She was gone, completely. His eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for the flaming copper hair, the sapphire blue eyes and the elegant dress that matched them...she was nowhere to be seen.
“God, Beverly,” whispered Jean-Luc, weaving his way through dancers and crowds that stood to watch, his vision impaired by the low light that had been introduced as midnight drew closer. Still, he could not find her, and he was beginning to worry.
As he span around in despair he caught sight of the double doors that led out onto a balcony, left slightly ajar as if asking him to go through. With a hasty prayer he slipped through the gap and found himself outside.
The simulated room had been designed so it was high up in a tall building in San Francisco, and the small balcony overlooked the city and the bay, with the bridge lit up by golden lights. Out there the music was quieter but still audible, and the sweet, fragrant scent of potted flowers replaced the smell of food and drink that could be found indoors. Above were stars and a bright, full moon, among other bright lights from what he knew to be ships and stations in orbit. Jean-Luc had to admire the attention to detail that had obviously gone into the program, although he didn’t care for any of it right now.
Opposite him, leaning on the wall and with a near-empty glass in her hand, stood Beverly, and though her back was turned he could tell she was upset. He swallowed hard: hurting her was the last thing that he could ever want to do, and he’d made her cry.
She knew he was there before she felt his hand on her shoulder. As she turned to face him he saw that she had indeed been crying: she wiped the few remaining tears from her face and smiled at him.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she joked. He took hold of her hand and looked her in the eye – he could see that behind the initial sadness and disappointment their familiar, mutual expression was still there. She still loved him. And he had made her cry.
Stroking the pale hand he held in his own, Jean-Luc smiled back guiltily. “Are you all right? I’ve been looking for you.”
“Really?” She sounded disbelieving, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Well, I was talking to Commander Hutchinson, but I escaped before he asked for a dance. And then...well, I met Doctor Ralka, who I knew at the academy.”
“Ralka?” He realised too late how obvious his displeasure was. Trying to regain some dignity, he cleared his throat and continued. “Was he pleased to see you?”
She smiled, the usual conspiratorial glint returned to her eye. “Yes. He used to have such a crush on me...well, I talked to him, and he asked me to dance...”
“Did you?”
“Yes, why not?”
“Well, he’s...”
He loosened his grip on her hand and felt his face fall. All night he had ignored her, and as a result she had gone and danced with some past sweetheart. Damn it, Jean-Luc, you let her go again. You stood back and watched someone else take her...she belongs with you, man!
A playful look dawned on her face. “Jean-Luc, you sound almost jealous!”
“Well, you are my date.”
Her voice was surprised but still light-hearted as she replied. “I only agreed to come along because you promised to dance with me. And you haven’t danced with me, not once.”
“That’s because I can’t.”
“Yes you can. I know you can.”
“Not like you.” His gaze was loving and full of admiration, and it had a visible effect on her. Beverly’s expression changed. She looked at him wistfully, and he felt compelled to reach out and touch her...one finger gently caressed her face, brushing away a stray tear. For a moment they just stood there, together in the starlight, searching for the familiar love in each other’s eyes, longing to draw it out and share it with one another. Finally Jean-Luc spoke, his voice mingling with the gentle music that could be heard from the ball room, though the band and the other guests seemed worlds away.
“I want to apologize, Beverly,” he said quietly, “for being so ignorant towards you all night.”
She took his face in her hands. “You’re not ignorant.”
“Then I’m cruel. I should have been a gentleman and danced with you.”
“You aren’t cruel, either,” she answered, as the pale moonlight lit up her face, “and you are a gentleman. The finest I know.” He blushed slightly as her hands found their way around the back of his head, and she stroked the fringe of white hair fondly with her fingertips. “As long as you haven’t forgotten about me.”
“How could I?” he said with a smile. “You look beautiful...”
He slid his arms around her waist, and in the near-silence of the clear night he could feel their two heartbeats, in unison. Their foreheads touched lightly as a shiver of yearning crept up his spine...he needed her...
“Dance with me?” she whispered, and he smiled as he replied.
“I’d be honoured.”
They held each other closely as they swayed softly in time with the music that emanated from inside, though they seemed so far away...Jean-Luc felt a glow of pride deep inside him to know that even after an evening of being neglected by him, she was still willing to love him; to forgive him; to dance with him under the stars.
Beverly was glad that Jean-Luc had not kept his promise until now. Out here they were truly alone. It would not have been the same in the crowded ball room, surrounded by spectators, constantly worrying about who was watching and what would be said. No, now they were alone they were allowed to dance as they wanted to, as they had longed to for a long time...they were allowed to be closer than ranks and officers could ever allow.
“Jean-Luc...” she murmured, just before he kissed her. The music kept playing in the distance but now they could barely hear it. That moment when their lips touched the clock, wherever it was, struck midnight, as if signalling the end of one relationship and the beginning of a new one, as the new day dawned. They drew apart, and with a tap of his golden communicator Picard ordered the transport that would take them back home to the Enterprise, and back to his quarters, where only the night before they had been forced to say goodnight, and go their separate ways. Each of them smiled as the blue swirl of energy surrounded them and carried them away, each thinking the same: never again. They would always be together, from now until the last glimmering stars faded from the sky.
“I think that went rather well, don’t you?”
His companion, a certain admiral, nodded in agreement.
“Hmm. I think our work here is done.” She turned to follow him towards the drinks table, beckoning to the man beside her; her own date for the night. “Come on Chakotay, you owe me a dance.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
THE END
