Summary : Over breakfast, Picard lets something slip.
"More coffee?" he asked.
"Please?" She held out her cup.
"Go on with what you were saying?"
"You were listening!"
"Don't sound so incredulous. Yes I was."
She shrugged, surprised at this unusual behaviour from her husband. Normally, when she told him about the evolving relationships aboard the Enterprise, he didn't seem interested.
"Where was I? Oh yes - your Science Officer , Michael Otaki. He's become rather uncooperative. Whenever I ask him to join Phillipa and our visiting botanist on a visit to the surface he always finds some excuse."
"Do you want me to order him to accompany them?"
"No, not yet. I'll try and work it out. Another croissant?"
Picard felt his stomach. "I think I can risk it."
While Beverly went to the replicator he stretched and yawned.
"Try seeing it from Michael's perspective. I imagine he's feeling much as I did when Odan caught your attention..." He stopped mid-sentence.
His feelings about Beverly and Odan weren't something he'd ever spoken of and he hadn't meant to now. He looked sideways at her, hoping she hadn't been paying attention.
She had.
Beverly's blue eyes were staring back.
For half a second she was tempted to tease him, but this was no teasing matter. It hurt when someone you loved obviously preferred someone else. She placed the fresh croissant gently in front of him and sat down.
"I imagine that was similar to how I felt when Nella Darren was aboard."
The pair of them gave one another a brief glance, then looked away. The subsequent silence was awkward.
Picard fumbled with his food. It was his mistake for bringing up the subject and he felt duty bound end it.
"Beverly ... whatever happened in the past ... or might have happened, I'm happy now and with the future I hope to have with you. I've no regrets."
She grabbed for his hand and got croissant too. "Me neither ... except perhaps that I should have said yes earlier... " she looked at her sticky hand, " ... and not given you this croissant."
He smiled and lifted her hand to examined it. "Oh I don't know, I like the taste of croissant." He leant forward and licked slowly and delicately up her index finger.
Beverly shivered at his touch.
Pausing at the tip, Picard raised his eyes to hers and asked, "Are you in a rush?"