Oops

*There's something I'm forgetting.*

It was an uncomfortable feeling - one that she really disliked. So she huffed that annoying strand of hair out of her eyes and frowned at the computer screen.

If only Jean-Luc were here, he'd remind her. Where was he anyway? It seemed like he'd been gone a lot lately. And when he was here, all he wanted to do was sleep. That certainly wasn't helping her frustration level.

*Top secret missions, ha!* she thought, mimicking his "I'm telling you something I know you don't want to hear please don't hurt me" expression. She watched her reflection in the computer screen, perfecting the look.

"Beverly?" Jean-Luc was back and he was looking at her rather oddly. "What are you doing?"

"There you are. I was wondering where you'd disappeared to. Back from your latest secret mission?" Jean-Luc scowled and for the first time she noticed how exhausted he looked. The teasing stopped immediately. "You look terrible."

"Thank you," he replied with much dignity - at least as much as he was able to muster while still retaining enough energy to keep standing.

"Come on," she said, taking pity on him. He really did look tired. She took his arm and led him back to his quarters, escorting him directly to his bed and fussing with the blankets while he stumbled into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. He emerged looking as if he were asleep on his feet and she steered him into bed and covered him.

"Good night, Jean-Luc. Sleep as long as you like. I'll let Will know you're taking tomorrow off."

The only response she got was a snore.

*****

It took three hours of digging and some judicious questions asked of her favorite android before Beverly found her first clue. She was determined to know what Jean-Luc had been doing. What she found didn't soothe her one bit.

Initials. Lots of them. And dates, each one corresponding to one of Jean-Luc's missions. And then she looked at the current date. Not the stardate, but the current Earth-standard date, and suddenly she knew what had been bothering her all day.

She was not looking forward to the morning.

*****

It started as soon as she woke up. Her computer screen was displaying the "New Message" symbol and she seriously considered not reading it. After all, this whole thing was a joke, or at least it had been when it had started all those years ago. Was it her fault that the great machine that was Starfleet was so efficient in its inefficiency?

Curiosity won out and she read the message before leaving for work. It was what she had expected. Data was very thorough and he never forgot an important date - even if it was the wrong one.

The entire day was spent acknowledging people's well intentioned greetings. It was driving her crazy. When at last she was able to escape back to her cabin she was tempted to lock the door and not emerge again until morning. She didn't expect to be waylaid in the corridor by a jovial Will Riker.

*****

The "one drink" he'd cajoled her into had somehow turned into many drinks and she was feeling very very relaxed when he escorted her home, one arm firmly around her waist to help her stay upright and moving in a straight line.

She found it more than a little annoying that he had had much more to drink than she and yet *he* was treating her like she was drunk. She wasn't drunk. She was just, um, mellow. That was it. Yup.

"Whoa," Will said, laughing as Beverly nearly collided with the wall. "We're almost home, Beverly, just around the corner." Somehow they made it to her cabin, and Will managed to get her inside and to a chair before she collapsed. The look on his face as she landed struck her as hilarious and she started to giggle. Will chose the better part of valor and left - fast.

*****

She was still half-lying in the chair, tears streaking her face from her giggling fit, when the door opened.

"Oh, you're home."

"Oh, you're awake," was her response.

They remained like that for a moment, until she finally realized what she was seeing. He was wearing her favorite shirt; the soft blue, cut-down-to-there shirt, and a pair of very nice, very tight tan pants. And he was holding something in his hands... a gift bow?

"What's going on?" she asked, shaking off some of the effects of Will's special punch. The expression on his face had her intrigued.

"I know you've been wondering about all the secret missions I've been sent on recently. You see, these were not Starfleet missions." He moved closer, his face still half shadowed by the dim lighting in her cabin. His eyes seemed to glow, capturing her attention completely. "There is another organization, one whose very existence is denied by the highest levels of Starfleet command. They do not believe in the mission of this organization, although many people, even some high ranking officers in Starfleet Command recognize the necessity, even the inevitability of this group's mission."

He moved to kneel in front of her. "I have been appointed the Good Will Ambassador of this organization, if you will. A diplomat to represent and further the mission of this organization. Starfleet has no official knowledge of my work with this group, but some of the people in this organization have the power necessary to make sure I can continue my work with no interference from Starfleet Command."

"Why are you telling me this now, Jean-Luc? How long has this been going on?"

"I've been involved for nearly three years, Beverly. And I am telling you now because this organization finally has enough influence to allow me to do this..." He kissed her, a long, slow, toe-curling kiss. When he was done she was experiencing a whole different kind of intoxication.

"Hair of the dog," she mumbled rather incoherently, and kissed him back. Somehow she managed to knock him down onto his back, narrowly missing the coffee table. She followed him down, never breaking their kiss.

What followed was an epic session that defies any attempt at description. It was hot enough to register on the environmental systems control board as an overload.

*****

Much much later when Beverly regained the ability to speak, and Jean-Luc the strength to respond, he offered the only explanation he would give.

"Thank the organization, Beverly. They sent me as your birthday gift."

And Beverly, being a very wise woman decided to wait until morning to tell him that Starfleet records were wrong. Her birthday wasn't for months.

*I wonder if I'll get another gift?*

::: end :::

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