Life's Work

"Another one?" he asked frowning.

"Braxton-Hicks," she replied, then gasped, convincing neither of them.

"Contractions are contractions," he answered sternly, then softened it with a caress and a kiss.

"Doctoring the doctor again dear?" she teased, then cried out as a strong contraction hit.

"Enough, Beverly, I'm taking you to sickbay."

"Fine, fine," she conceded, panting through the pain. "Get your shoes on and we'll go."

"How can you think of shoes at a time like this?" he demanded, his demeanor far from that of an always in control starship captain - in fact he looked down right panicked (something that Beverly was in no mood to tease him about now but would store carefully away for a future date when she was bored or he was playing "stuffy old starship captain" on his off duty time) so she did the one thing sure to get him back under control in a hurry and moaned, embellishing the moment with a full range of dramatic gestures and expressions. It worked. Jean-Luc was instantly contrite.

"Keep breathing," he urged her, abandoning the search for his shoes; (actually he loved running around in his bare feet but he'd never ever admit it.)

Leading her slowly down the hall, he held her as close as he could, supporting her. Many of the people in the hallway smiled, some offering a quick word of encouragement for the couple. Never had Jean-Luc Picard been so grateful to his crew; he could feel his nervousness lifting with so much encouragement; beside him, Beverly smiled despite the pain. Orderlies greeted them when they arrived at sickbay, escorting them into the delivery room where Alyssa was waiting.

"Perfect," she announced, showing Beverly the tricorder readings. Quietly Jean-Luc backed away, watching as Beverly and Alyssa went through the necessary preparations, waiting until she was settled in the birthing chair before going to her side.

"Relax, Beverly," he urged, "you're doing fine." Stroking her forehead, Jean-Luc tired to concentrate only on the woman before him, blocking out the bustle of nurses and doctors around them. "Take a deep breath," he instructed, then breathed with her, trying not to think about the eternity that he'd been standing there beside her, watching as she struggled to bring their child into the world.

Unknown to him, Beverly had worked out an agreement with Alyssa weeks before, arranging to have painkillers administered discretely as needed (although she knew they would not harm the baby or diminish the experience, Beverly preferred to use few or no drugs) this time she made an exception); she could not imagine trying to get through transitional labor with him *hovering* the way he did. Very few of Jean-Luc's habits bothered her as much as his tendency to smother her when she needed some breathing room.

When the time came to push, she was glad for his presence, even more thankful for his soothing words. Xerosis had plagued her throughout this pregnancy and even now the skin of her hands was dry and chapped, making his comforting grip painful, but the pain helped her focus on pushing.

"Yes." she cried, feeling the body of her child slide free at last. "Zavier?" she questioned Jean-Luc.

"Zoe." he replied, using the pet name she'd teased him with these last few weeks.

"You're happy?" she asked tiredly, leaning back and waiting for the doctors and nurses to stop their fussing so she could see her child. Xerostomia had been diagnosed in utero so Dr. Hill was standing by to treat it immediately - dry mouth syndrome wasn't serious, but it was easier to correct in a newborn - Beverly had agreed to have the procedure done immediately after birth and knew that it would be easier on everyone if it was taken care of; Jean-Luc had agreed with her, reluctant to consider the possibility that there might be something seriously wrong with their child, especially since it had taken them so many months of trying before Beverly had conceived after the last try had ended in miscarriage.

"Words fail me," he replied, tears filling his eyes as he watched Alyssa carry the tiny bundle across the room.

Very carefully he took the baby in his arms and studied her. Until that moment he had never really understood, never really believed how wonderful this could be. Tiny hands waved at him, reaching upward and a tear glistened on his cheek; a gentle caress wiped it away, reminding him that there were others present.

"She's as beautiful as her mother," he whispered, handing her the bundle with exaggerated care. Regardless of the audience he might have, he kissed Beverly on the lips. Quietly, the baby began to cry, still slightly groggy from the surgery.

"Pretty girl," Beverly cooed, holding the baby close and peering into her watery blue eyes. "Oh look at you - so strong." she smiled as a tiny fist closed around her finger.

Nurse Ogawa interrupted the couple reluctantly. "Maybe you would be more comfortable in bed, Doctor Crusher?" she asked, helping the woman out of the birthing chair.

"Let me," Jean-Luc offered, taking the baby again while Alyssa helped Beverly slowly to her feet and across the few meters into the cheery post-delivery room.

Kelborian crystal moss filled vases and bowls around the room filling the room with a delicate scent and reflecting the soft lighting into soft shimmering rainbows.

"Jean-Luc, you didn't," Beverly asked, easing back against the raised pillows and taking in the lovely details that had been added to the room. "It's beautiful, thank you."

Handing her the squirming bundle again, Jean-Luc thanked Alyssa and watched as she retreated, closing the door behind her. Grateful to be left alone at last, he moved the room's only chair close to the bed and watched as Beverly unfastened her gown to nurse their baby.

Feelings of love and contentment filled him, amazing him with their intensity. Eager little swallowing noises made him smile, taking the edge off the intensity of his emotions, allowing him to laugh out loud.

"Dear, I believe she has your appetite," he managed to say at last.

"Certainly does," Beverly agreed, wincing slightly as she shifted the baby to the other breast.

"Beverly, " he asked at length, after the baby had finished nursing and had been lulled to sleep by her mother's gentle touch, "is it always like this; so..." words failed him.

"Always." she answered contentedly and he knew, as usual, she was right.

:::end:::

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