Chapter Text
Beverly spritzed herself with perfume and tilted her head back. "Do you like?"
Jean-Luc strode over and buried his nose in her neck, deeply inhaling. "Smells delicious. What is it?"
"Hibiscus and Jasmine," she said as she laughed and pushed him away. "Don't lick it! It'll taste like perfume."
"I can't help it when I'm presented with such a lovely neck as yours." He circled behind her and pushed her hair to one side to kiss the back of her neck. "There. No perfume back here." He trailed kisses across to her bare shoulder, licking and sucking. Beverly opened her mouth and let out what Jean-Luc could only describe as a purr. He ran his hands down the sides of Beverly's dress.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for the blasted zip!"
Beverly laughed. "There isn't a zip. It has hooks." Jean-Luc’s eyes sparkled as he found the first little eyelet and deftly unhooked it.
"Jean-Luc..." Beverly turned to face him and held his hands in hers. "We can't. We have to get to the banquet." Jean-Luc leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss. "We can be late."
"Not bloody likely. You're the prince's guest of honour." Jean-Luc frowned, then grinned. "Once he sees how beautiful my wife is, I think he'll understand."
"Beautiful? All he'll see is a twenty week pregnant woman who shoved herself into a ballgown like a sausage." Jean-Luc cupped her face.
"Beautiful." He trailed his other hand down to her stomach and lightly caressed it. Beverly blushed. When she had been pregnant with Wesley, Jack hadn't paid her nearly as much attention. Then again, Jack had only seen her a handful of times between telling him she was pregnant and Wesley's birth.
"Mommy! You look pretty!" eight-year-old Wesley raced into the room with the nanny trailing behind holding Katie in her arms.
"I'm sorry, Captain, Doctor. Wes insisted on seeing you before he went to sleep." Jean-Luc grinned and ruffled Wesley's hair. "That's alright Ensign. But Wes, once you say goodnight to us, you're going straight to bed. Ensign Rubley will read you a bedtime story, or perhaps you can read it to her?" Wesley grinned. It had quickly become a nighttime ritual for his step-father to read a chapter to him and then Wesley would read the next one. "Ok, Papa. Mom? Aren't you squishing Clara?"
"Maw mee! Baby!" Katie exclaimed and held her arms out to Jean-Luc. "Pup pup!" Jean-Luc grinned at the two-year-old and took her from the arms of the nanny Admiral Quinn had arranged for. "That's right. Mommy is having a baby." Katie giggled when Jean-Luc blew a raspberry on her stomach. Beverly and Jean-Luc had only taken guardianship of the toddler a few weeks ago when Annisyn had decided she was unable to be a mother to her. Beverly had understood. Annisyn was young and Katie only served as a reminder of Jack Crusher. Jean-Luc, on the other hand, had been disappointed, especially when she had decided to take a leave of absence from Starfleet. He was going to miss his 'daughter'.
But, he and Beverly had gained a daughter in Katie. Since they had been taking care of her on and off since she was born, the transition had so far been easy.
Beverly laughed and took Wesley's hand. She placed it where Jean-Luc’s had just been. "The baby is down here. It's safe and comfortable."
"Ok. Goodnight Mommy, goodnight Papa, goodnight Clara." Wesley's parents each kissed the top of his head before Ensign Rubley ushered him and Katie back to their rooms.
Jean-Luc turned back to his wife. "Where were we?"
"You were rehooking my dress and we were going to that banquet." Jean-Luc frowned. Beverly grinned. "Tell you what, I'll let you undress me when we get back."
Jean-Luc pondered this offer for a moment before he grinned. "Perhaps you'll be feeling unwell and need to leave early?"
"And naturally, I'll need my husband to escort me?" Jean-Luc nodded. Beverly laughed and kissed him. "I'll see what I can do."
###
Jean-Luc hated these affairs. But after the destruction of the Stargazer, Jean-Luc had been temporarily assigned to the diplomatic corps. The diplomatic corps, Jean-Luc soon learned, spent most of their time attending formal functions with heads of state. Jean-Luc hated his dress uniform. It was a long, red tunic paired with form fitting trousers. If it hadn't been for the length of the tunic, everything would have been on display. Jean-Luc suspected that had been the original idea until someone finally had a bit of sense. He stuck a finger in his collar and pulled it away from his neck.
"Too tight?"
"No, just uncomfortable. How long do you think these speeches will last?" He spoke low into Beverly’s ear and gently kissed her earlobe. Nearby, the Prince's consort sighed. The honourable Captain never shied away from showing affection to his wife.
Beverly, not noticing the look they were getting reached for Jean-Luc’s hand and gave it a squeeze. "Soon, I hope. We're famished!"
Jean-Luc grinned and slowly reached for a roll and passed it to his wife, shooting a sheepish glance at the Prince. The Prince nodded in understanding and quickly ended his speech.
After the dinner, there was the dancing. As honoured guests, Beverly would be dancing with the Prince, while Jean-Luc would dance with his consort. Beverly tried to hide her grimace as the Prince stepped on her foot.
"I am sorry, Comtesse Picard. I am sure you would rather be dancing with your husband, no?" Beverly grinned. Despite the title being only honorific, the Prince of Sarcalucent had been highly impressed by Starfleet sending the Comte and Comtess. "You're a fine dancer, your highness!" Beverly said through another grimace.
"You humour me. My wife says I am a very bad dancer. No doubt she is enjoying dancing with your husband. I am sure the Comte does not step on your feet when you dance?"
"Jean-Luc is an excellentdancer. His mother insisted both he and his brother learned." The Prince nodded sagely. "Ah, yes. My mother tried with me as well, unfortunately....well, you can see the results for yourself." Beverly tried to smile, but she became distracted by a Yeoman who approached Jean-Luc. Beverly watched as Jean-Luc gave a little bow to the Prince's consort and had the Yeoman usher her back to her seat before he approached Beverly and the Prince. He gently touched Beverly's arm.
"I'm terribly sorry. It appears our son has had a night terror and requires us to return to him." The Prince frowned, but then nodded in understanding. "I myself have seven children."
"We have three, and the one on the way."
"And they were all with you when your ship was destroyed?" Jean-Luc nodded. "Our ship was a ship of exploration, not battle. We were unaware we had strayed into anyone's territory the day we were attacked. Our son is eight, so you can understand how hard this has been on him."
"And your other children?"
"An adult daughter from a past relationship of mine who was also serving with us, and our daughter is two."
"Ah, the women outnumber the men, then."
"Indeed."
"And are you hoping for...?" Jean-Luc grinned. "Just a healthy baby. But if you'll please excuse us..." The Prince nodded. "Yes, of course, Comte, Comtesse."
Jean-Luc gently placed a hand on Beverly's back and ushered her out of the hall to the shuttle for the ship they were currently staying on. "That was a stroke of genius, having the Yeoman come over and make up a story about Wes."
Jean-Luc grimaced. "I only wish it was a story, my love." Beverly frowned. "The destruction?" He slowly nodded. "Wesley woke up and thought the ship was on fire, then panicked when we weren't in our room."
"Oh, Jean-Luc, what are we going to do?" Jean-Luc offered a sympathetic smile.
"I think it's time Wesley has a conversation with Marska."
"I think you're right," Jean-Luc entered the shuttle and extended his hand to Beverly. Beaming had started making her ill, so a shuttle was dispatched for their use during her pregnancy.
The trip back to the Excelsior was quick and soon Beverly and Jean-Luc were rushing through the corridors back to the posh quarters they had been assigned. Apparently, being a diplomat afforded quarters even nicer than the Captain's!
They entered Wesley's room and he was sitting up in bed, screaming. "Mommy! Papa! Annie! Uncle Wally!!!" Jean-Luc exchanged looks with the babysitter. "I'm sorry, Sir. Once he wakes up from one of these..."
"I know, Ensign, I know. It's fine. You did the right thing. Is Katie alright?"
"I'll go check on her, Sir, but she was fast asleep. How she managed to sleep through Wesley's screams I'll never know."
Jean-Luc took off his dress boots and crawled into the bed next to Wesley, against the wall. He gathered the boy in his arms as Beverly tried to get herself into the bed on Wesley's other side - not an easy task in a ballgown while pregnant. She settled for perching on the edge and patted Wesley’s leg.
Wesley was softly crying now, blubbering into his father's neck. Jean-Luc gently rubbed Wesley's back. "It's alright Wes. We're here. Mom and I are both here. You're safe. You're on the Excelsior. Uncle Wally is on McKinley station, Abby is teaching on Earth, and Annie is at home in La Barre. Katie is sleeping next door."
"Fire?"
"There's no fire, my little cadet." Wesley sniffed. "I don't like the ship, can we go home?" Jean-Luc exchanged a glance with Beverly. They were afraid of this. If Jean-Luc and Beverly wanted to serve on a ship again, they planned on doing it together and with their whole family, but if Wesley was going to be afraid of being on a ship, that would change things for the couple. Not to mention they still had a few more weeks of various diplomatic missions before Beverly could start her maternity leave. "Wesley, why don't you like the ship?"
"What if it gets attacked?"
"It won't. We're orbiting a peaceful planet. Once we're done, we'll go home for a short visit, alright?"
"To see Tante Marie and Oncle Robert and Annie?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Soon, Wes. I don't know when. Maybe in a few days? But then we’ll probably get sent somewhere else again and need to be on a ship. Would that be ok?" Wesley tearfully nodded. "Ok. Mom, will you read to me?"
"Sure. Just one chapter, buddy. Then it's back to bed with you." Jean-Luc passed Beverly the book Wesley had been reading and she started to read along. Soon, Wesley's eyes became heavy and he closed them, still clinging to Jean-Luc.
Jean-Luc gently untangled Wesley and laid him back down on the bed to tuck him in. He gently rose from the bed and helped Beverly to stand. "Now," he whispered, "Didn't someone promise I could undress them?"
###
Beverly had her tour of the Royal Infirmary the following day, and Jean-Luc frowned while he watched her put on her maternity uniform.
“I don’t like you going into a strange hospital. What if you get an infection?” Beverly shook her head at her husband. “Then, I take an antibiotic. Besides, I have my shield.” Beverly pulled out a small device from her labcoat pocket and wrapped it around her wrist.
“What does that do?”
“It puts a mini force field on me at the porous level. I can still touch things and people, but nothing will transmit through my pores and it will filter anything airborne.”
“Wow, where’d you get that?” Beverly grinned. “Wally.” Jean-Luc raised his eyebrows. “Well, remind me to thank him. Now, what about protection in case you get attacked?” Beverly rolled her eyes and placed her hands on either side of Jean-Luc’s face gently. “It’s a peaceful planet. I’ll be fine. You’ll be in the palace with the prince and we have our comm badges if I need you.” Jean-Luc placed his hands on her hips and pulled her in close to rest his forehead against hers.
“I’d just feel better if you’d take a member of security with you.” Beverly sighed. “Fine. Who do you suggest?”
“Take that Klingon fellow with you.”
“Jean-Luc. Don’t you think he’s a bit....intimidating?”
“Ensign Worf is a very good security officer, so I’m told. And if Sarcalucent ever has hope of joining the Federation, they’ll meet Klingons soon enough. Besides, I like him. He has potential.”
“Why do I feel like you’re auditioning him?”
“My love, I am always looking for potential crewmen and officers. You never know when the next commission will happen and I’ll need to put together a team.” Beverly rolled her eyes again. “Alright. I’ll take Ensign Worf with me. Now can I go?”
“No, not yet,” Jean-Luc’s eyes twinkled. “What now?”
“This.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now finish getting your uniform on so we can use the same shuttle.”
###
“Ah, Comte Picard, who is that very large...creature with your wife?” The Sarcalucent prince looked on in curiosity mixed with fear.
“His name is Ensign Worf. He is a Klingon, and a member of Starfleet security. I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of assigning a security detail to my wife.” The prince waved his hand “No, no, perfectly reasonable. But he’s very...large.”
“Yes.” The prince clapped his hands. “So! The Comtesse will tour our Infirmary with the Royal Healer and you and I will discuss options, yes?” Jean-Luc nodded wearily. He really was getting tired of these talks. It was getting them nowhere as it seemed as though the prince had no real intentions on joining the Federation and had only asked them to come so he could show off. In addition to the grand ball, Jean-Luc and Beverly had been treated to many extravagant shows, meals, and gifts. Once the prince saw Beverly was expecting, he had sent them a white, jewel-encrusted bassinette as well as gifts for Katie and Wesley. Beverly had been presented with a necklace for herself and a bracelet to give to Annisyn and Jean-Luc had been given several bottles of some kind of alcoholic beverage made from the small fruit that grew on vines on the planet. The fruit was similar to grapes, but the alcohol was much stronger. Jean-Luc planned on giving a bottle to Walker, and then opening the other with Robert.
“Ah, follow my aide and I will be right with you. Shall I have the servants bring some wine?”
“Oh, no thank you, your highness. It’s a little too early in the day for me to imbibe.”
“Nonsense! It is never too early. I will have some breakfast wine brought in!” Jean-Luc shook his head. Breakfast wine? I’m really glad I took the precaution of having Beverly give me an anti-intoxicant before we left.
“Of course, your highness. Whatever you would like.” The prince of Sarcalucent grinned. “Please, Comte Picard, you may call me Ruparg.”
“Thank you, Ruparg. You may call me Jean-Luc.” Jean-Luc followed the aid down a long corridor into the room they had been using for the negotiations, though Jean-Luc struggled to really call them that. He sank down onto one of the large satin cushions on the floor, grateful he was able to wear his duty uniform. An aide rushed in with a silver decanter and goblet and handed the goblet to Jean-Luc. He gave the ‘breakfast wine’ a sniff. It smelled strong, and tasted even stronger. “Thank you. Where has the prince gone?”
“His royal highness will be with you shortly, he had a matter he needed to tend to.”
“I see.” Jean-Luc was more than a little agitated. He had planned on speaking with the prince while Beverly was touring the infirmary, then explaining that they would be leaving as it was becoming obvious Sarcalucent wasn’t actually interested in joining the federation.
Jean-Luc stewed, becoming more and more annoyed when he suddenly heard a loud boom. He jumped up from his cushion and knocked over the wine before grabbing the aide.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know, Comte.”
“Well, find out!” Jean-Luc paced the room anxiously as he waited for the aide to return. The aide walked back in with his head down.
“Comte Picard. I regret to inform you that the Royal Infirmary has just been blown up by a terrorist cell.”
Jean-Luc pushed past the aide and ran through the corridors hurrying to the exit and sprinting across the courtyard. He had only one word on his mind – Beverly!