The BLTS Archive - Winter of the Goddess
by RosyRock (rosyrock1968@yahoo.com.au)

---

Published: 02-07-06

Updated: 02-07-06

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns them all. I just lure them into a static
warp bubble, where anything goes!

This is part 3 in my "Goddess" series. I think there may be one more
story in this series. Tell me what you think!

---
With your hand in mine
We will walk the way of the dark divine
Oh how I dreamed of things impossible.
Seems like a life ago
I had walked the fields where the flowers grow
I had picked the bloom of my beautiful sorrow
Oh how I dreamed.
Sometimes I feel your pain
Like a driven nail, like the falling rain
Like the future pulled through an open vein.
Oh how I dreamed.
See the gaping wound
The blood on which I float
Your love is both the poison
And the antidote
That saves me.

"Oh how I dreamed" by Wendy Rule

---

Beverly woke early. Her back was killing her. She shifted her weight.
The child in her womb kicked her in protest.

She sat up in bed and ran her hands over her belly. There was no
denying it, she was huge. No wonder her back ached so much!

She slid her feet into her slippers and made her way downstairs to
make a cup of tea. Her child, lulled by the gentle movement of her
body, stilled and went back to sleep.

Beverly sat in the kitchen of her Nana's house on Caldos.

The night had been cold, but the old wood stove stood warmly, still
offering its heat.

Beverly had returned to see the glory of late summer on Caldos come
and go, the leaves had turned into the gold of Autumn, and now the
bare branches of winter.

The wheel of the year had turned. The dark of Samhain had balanced the
brightness of Beltane. I've almost come full circle. Soon the baby
will be here, she thought.

Yes, whispered the Goddess.

Beverly sighed and let the memories wash over her. It had been so long
since she had seen Jean Luc. His name carried with it a wave of
sadness and regret so intensely physical it made her gasp as if she
had been dealt a blow.

Jean Luc. Can't you feel my pain?

She had been so full of hope when she had given him her news. She had
been sure he would be as happy as she was to find that she carried the
child of their love in her womb.

Instead, he had reacted with anger and disbelief. She remembered the
stinging words he had thrown at her. Asking her how she, as a doctor
could have let this happen to herself, to them.

She had told him the truth. She didn't know how the impossible had
happened, only that it was so.

Then they had been drawn into the tragedy of the house fire at La
Barre, Jean Luc's sorrow at the deaths of his brother and nephew.
Next, the drama of the Nexus and the resulting loss of the Enterprise
D.

Beverly watched as Jean Luc's world had fallen apart around him. The
more she had tried to get closer to him, to comfort him, the more he
had avoided her. It seemed the thought of the child growing in her
belly and all it represented, was something he was not ready to face.
She wondered secretly if the wisdom of the old ones was true when it
said that men have trouble coming to terms with the changes in their
lives. For women the phases of life, like the triple Goddess- the
maiden, the mother and the crone- were so easily understood, but for
men, fearing the impact to their lives that being a father brings, it
was not so clear cut.

By the time that she was to be reassigned, things had gotten so bad
between them she had asked for extended leave, hoping against hope to
get a reaction from him.

She had been to see him before she left the Enterprise and had told
him gently of her plans to return to her Nana's house and bear the
baby there. She had kissed him and told him she would give him time to
face his demons. Jean Luc had seen her to the transporter room and
let her go.

So she had come home to Caldos.

Home to her people.

They had welcomed her with open arms. She was a powerful healer, as
her grandmother had been before her. That her belly was full of the
fruits of the Goddess at Beltane caused not a stir.

She had tried to contact Jean Luc, but she had received no answer to
any of her messages. Her troubled thoughts plagued her soul. Was she
destined to walk this path alone, to raise another child on her own?

Though Will and Deanna she had found out that Starfleet had plans for
an Enterprise 'E'.

Of their Captain they had heard nothing. Deanna had seen her friend's
sadness, sensed her fears. "Don't worry, Beverly. He'll be alright,"
she had said. "He'll come to you."

But he hadn't.

And soon his baby would be born.

She felt the now familiar tears begin to fall like winter rain.

And outside the Goddess wept with her.

The room was growing lighter. The pink fingers of dawn were spreading
across the grey sky.

There was a knock on the old wooden door. She made no move to answer
it.

The knock sounded again, more urgently this time.

Beverly got up out of her chair and stretched her aching back.

She walked over to the door, having lost none of her natural grace in
the last month of her pregnancy and opened it.

"A man could freeze to death out here in the rain, Beverly Crusher." A
voice said in deep teasing Gaidhlig.

Beverly answered him in the same language. "And what would you be
doing out and about at this time of the morning, Ewan McDonald?"

"I was on my way to see to the traps, when I saw your light on. I
thought I would stop by and make sure everything was alright with you
and the bairn." Ewan said.

Beverly grew serious now. "I'm fine, Ewan."

"You've been crying," he stated.

She couldn't deny it.

Once again he cursed the man that had bought such sorrow to her.

Ewan McDonald was a giant of a man with the build of a rugged
highlander. He had a very soft spot in his heart for Beverly Crusher.
He had been her friend for many years and at one stage had been much
more. She was his childhood sweetheart. He had been her first lover.
His picture, he knew, still stood in her room.

She had left him behind to explore the stars, been married, a mother
and then widowed too soon.

And now she was back again with the child of another in her belly.

He wondered for the umpteenth time just what sort of man this 'Picard'
of hers was. That she loved him dearly was obvious. The child she
carried was much more that just the product of the lust of Bel's
fires. She was soon to give birth to his bairn, and yet the man Picard
had never come to see her.

He was obviously a fool.

Beverly stood watching him, her hands braced behind her back as she
stretched her muscles. The movement accentuated her girth and Ewan
wondered how it was that he could still find her so attractive even
this far along in pregnancy, and to another man at that. The woman had
something of the Goddess in her for sure. She was just as beautiful
now as she had ever been.

She smiled at him. "Why don't you come in and get warm. I'll make you
something to eat. I could do with the company."

The man that fathered the baby on you should be here to keep you
company, Ewan McDonald thought darkly.

But he smiled for her and said, "That would be grand."

They sat and talked and, by the time he was ready to leave, she was at
least on the surface, happy.

She walked him to the gate. He put his arm around her waist, his hand
on her belly and bent down to whisper a joke in her ear. He felt her
laugh. He couldn't resist pulling her closer, placing his lips on
hers, remembering the feel of her, just one more time.

Beverly was for a moment too stunned to react, and let his lips caress
hers.

And so they were when Captain Jean Luc Picard came upon them.

His resolve almost faltered as he took in the sight before him. A very
pregnant Beverly in the arms of a very handsome man. The man was
kissing her, and it certainly looked like she wasn't complaining.

He cursed. Loudly.

"Jean Luc!" the shocked words slipped out of Beverly's mouth.

Ewan looked closer at the man approaching them. So this was her
'Picard'.

He was older than he'd thought.

Balder, too.

But the man had a presence and, from the look in his eyes, unfinished
business with Beverly Howard.

The couple standing before Jean Luc broke away from each other but, he
noticed, the other man did not remove his hand from Beverly's waist.
It was a gesture of protection, of ownership, of rivalry.

Gracefully, Beverly left Ewan's side.

She walked the short distance to face him.

"So, you've come," she said shortly, full of fire.

Jean Luc marveled at her spirit. He had treated her appallingly, had
left her to cope while he had wallowed in his own self pity. He had
thrown away the gift she had offered him. . .

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Well, you'd better bring your bags into the house before I change my
mind."

She turned her back to him and walked slowly down the path towards the
house.

Jean Luc picked up his bags and followed behind her.

Beverly stopped to talk quickly to Ewan McDonald.

"Is this him?" Ewan asked.

"Yes it is," she answered.

"Do you want me to hit him for you?"

"Not yet."

"You know where I am if you need me."

The Gaidhlig had flowed so fast between them that Jean Luc had truly
felt like an outsider.

Ewan cracked his knuckles, threw a truly menacing look at 'Picard' and
walked slowly away.

Inside the house Beverly turned towards Jean Luc. She lifted an
eyebrow and crossed her arms.

Her body language said 'This had better be good!'

Jean Luc placed his bags beside the door and looked at her.

"Beverly." She felt the child inside her kick as he said her name.

"Jean Luc," She answered as cool as could be.

The silence stretched between them.

"So what brings you back to Caldos?" Beverly said at last.

Jean Luc winced. Oh merde! I deserved that.

He lowered his head, ashamed.

Beverly nodded at his bags. "You can put them in my old room. I think
you know the way."

She turned and dismissed him.

Beverly went straight into the kitchen. Oh shit, did she need to sit
down. She had felt her heart leap at the sight of him coming along the
road to the house. Thank God Ewan had been there to hold her back or
she would have run down the road to meet him like some lovesick school
girl. She had to play it cool. Let him woo her if he wanted her. Let
him think that she had taken an old lover back into her life. Let him
suffer!

She smiled and patted her belly. "Your daddy's come home," she said
softly.

Upstairs Jean Luc was not feeling at all well. The picture on the
dresser. That's where he had seen the man she was with before! He
picked it up. So the old flame had returned had he, offering a
shoulder to cry on and god knows what else. . .

Beverly heard him moving around in her old room upstairs. She quickly
gathered her wits together and by the time Jean Luc entered the
kitchen she was busying herself with some cleaning.

She heard him cross the room and felt a prickle of anticipation as he
came to stand behind her.

He put his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her around until
she was facing him.

She didn't want to meet his eyes, so she let her head drop.

She shivered as she felt his fingers move softly over the skin along
her jaw, then onto her shoulder and down her arm until he reached her
hand. She felt his fingers lace through hers warmly. She watched his
thumb massage the palm of her hand, the sensual movement causing a
frisson of arousal to race through her.

He used his other hand to tilt her chin up.

His eyes locked on hers. "I love you," he said softly, simply.

She saw his head lower and closed her eyes to receive his kiss.

His lips were warm and firm.. how I dreamed of this. . . she felt his
hands
draw her into his embrace The kiss became hungrier. His hands moved
down her back and onto her rear.

He pulled her into him as close as her belly would allow and held her
there as if he were afraid to let her go.

She let herself indulge in a small caress up along his back and then
kissed the side of his neck. She parted her lips and let her tongue
slip out to taste him. She had to know that he was real, not some
illusion.

She heard the hiss of his breath between his teeth. His hands
tightened on her butt and she felt his mouth against her ear. His
whispered words of lust made her skin glow as hotly as the sinful
things he was saying to her.

Beverly felt her body giving in to him. So much for playing hard to
get, she chided herself.

Jean Luc's mouth had left her ear and was moving down her neck onto
her shoulder. She felt his touch as he moved the neckline of her
blouse so he could kiss her further down. He gently undid the buttons
and let his hand slide lazily inside to cup her breast.

"Why can't you just say 'sorry', like everybody else?" she scolded
softly.

He smiled. "I'm sorry, Beverly."

"I find it hard to have a conversation with your hand on my breast,"
she said seriously.

"I don't," he stated flatly. He bent to kiss her again.

The child between them chose that moment to move restlessly in her
womb.

Beverly felt Jean Luc's reaction. Startled, he removed his hands from
inside her blouse and placed them gently on her belly.

"Does it do that often?" he asked in wonder, but before she could say
anything the baby answered for her, stretching and kicking an
affirmative beneath his hands.

Beverly smiled, Jean Luc was such a serious man and it showed as he
concentrated on feeling the movement of his child inside her. So
different to Jack - he'd always had a joke to crack or a funny
one-liner to lighten the situation, but this man. . . as different as
night
and day they were. She knew that Jean Luc's emotions ran so
deep. . . everything he did, he did with passionate intent. She had
seen
that so many times during their friendship and even more so as his
lover.

"My child," he said softly, possessively.

And at that moment she forgave him everything. . .

"Make love with me," she said softly.

"Are you sure?"

Beverly answered him physically, with a kiss.

Jean Luc had undressed her slowly, He was being so gentle with her,
treating her as if she was fragile, made of glass.

Beverly was pleased at his restraint but after so many months of
longing she wanted him. -Now.

"Jean, we can do more than just kiss you know."

Beverly took his hand and placed it on her belly. "It's okay to have
sex right up until the baby's born." She moved his hand further up to
her full breasts. "You just need to learn the right technique, that's
all."

She moved against him. "I have to feel you in me Jean Luc."

It was all the encouragement he needed.

She showed him the ways to pleasure her, how to make love without the
baby getting in the way., The sight of her fertile body responding to
him only enhanced his enjoyment.

At last Beverly felt her orgasm break over her, she gasped sweet and
low, and let the man she loved feel exactly how pleasurable it was for
her. She heard his moan as he too gave into the bliss her body had
given him.

They lay together sated, their legs entwined, Jean Luc hard up against
Beverly's back. His hand across her belly.

Jean Luc spoke into her ear, "So where does this leave your admirer,
Ewan?" he said smugly.

Beverly stretched and answered, "Well I suppose he will still have his
sweet memories of me, when I was young and slim and innocent."

"It seemed like he was after more than a memory to me," Jean Luc
almost huffed.

Beverly was enjoying this immensely. "He cares for me."

"You still have his picture in your room"

"Well, Jean Luc, a woman never forgets her first lover."

Jean Luc was speechless.

"Don't let that gruff exterior fool you," she went on. "He was a very
gentle and tender lover, he taught me. . . ."

"Beverly! I don't want to hear that! Jean Luc exclaimed.

"Well, you asked!"

"The picture goes!" he snapped.

"Yes, Jean Luc," she said sweetly.

She felt his smile against the skin on her shoulder.

Beverly chuckled happily. He had come home to her.

Their child stirred within her. She felt Jean Luc's gentle hands move
over her belly, comforting his restless baby.

As his hands moved, he sung a gentle song in French.

"What's that you're singing?" Beverly asked.

"A lullaby my maman used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep," he said
softly.

Beverly turned towards him, drawing him into the heat of her embrace.
"I love you too," she said, and kissed him.

Outside, the tears of the Goddess had stopped. She would return soon
to Caldos, after the long winter's end. Her sunlight now shone
brightly on the house, warming it with the first traces of spring.

---

The End