The little town of Labarre was abuzz with activity, for it was St Valentine’s Day, and on that day it is impossible for such a place to be quiet.
In accord with the occasion, every shop was adorned with red and pink hearts, each window decked out with chocolates, flower and gag gifts of every imaginable variety. There were jewellery stores advertising diamond engagement rings and patisseries filled with heart shaped cakes and biscuits shining with red icing. Overhead the sky was a typical February gray and a cold breeze blew through the streets, but still the people were as friendly as their usual selves, chatting amiably amongst themselves about the festival of love. The crisp afternoon air was filled with the sounds of children’s’ laughter and shouts of delight as they discovered yet another window displaying a treasure trove of confectionary goods. Market stalls lined the street, offering hand made gifts or fresh, sweet-smelling flowers, and this was what caught the attention of Jean-Luc Picard.
Smiling, the gallant Starfleet captain took a single red rose from a nearby basket and handed it with a flourish to his companion, Doctor Beverly Crusher. She accepted the token of his affection willingly but gave him a look.
“I don’t know what it is about you and shore leave, Jean-Luc. It always seems to make you more flirtatious.”
He grinned and took hold of her hand. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Thanking the florist, they moved on up the road, each kitted out in thick, warm coats and gloves. “Come on, there’s an old bookshop up here I should like to visit.”
“You and your books,” teased Beverly, with an affectionate squeeze of his hand.
The two officers had taken a leave of absence whilst the USS Enterprise was in stardock undergoing repairs, and had chosen to spend their vacation at Captain Picard’s home just out of the little French town of Labarre. It had been Beverly’s suggestion, as chief medical officer, that he take some time off work, and her friend had agreed to do so on the one condition that she go with him. Beverly was, of course, only too willing to join him. After their arrival they had been joined a day later by Commander Riker and Counsellor Troi, who were both eager to enjoy their free time as best they could, and so the four of them were staying together at the family vineyard. The captain was happy to accommodate his two fellow officers, although he had been looking forward to spending some time alone with his doctor, as it wasn’t very often they were allowed more than a couple of hours together off-duty. As they walked hand in hand together down the quaint streets of Labarre, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but glow with happiness: he enjoyed her company more than he could ever let on, and it was such a rare opportunity to just be with her and be allowed to love her as he could not on board a starship. He had supposed that, since Valentine’s Day fell in the middle of their break, they might have been able to celebrate the festival themselves…as it was, this outing into town was the only time they had been given alone all day, so the pair were enjoying being like this while they could.
Thy stopped a little way before the bookshop to look in at the window of a jeweller’s. Every piece on display sparkled in the sun, which had been tempted out from behind its cloud to shine on the scene below, and miniature rainbows glimmered on their hands and faces as they admired everything.
A man approached them from the doorway, evidently a member of staff at the store and looking rather pleased with himself. Beverly supposed he was doing good trade, considering the date.
“We’ve got some beautiful things for Valentine’s Day this year. Really excellent silver.” He spoke in an accent not unlike the captain’s, though with less of an overall impression. Smiling, he turned to Picard. “Thinking of getting something special for your lovely wife, sir?”
Jean-Luc and Beverly bushed. “Er…we’re not married, actually,” the good captain replied, a little awkwardly. The jeweller raised his eyebrows, unfazed.
“I’d never have guessed, sir; you’re certainly quite a couple! An engagement ring, perhaps?” He looked on hopefully while Beverly shot her friend a playful look. Jean-Luc himself glanced into the window momentarily, thinking how wonderful it would be to by her one…he turned away and went to enter the bookseller’s shop next door.
“We’ll see,” he said, letting go of Beverly’s hand in order to curl his arm around her shoulders. She just laughed light-heartedly and followed him inside.
Inside the bookshop it was warm ad inviting: a fireplace crackled contentedly in the corner, illuminating the stacks of shelves and the old, comfortable armchairs, and the enchanting smell of yellowed pages drifted its was into every recess. The doctor watched Jean-Luc with a loving gaze as he ran his fingers over the antique books and endless pages of fiction, each one transporting him to a new world of wonder and intrigue. She felt so glad to have been allowed into this world where he had grown up, where he belonged…more than anything she wanted to belong here too, with him.
A little while later they stepped out into the clear, crisp air, having purchased a Dixon Hill novel, and went back to the jewellery store. Their friend had disappeared back inside, so they were free to browse at their leisure. It felt much colder outside the it had earlier after the warmth of the bookshop, and the doctor was pleased to feel his arm around her again to protect against the weather. Her eyes shone as she admired the diamonds and precious stones.
Jean-Luc leaned closer to her, his face right up close to her silken hair, and whispered in her ear, “I don’t suppose there’s anything you’d like, is there? You know I’d be happy to get it for you.”
“What for?”
“Well, it is Valentine’s Day.”
Turning to face him, Beverly couldn’t help but smile at the caring tone in his voice. She had no idea he took Valentine’s Day so seriously, or even, until today, that he knew when it was, and wondered now if it was partly why he asked her here: to spend the day of love with her. The thought made her wish that that they were alone, without Will and Deanna, so they could have the house to themselves that evening. Beverly knew how trivial the celebration was for many people, but if she and Jean-Luc were to take it a little more seriously…she knew he loved her, and God knew she loved him, and the day of love might just prove the perfect opportunity to tell him so. For so many years now she had longed to give herself over to him, to let him love her like she should have done a long time ago, and suddenly, with the prospect of wine, and firelight, that dream seemed closer to reality than it ever had before. If only they could get rid of their two friends…
“Jean-Luc, please,” she replied finally, “as if you need to get me anything. You brought me here. I don’t want anything else.”
“Are you sure?” Picard was surprised, if pleased, with her response. He suddenly felt a rush of pride and happiness that she enjoyed his company so much, and being with him in his hometown. After all, he had wanted to bring her here for a long time. He wanted her to belong there as much as he did.
“Absolutely. Now, let’s find the others so we can get a drink before we head home.”
“Hmm,” he replied approvingly. Before we head home. Our home. “I know an excellent coffee shop just around the corner…”
“What’s in there?” inquired the doctor, but Deanna just smiled wickedly.
“I like your rose, Bev,” she replied, gesturing to the red bloom in Beverly’s pocket, and then diverting her eyes to where her two friends linked hands. “You’ve obviously had an interesting day so far.”
Will smirked at the remark. “As have we.” He stood and straightened his shirt as if it were a uniform and he were on the bridge on the Enterprise, but then familiar habits are hard to break. “Are we getting back to the vineyard now?”
“Actually, Doctor Crusher wondered if we might stop for a drink. And I do happen to know an excellent café nearby.” Picard didn’t once take his eyes off the woman beside him as he spoke, though his words were directed at the other two. However, there were smiles of agreement all round, so the four of them proceeded to the quaint, cosy coffee shop. As they sat at their table, hidden away in an alcove, the group of friends talked about their experiences that day, and about the ship, floating so far above them; and fondly reminisced by telling tales of other shore leave expeditions. Riker and Troi laughed at the captain’s retelling of his and Beverly’s encounter with the jeweller. All were in agreement as to the appeal of the little café. It was inkeeping with the rest of the town, in that it featured a lively, flickering fire and a friendly reception. The three guests had all complimented the townspeople on their kindness and marvelled at how companionable they all were.
“Honestly, Number One,” said the captain, “the people at the local Italian are some of the nicest, and the food is delicious. It would make a wonderful night out.” Both he and Beverly silently hoped Riker and Deanna would take the bait and leave them the sofa and the fire at home to themselves.
Having finished their steaming hot drinks they ventured out once more into the cold air, to find that, it being February, the sky was getting dark and the first few twinkling lights of stars and starships alike were beginning to show. They were glad to head back to the Picard family home, where it was warm and comfortable and there was sure to be a glass or two of wine each, and so, their captain leading the way, they wandered wearily down the hill on which stood the town, and into the valley below. The house was visible from up on the hillside, amber lights glowing in the windows and acres of sprawling vineyard on every side. Beverly squeezed Jean-Luc’s hand again: her way of silently communicating everything she felt in that one moment, walking home with him, hands and hearts intertwined.
“Something the matter?” she asked. He met her gaze with a rather apologetic expression.
“We didn’t get anything special for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll be fine.” She smiled to console her friend, but with little effect. Sighing again, he continued, to extract purchases from bags, albeit reluctantly, He stopped suddenly and looked at his doctor again, his eyes full of intent, care and fondness.
“I could take you out.”
His words were surprising – another hint towards what he imagined might happen that evening. He wanted her to take it seriously with him. It was unusual for him to be so open with his feelings…but then, she supposed, that was what Valentine’s Day was for, to express love for those you care about, outwardly or inwardly. A strong wave of motion washed over her as their gazes locked and held.
“Will and Deanna are going out,” the doctor said quietly, felling an incredible warmth from him that seemed to link them together though they stood across the hall from one another, “we’ll have the house all to ourselves…I think I’d rather stay here, where we can be alone.”
It was daring to say such a thing, she knew, but it seemed to go down well with Jean-Luc. His face brightened up, and she saw the look I his eye that had been there when offering her a gift from the jeweller’s…he wanted to please her…though all she really wanted was to be there with him. His company and his love were enough, and as long as she had that, she wouldn’t care that much for lavish gifts or elaborately prepared meals. It was merely a question of whether he realised that.
A smile told her that, as usual, he understood perfectly.
An hour or so saw dinner simmering atop the range, an empty green bottle of the Picard ’38 beside it. Beverly and Jean-Luc were, now, alone - their friends had indeed chosen to dine at the local Italian, much to the relief of both captain and doctor, and had left early for their date – and so the house was calm.
The pair stood in the kitchen, blissfully happy chatting about old memories, neither one giving any thought to the outside world. They were enjoying the ability to just live, and not having to be caught up in duty and politics and science. Here, alone, they could forget the rank pips and just be Jean-Luc and Beverly, cooking dinner together…almost like a married couple. Just living. It was a time each of them considered incredibly precious.
Beverly’s face formed a frown as she studied him, studying her, and she wondered what it would be like if they were, indeed, husband and wife, as they had been repeatedly mistaken for over the past few days. It would not be like it had been with Jack, no, Jean-Luc was far more serious and refined. Now, it suited her, as it perhaps wouldn’t have done during the time she spent with Jack, almost two decades ago. It would be like it was now; on shore eave…the notion of spending every day like this was achingly wonderful.
Jean-Luc paused in his storytelling and looked t her wistfully, head tilted slightly to one side. “What are you thinking about?” he inquired, his rich, baritone voice recalling a smile to her lips, and bringing a slight bluish to her cheeks.
“Nothing, only…only you. It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure? It sounds interesting.” There was a glowing, mischievous tinge to his features that Beverly believed was not entirely caused the low lights in the stone floored kitchen.
“No,” she replied, “it’s not. I promise,” although her fingers were crossed behind her back. With a shrug he return to his burgundy red wine, and was about to continue the tale he had been retelling when a bubbling sound signified that their pasta was ready. Beverly hastily put down her glass and started over to the range, but Jean-Luc had her by the arm. His expression was stern and serious, yet caring.
“You’re my guest, Beverly. Let me take care of it.”
Setting his drink down, he loosed go of her and lifted the boiling pan onto the work surface. She sighed. “I came here to be a part of your life, Jean-Luc. Not to be a burden in it.”
Halfway through sieving the pasta, his arm froze in mid-air and a hurt look leapt to his face.
“You’re not a burden! I would never see you like that. I just don’t want you to have to work all the time, since we’re on shore leave…” He wandered over to her, a desperate tone in his voice. “I don’t want you to think I’m treating you like a housewife.”
The doctor’s heart softened. Again, he had put himself at a loss by trying to please her – hell, as if he had to try. She smiled at him lovingly. “I appreciate that. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to let me help with dinner, would it?”
The look he gave her served as both acknowledgement and apology. They stood for a moment just looking at one another, contemplating what he had said, before Beverly carefully slid two gentle arms round him, holding him close against her. She whispered to him, “You’re right, we’re on shore leave. So you’re allowed to take a break yourself, you know.”
The warm softness of each other was overwhelming. He buried his head in her flaming auburn hair, taking in the sweet scent of her. They drew apart with a smile and exchanged a fleeting kiss; then, wordlessly, went about preparing the meal. It was enjoyable to work together, slicing meat and vegetables to add to the pasta, because it was such a simple, everyday task, and something they did not often get to do on the Enterprise what with the luxury of replicators. The appetising smells of pasta, tomato and chicken filled the room, but it did not compare to the comforting, familiar smell and taste of each other, when Jean-Luc dragged his companion from her work to kiss her and hold her once more.
He frowned. “Surely you must have heard all of them by now?”
“Probably,” she replied with a grin, “But I love your stories. All of them. You tell them so vividly…in fact, I almost recognised the vineyard when we first got here, you described it so well.”
Their loving gazes met across the table. Picard rose and took their dishes back to the kitchen, before returning to Beverly and, upon taking her hand, leading her to the sofa where he pulled her down to sit with him. Laying there with her head against his shoulder, she murmured, “it feels like home here, Jean-Luc…with you.”
His hand stroked up and down her back sleepily. “You are welcome to call it home, my dear doctor,” he said softly, “God knows I’ve wanted you here long enough.”
The remark caused her heart to flutter. Opening an eye to inspect the wine bottle on the table before them, she turned her head and looked up at him. “Another glass?”
“Yes.”
They sat up simultaneously and reached for the bottle, hands meeting in the middle. Jean-Luc smiled at her.
“I’ll do it, it’s all right.”
She sat back and said, in a teasing voice, “I thought we agreed you didn’t have to do everything for me.”
The flames reflected in the deep scarlet wine as it flowed from the bottle Jean-Luc held, and as he handed her a full glass his sincere, handsome face was illuminated with an amber glow.
“I’d do anything for you, Beverly.”
A pang of desire grew in her heart as he said it, and it didn’t go away. Lowering her glass without taking one sip, she instead took his face in her hands and smiled with happy anticipation of what they both knew was coming next.
They closed the gap between them in a deep, luxurious kiss – not only the physical gap between their lips, but also something deeper; a void that friendship had struggled to fill. The inviting warmth of her mouth lured him in, and she welcomed the touch of his tongue on her lips, both of them enjoying the intimacy they had dreamt of for so long. For a moment they pulled apart to draw air into their lungs, and somehow managed to murmur “I love you,” in unison before surrendering once more to each other.
Head buried into his neck, the doctor closed her eyes I contentment at the feel of his gentle fingers smoothing over her hair.
“I know,” she said in his ear, “but you don’t always need to. Just being with you is enough.”
He turned his head to face her with a smile, and was about to kiss her again when he stopped, millimetres away from her lips, so she felt his breath on her face when he spoke.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Beverly.”
There was a gleam in her eye as she stroked his cheek with one finger and gently pressed her lips to his. She felt a comfort there with him: they were home. They belonged together, in each other’s arms, in that moment.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.”
THE END
