorry Beverly, but I have to ask. If he did we could
get the evidence. . . "

"No he didn't, I knocked him out with the ambizine before he
. . . " She hesitated. "Before he could get that far."

She looked up to find Sylvia shaking her head sadly. "You
took Jacob with you when you left?"

"Yes."

"Is he okay? Jack didn't. . . "

"No, he wasn't hurt. When Jean-Luc found him, he was curled
up outside, scared out of his wits. Judging by his reaction
I would say he has seen this kind of thing before."

Sylvia looked at her steadily. "Jack and Nova fought
violently, especially towards the end. Maybe that was where
Jacob used to go to get away from it. He was probably acting
on instinct. Where is he now?"

"He's with Jean-Luc. They are down at the beach right now. I
didn't want to bring him inside straight away."

The casual use of the captain's name had not gone unnoticed,
but Sylvia tactfully said nothing.

The exam took only a few moments.

"The baby is fine," Sylvia said, guessing correctly what
Beverly was most worried about.

"Your wrist is also healing well. The bruises will fade, but
I'm afraid the other scars will take longer to heal." She
packed away the tricorder. "I stopped by this morning to see
you. I was worried about how you were, after yesterday in my
office. . . " her words trailed away. and she smiled
tightly. "Instead, I found that you and Jacob were gone and
Jack was wandering around with a king sized headache. When I
scanned him and found the high residue levels of the
sedative, I knew something had happened."

"I came back here yesterday to get to the bottom of things,
but it all got out badly of hand."

Sylvia was nodding. She seemed to sense Beverly's reticence
to talk more about Jack's assault.

"I will finish my research from Medical. I am going to try
to design a specific amyloid beta protein inhibitor for
Jacob. Maybe I will be able to slow down the process of the
disease, there just isn't enough time to do anymore." She
heard her voice catch on that admission.

"I'm so sorry, Beverly," she said gently.

"It is just such a waste. I could have helped him."

"Jack convinced me against my better judgment that you would
find a cure without having to know about his Markov's. I was
a fool to go along with it."

Beverly sadly shook her head. "And now Jacob will pay the
price for that. Just like our son did." She stood. "I'd
better get him now. I have already explained to him that I
can't stay here at the house anymore, but I want to get him
settled before I go. I have yet to organise a nurse for him,
perhaps you can help me with that."

Sylvia Rourke recognised an olive branch when she saw one.
"I would be glad to help in anyway I can."

Beverly found Jean-Luc and Jacob on the beach. They had
managed to build a sizable castle in the sand. It was decked
out with seaweed and shells. Quite an impressive
achievement, she had to admit.

Jean-Luc's face broke into a smile at her approach.

"You see Jacob, I told you if we built a splendid enough
castle the fair princess would come to see it!"

Beverly laughed. "Why thank you, kind sirs, for my wonderful
new abode. The only problem is, how do I get in?"

Jacob's face broke into a huge grin. "Door," he said,
pointing.

Jean-Luc shook his head doubtfully. "I don't know Jacob. . .
that is a very small door and our princess is rather large."

"And I am only going to get larger too," Beverly laughed,
but shot Jean-Luc a speaking look.

He gave Jacob a handful of shells. "Here you are, young man.
Finish that off while I talk to the princess."

They walked down to the water's edge. "How did it go?" he
said.

"I saw Jack. He is fine, as insulting as ever." She saw
Jean-Luc's jaw tighten. "Actually, I didn't have much to say
to him. Sylvia Rourke is here. She came by to see me this
morning and put two and two together."

"I had no idea that she was so personally involved."

"Her heart is in the right place, Jack has used her too.
Just like he used everyone." She tried to keep the bitter
note out of her voice. "Now I have to hand Jacob over to
him. I know that he would never physically hurt his son, but
I am worried about Jacob's reaction to his father after all
of this. When I think of what he must have seen, how
frightened he must have been. . . "

Jean-Luc's hand tightened around hers. She looked back at
the little boy sitting next to the castle and her heart
sank. She didn't know how she was going to do this.

They walked back to Jacob and Beverly knelt down beside the
little boy.

"Jacob, it is time to go home to daddy now," she said
softly.

The change in the child's demeanour was instant. He grew
fearful. His tremors increased until he was having trouble
even staying sitting. Tears ran down his face. He gathered
all his strength together and let out a sob. "No!"

Beverly gathered him into her arms and soothed him. "C'mon
let's go see daddy. I bet he misses you."

Jacob shook his head.

Beverly looked to Jean-Luc. Her own feelings were echoed in
his face. "Sylvia is here visiting," she said brightly,
trying a different angle.

Jacob gave her a tiny smile.

"Yes, she would love to see you, too." She stood and held
out her hand. "Shall we go?"

Jacob nodded, but he was still wary and unhappy.

They walked back to the house slowly, Jacob's step
hesitating as they reached the back door.

Jean-Luc crouched down beside him. He placed his hand gently
on the boy's shoulder.

"Courage doesn't always roar, Jacob." His gaze moved to
Beverly. "It is often found in the most unlikely places." He
looked back to Jacob and smiled. "Now let's go in. Your
father is waiting."

----
Jean-Luc
---

Jack looked up as they walked in his gaze travelled from one
to the other, before returning to his son. "Jacob," he said
softly.

At the sound of his father's voice, the little boy began to
falter. Jean-Luc watched as Beverly touched his face briefly
and offered a comforting smile.

The gesture did not go unnoticed by Jack Crusher. "What the
hell have you been telling him?" he snapped.

Jean-Luc felt his indignation rising. Sensing this, Beverly
put her hand on his arm. She walked over to Jack and faced
him squarely.

"I have not told him anything, I didn't have to, he knows
what he saw."

"Oh? And what was that? My dear sweet ex wife trying to kill
me? No wonder the poor kid is traumatised."

Jean-Luc could stand it no longer. "I dare say it was what
he witnessed before Beverly was forced to sedate you that
that sent him running outside, Jack."

"I was wondering when I was going to hear from you." Crusher
turned to him. "You do know this is really none of your
business, Picard."

"If it involves Beverly, then I make it my business."

Jack gave him a cynical half smile. "Why so noble, Captain?
Does it have something to do with your guilt over fucking
your best friend's wife?"

Jean-Luc felt his fingers itch into a fist. He saw Beverly
look over at Jacob nervously.

He forced himself to calm down. He was not going to dignify
Jack's comment with an answer. "We came here to bring Jacob
home. Surely your son's welfare is paramount here."

"My son was just fine until this morning. Now he won't even
look at me. I want to know what you have said to him."

Jacob was becoming restless. He edged further back from
Jack. His father walked towards him, he held out his hand.
Jacob stilled, he had become rooted to the spot in fear.

It was Beverly that noticed it first, the betraying dark
patch on the front of the boy's trousers. In his terror, he
had wet himself. She made a strangled sound and in a split
second was by the boy's side. She grabbed his hand and
quickly took him out of the room.

Jean-Luc shook his head. "It would appear that your son is
now too frightened to be in the same room as you."

Jack's face was stunned for a moment. He stood with his hand
still held out, grasping futilely for the child. He turned
to Jean-Luc then, the horror of the truth behind what had
just occurred clearly written in his eyes. "He hates me."

Sylvia Rourke stepped forward. "Jack, I am sure he doesn't
hate you. He is scared and frightened by the way that you
are acting now, I don't think he knows who you are when you
are like this, and neither do I." She gently laid her hand
on his arm. "You are in danger of losing everything that
ever meant anything to you, don't you see?"

For a moment Jean-Luc was sure that her soft words had
gotten through to him. He looked at her with pained eyes.
But then he seemed to give himself a mental shake and the
mask was once again firmly in place. "I want to see my son."

Beverly was doing her best to soothe Jacob. The boy sat on
the end of his bed. Jean-Luc noticed how Beverly's hands
gently brushed Jacob's unruly hair back form his face, he
saw the way she had unconsciously adopted a non threatening
stance with him, kneeling down so that she was at his eye
level. He heard her gentle prattle as she talked softly
about anything and everything that came to mind to distract
him.

She would make a good mother.

But would he be a good father?

He realised that he had deliberately been avoiding doing any
in-depth analysis of his feelings about this fact. He knew
why, too. The thought of being a father scared him more
deeply than any thing he had ever faced before in his life.

Beverly's eyes were on his, a small smile at the corner of
her mouth, that special smile that she used only for him. He
couldn't help but return it. The connection between them
became palpable, alive.

The feeling called to him, pulling him towards her. They
needed no words. They would face this together. He felt
himself reach out to her. Beverly caught hold of his hand
and put it to her belly. His fingers touched gently, the
softest sweetest caress. My child, he thought. "I love you,"
he said.

"I know," she replied.

"Oh, how touching," said Jack.

Jean-Luc pulled back his hand, the private moment between
them shattered. He tried to keep his tone even. "I told you
to wait outside, and that I would bring Jacob to you."

Behind him Jack bristled with annoyance. "Yeah, well, I got
sick of waiting for you to finish pawing my ex wife, so I
invited myself in. This is my house, you know." He turned
his attention to Jacob and he smiled at his son. It wasn't
returned. Jack's smile faltered and turned sour.

Beverly and Jean-Luc exchanged glances.

Not taking his eyes off Jacob, Jack asked, "How is my son?"

"I have helped him change into some fresh clothes." With one
last gentle touch to Jacob's cheek she turned to Jack and
led him away, speaking softly. "I need to talk to you about
the progression of the disease. It seems that Jacob is going
to need to be helped full time with his toileting, the
Markov's has reached the section of the brain that controls
the more primitive functions..."

Jack brushed aside what she was saying. "How long until you
can fix him?"

Beverly lowered her voice to a whisper. "Jack, I've told
you, I can't cure this. The Markov's disease is too far
advanced the neurofibrillary tangles have resulted in
irreversible cell death in the frontal lobes." She shook her
head sadly. "I will move heaven and earth to try and stop
the disease in its tracks, but you have to face reality.
Even if I succeed in creating the amyloid protein inhibitors
in time, and that's a big if, your son will still be
disabled. He will stay as he is. I can't get neural tissue
to regenerate, we just don't have that technology."

Jack gave her a vicious look. "Are you enjoying using my son
to get back at me?"

Beverly was shocked. "What?"

Jack cut her off brusquely. "Is that the real reason why you
won't stay and find a cure for him, some perverted kind of
revenge, payback for your own dead child?"

Beverly was speechless.

Jack carried on relentlessly. "It seems that you want to
leave me stuck with a hopeless pathetic vegetable for a son,
that the best I can hope for is that he stops pissing his
pants every time he sees me. If you really can't cure him,
save us all the trouble. Just tell me how much ambizine goes
into the hypo and I'll get rid of the problem myself."

"Jack, stop it, for god's sake," Beverly managed to croak
out.

Jean-Luc had heard enough. He tried to keep himself calm,
"Beverly, why don't you take Jacob to see Sylvia. She's
waiting to see him." His words were light-hearted, but his
face betrayed his real feelings.

Jean-Luc watched as Beverly shakily spoke to Jacob, trying
to calm him. He could see that her face was pale and pinched
and she was close to tears. Damn the man! What the hell was
wrong with him? Beverly had nearly driven herself into the
ground to help Jacob. Jeopardising her own safety, putting
up with Jack's amorous advances and his brutal assault�all
for Jacob! He watched as she ushered the boy out of the
room. She looked back at him. He tried to smile.

He rounded on Jack. "That was way out of line."

Jack sneered cynically. "What, don't you think that your
Beverly would stoop to revenge?"

Jean-Luc ignored the taunt. "I think that you speak the
words of a man who will not face the truth. You alone did
this to your son. You hid your disease, putting your own
selfish needs ahead of your child's. You just can't face the
fact that you are the one who has done this to your son,
Jack, nobody else. You handed him a death sentence the
moment he was conceived. And now that Jacob has proved to be
imperfect, you wish to dispose of him." He shook his head.
He could feel the disgust twisting inside. "You lied and
pulled strings to get Beverly here. She left behind all that
mattered to her to stay and help your son. And how did you
reward that selfless gift? You attacked her!"

Jack waved his had dismissively. "She goaded me, taunted me.
I lashed out. Any man would have done the same."

A sinking feeling of realisation settled on Jean-Luc. "That
was not the only time you've hit her, is it?"

"Whatever she told you, she's lying."

"And Nova lied and Jacob is also lying." He didn't wait for
an answer. "You are the only liar here, Jack."

He watched the other man intently. "You lied to me about
your relationship with Beverly."

Jack showed no sign of remorse. He returned Jean-Luc's gaze
steadily. "She's my wife."

"You left her, Jack. Beverly is no longer yours," Jean-Luc
stated grimly in a clipped voice.

"But she was mine." Jack crossed his arms, a small smile on
his face. He had found the chink in his friend's armour. "Do
you think I didn't see the way you looked at her back then?
You wanted her so badly that you couldn't stand to see me
touch her. That innocence of hers, oh, Jean-Luc, it was like
a drug to me! And the fact that you wanted her so badly only
made me more determined to have her. And I did end up having
her...in so many ways. . . " He paused to let that sink in.
"Just think, Jean-Luc, every time you are with her in your
bed, everything she does to you, she did it to me first.
Every sigh, every moan. Tell me, my friend, does she still
get off when you. . . "

Jean-Luc snapped. He had heard enough. "J'en ai assez!" His
fist flashed eloquently through the air and landed squarely
on Jack's jaw. Jack's head snapped back and Jean-Luc watched
as he crumpled to the floor. The man sickened him to the
core. "Vous rendre malade," he said, with the most
satisfying sense of finality.

Without looking back, he turned and left the room.

---
Epilogue
Beverly
---

The day was sunny, unseasonably warm. A light wind touched
the tops of the trees, stirring them gently making them
sway. It was a day made for beginnings, thought Beverly
sadly. Not endings.

She stood with her husband, leaning into him slightly for
support. In her arms, she held their child, born just a
month before. He stirred in her arms and she kissed him,
rocking him gently, to lull him back to sleep.

The funeral service was simple.

There were no tears. Jacob had never liked tears.

His father did not attend. It was better that way. Jack had
caused Jacob far too much sorrow.

Sylvia Rourke spoke softly, and although her voice wavered,
she did not cry. She spoke of Jacob's bravery, his fight to
hold on to life, of the people who had worked so hard to
stave off the inevitable. And that the end, when it finally
came, was peaceful.

There were only smiles for Jacob, who had fought until the
last and now he was at peace. He was where he wanted to be,
with Nova and with his brother and nobody who had known him
could be sad at the thought of that.

When the short service was over, Sylvia Rourke had come
straight over to the Picards. They talked for a while about
her last months with Jacob. Sylvia had taken him into her
home after Jack had left and had treated Jacob like her own
son. She smiled now as she fussed over the new baby for a
few minutes, but Beverly could tell there was something on
her mind. She wasn't surprised when Sylvia asked to speak
with her alone for a moment. Beverly nodded and handed
Jean-Luc his child, she watched his face as he held the
little boy so close to his heart. Jean-Luc stroked his
finger gently along a little bunched fist. He smiled as the
baby opened his hand and grasped his finger tightly. He
wiggled his finger playfully, marvelling at the little one's
ability to hang on. Beverly had watched her husband play
this little game with the baby so many times over the last
month.

Jean-Luc never seemed to tire of it.

And Beverly never tired of watching him.

She joined Sylvia and they walked silently along the path in
the golden sunshine.
 At last Sylvia turned to her. "I have something to tell
you, Beverly. Now I know you are going to tell me this is
medically impossible, but just before Jacob died. . . " She
paused, as emotion overtook her for a moment. She looked
across the sweeping green lawn and composed herself. "Just
before he died, he spoke to me." Her eyes met Beverly's.
"Now I know how unbelievable this sounds, but he told me to
tell you that everything would be okay, because his big
brother Wes had come for him. He wanted me to tell you he
said 'hello.' Do you understand any of this?"

Beverly breath caught in a shocked gasp. She remembered
Jacob's promise to her all those months ago. I will say
hello to your baby for you. Tears filled her eyes and she
felt them run down her cheeks, but this time she let them
fall, sure that Jacob would understand that these were not
tears of sorrow, but ones of thanks for promises kept.

"Yes, Sylvia. I understand what he meant. . .  I understand
completely." She gave the older woman's hand a reassuring
squeeze. "And no, I will never say it was impossible. It was
a beautiful gift from a very special little boy." She gave
Sylvia Rourke a warm smile. "Thank you so much for sharing
this with me."

She looked back to her husband and child. She would join
them in a moment. There was just one more thing she had to
do. She stopped at the grave marker and knelt down, just as
she had done so many times before to talk to Jacob when he
had been alive.

"Goodbye, Jacob," she whispered. "And thank you."

A comforting hand touched her shoulder and then caressed her
cheek. "Ma bien-aim�e," Jean-Luc said tenderly. "It's time
to go."

The golden Terran sun was reaching its zenith, leaving the
shadows nowhere to hide. Jean-Luc held out his hand to her
and Beverly understood then. The universe was a web, where
each thread held a future. This one was theirs to hold.

Their future. Their life. Their love.

It was really as beautifully and gloriously simple as that.
She took his hand. She had conquered the beasts of the
shadows and emerged into the shining light of day.

---

The End