First Light

"Tell me," she commanded, then ruined the effect by giggling. It made him smile around the bottle he was drinking from.

"Give me that." She took the bottle from him. Not that he was able to put up much of a fight anyway. He'd just come back from Will Riker's bachelor party and was much more than just a little drunk.

It didn't help that she was in much the same state having just returned from Tokyo where Deanna's bachelorette party was still in full swing. She wiped off the mouth of the bottle before tipping some of the liquid into a glass.

They'd found a quiet corner in this nearly deserted nightclub and sat there, talking and drinking, brandy for her, vodka for him. It wasn't what either of them usually drank, but they'd somehow forgotten that when they ordered. Especially since sometime in the last hour they'd decided to share.

They would have preferred a restaurant to this seedy club with it's shabby decor and worn out stripper but neither of them were exactly sober enough to risk being seen anywhere but here. After all they were officers, and Starfleet could be as demanding as a military organization when it came to conduct unbecoming an officer.

They'd both begged out of their parties early, neither one comfortable with the wild antics. Meeting unexpectedly in the transport station, they'd decided to get a bit of "hair of the dog" before heading off to visit a mutual friend. It wouldn't exactly do to show up in the quiet of town of Alto, Michigan at this time of night and in this state. Especially when neither of them really wanted to make this trip to begin with.

"So how is Mrs. Keel?"

"I spoke to her this morning and explained that we would be late. She insisted anyway. Said she'd leave the light on for us."

"She always was determined to have her way, Jean-Luc." Beverly slurred. After all she was an elementary teacher for nearly 30 years. You have to be determined to survive a job like that."

"Uh," Jean-Luc grunted noncommittally and scowled at the empty bottle before him. Across the table Beverly continued to nurse her drink oblivious to his scowl.

"We're out of brandy," he informed her. "Shall I order another?"

"No. Jean-Luc, we can't stay here all night. We've got to get to the Seattle transport station before it closes."

"I know," he sighed. "It's hard to believe it's been 30 years."

Beverly was lost. "What's been 30 years?" Jean-Luc wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Nothing. Forget it."

"I hate when you do that. Now tell me. What's been 30 years?" Even pleasantly drunk she didn't let anything slide.

"Since I've been to that nightclub.

"Which club? The one in Florida?"

"Um hm," he confirmed wishing he had never brought it up.

"You mean the night club in Lake City, Florida, right? The one they rename the Lake City Lockup? The one they built the police station across from to save time arresting people?"

Jean-Luc groaned, "Yes."

"When were you there before?" she demanded, her voice rising loud enough to attract attention.

"Yes, for Walker's bachelor party." He stood suddenly, swaying a little and pulled her to her feet. "Come on. Let's get out of here." Just a bit unsteadily he led her out of the club. Autumn air felt good after the stifling heat of the club.

Once outside she turned to him and demanded, "Spill it, Jean-Luc. Jack was at that party and refused to tell me a thing. I want to hear all about it."

Turning, he walked away, letting her catch up as well as she could. He wasn't about to tell her anything willingly, the memories from that night so many years ago had haunted him since Will Riker had announced the location of his party. But he knew that look, that tone of voice. Even drunk he couldn't refuse Beverly anything, no matter how much it hurt him.

They walked slowly, leaving the seedy parts of town behind. They passed a library and finally an all night store. Jean-Luc had managed to prolong his story about that night, but he knew from Beverly's impatient fidgeting that he would have to get to the point soon. Needing to fortify himself (and get rid of the headache he was just beginning to feel) he pulled her into the store.

"Two large bottles of headache reliever," he requested. The salesperson studied him for a moment, sizing him up as if he were a drug dealer before finally getting the items. Jean-Luc paid for them and quickly left the shop. Beverly following close behind was just as glad to get out of that stifling little building. Her head was beginning to feel like a balloon.

They walked a short way to a park and took a seat on the nearest bench, each taking a dose of headache reliever. Within seconds their headaches were gone, but Jean-Luc wasn't feeling any better.

It took him the better part of an hour to tell the story, trying to edit out any unflattering details about Jack. But Beverly knew him far too well, just as she had known Jack. She listened carefully to what was said, and how he said it, and then translated it into what she thought was a closer version of the truth.

"And so Jack confronted me about my feelings for you. He wasn't upset, just trying his best to keep me from making a fool of myself."

"And he did such a good job of it that he's kept us apart for more than 20 years. Jean-Luc, Jack never, never meant for that to happen." She reached out to caress his cheek. "Jack was a wonderful, wonderful man, but he never understood that things don't last forever. Death was just something Jack didn't think of. If he had he never would have said what he did."

"No, that wasn't all of it Beverly. Jack was right. It would have been disastrous for us to get together then, even if Jack weren't around. Our goals were too different."

"And now? Now that we both know where the other stands? Now that we both know how the other feels? Now that we're no longer afraid?"

"Now is different." he assured her, leaning over to give her a gentle kiss.

*****

It was nearly dawn when they finally arrived at the Keel residence, hand in hand as they walked up the sidewalk. The first rays of sunlight were just breaking the horizon, and Jean-Luc stopped a moment to watch. A golden glow streaked the sky and finally, after 30 years, the memory of that last night brought him no pain.

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