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From: captain973@aol.com (Captain973)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: REPOST: "Pictures of Eternity" (4/4, P/C)
Date: 28 Feb 1996 23:34:07 -0500
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<<Insert disclaimer here...>>

	It was all Jean-Luc could do to keep from running full out down
the corridors on his way
to sickbay after his shift. His brief shift had seemed to drag by
endlessly, and now that he was
free, the only thing he could focus on was being with Beverly.

	He strode purposefully into sickbay and quickly made his way to
his wife's bedside,
where Dr. Selar was quietly checking on her. "How is she?" he asked in a
low voice. Selar shook
her head slightly. "We are having difficulties keeping her stabilized. We
are unable to give her
some of the medications that are normally used in cases like this, due to
her condition." The look
of worry on his face was replaced by one of slight confusion. "Condition?"
he repeated. One
Vulcan eyebrow arched. "I would assume from your reaction that you do not
know." Picard, by
now, was rapidly losing patience. "What condition?" he repeated almost
frantically.

	Selar sighed. This was not the best day to be acting CMO, and it
was certainly not a
good time to tell the captain of the ship something his wife should have
already told him. "Dr.
Picard is approximately eight weeks pregnant. That is the reason we are
having problems
treating her." Jean-Luc had already stopped listening after he heard the
word "pregnant".
*Beverly is pregnant? We're going to have another baby?! But why didn't
she -* The he
remembered. She had tried to tell him when they were on Tarquenia, but
they had been
interrupted. And, it would explain why she had been so tired lately, as
well why she hadn't been
eating much. He tuned back in just as Selar was saying, "...it may be
necessary to terminate the
pregnancy in order to save Beverly. I will inform you immediately should
that become a
necessary action."

	This was too much. First his wife was lying in a coma, and now he
was being told that
possibly the only way to save her was to terminate the life they had
created together out of love.
He backed away from the doctor, as if to put distance between the ugly
truth behind her words.
Before he lost composure, he quickly turned and retreated to Beverly's
office.

	Once inside, he sat down behind her desk and stared at the shiny
top. Out of the corner
of his eye, he saw something that captured his attention. There, off to
the side on the desk next
to Beth's baby picture, was his and Beverly's wedding picture. In it, they
were both smiling
happily, hands clasped tightly. The glint of matching gold wedding bands
was visible on their
joined fingers, the rings signifying their promise of forever...

	*"Okay, one more..." _Click_. "All right, that should do it,
Captain, Doctor. I'll let you
know when these are done." Lieutenant Nichols, ship's official
do-everything officer, put her
camera away and went off to develop the pictures. As at all shipboard
events, she was
functioning as photographer today.

	The smiles had not been cajoled and forced on this day. They came
easily and often.
Captain Picard looked to his bride and gestured to their awaiting friends.
Dr. Beverly Picard
squeezed his hand tightly and whispered in his ear, "This dinner had
better not take long, Jean-
Luc. I don't think I'll last." His mischievous grin mirrored her own. "Dr.
Picard, what a thing to say
about your own wedding dinner. After all the work they've done..." He
tsked. She trailed the
fingers of her free hand provocatively up his arm. "How 'bout we shove
some cake in each
other's face, eat a few forkfuls of food, and go... elsewhere." He
swallowed thickly, trying to
shove from his mind the effect she always had on him. Then he smiled wide.
She pulled him
over to the waiting table, a small triumphant smirk on her face. She had
won, again...*

	Jean-Luc shook himself out of his daydream. The memories were
becoming easier and
easier to escape into lately, since he feared that they might be all he'd
have left soon. *Knock it
off, Jean-Luc,* he told himself. *She's going to be fine, no thanks to you
and your morbid
thoughts.* He stood, determined, and strode out of the office and to
Beverly's bedside.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

	"Just what the hell were you hoping to accomplish with your stunt,
anyway?" Commander
Will Riker hollered at the leader of the terrorist group. The man sat in
the brig with his arms
folded across his chest, a smug look on his face. "I think that is fairly
evident, Federationer. We
don't want you here, and we're quite happy to prove it. I would have
preferred we shot your
precious captain, but I suppose his wife will have to suffice. I believe
our message is clear. Go
home, Federationers. And don't come back." With that, the man leaned back
and flashed a
toothy grin at Will.

	This was more than Riker could take. One of his dearest friends
was lying in a coma,
and her husband was slowly falling apart because of it. And now this son
of a bitch was proud of
what he and his cronies did. Something inside Will Riker snapped.

	The forcefield flickered and died away. Will's hand no sooner left
the control pad than he
was inside the cell. With an animalistic growl, he yanked the terrorist
off the bunk and landed a
fist squarely on his jaw. Just as he was about to nail him again, the
security guards rushed in and
grabbed Commander Riker, pulling him out of the cell. He struggled,
yelling, "Let me go, damn
it! The bastard deserves it all!" The forcefield came back up as the
terrorist moaned, holding his
jaw as a trickle of blood oozed out of his mouth. The jaw was canted at an
odd angle.
Commander Riker had broken it in three places, much to the amusement of
everyone on board.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

	A communique from Tarquenia arrived a few hours after Riker's
assault on the terrorist
leader. The Congress had voted unanimously to accept the treaty, and had
ratified it that same
day. They also requested that the _Enterprise_ transfer the terrorists to
the planet to stand trial.
Captain Picard hollowly noted the message, and sent a brief acknowledgment
back to the prime
ministers, and agreed to send the terrorists back. *All the better,* he
thought, *because if they
remained on board, I think something more than a broken jaw would be
suffered by them. I
would see to it personally.*

	Sighing, he set the padd down on the floor, and rubbed his eyes
tiredly. *I really need to
get some sleep.* He took Beverly's cool hand between his warm ones and
rubbed it slightly. He
stood, and was bending to kiss her good night when he heard a slight moan.
He froze. Could he
have imagined it? Possibly. He was, after all, exhausted, and his wishful
mind could be playing
cruel games with him.

	He brushed her lips with his, and he heard it again. Then, her
hand, between his, moved.
Slightly. Almost imperceptibly. But it moved. "Beverly?" he asked. The
tell-tales on the monitor
above the biobed began to change slightly. The monitor alerted Dr. Selar,
who came rushing
over. Beverly stirred again, this time moving her head. A nurse appeared
and handed Selar a
hypospray, which she injected Beverly with. At Picard's questioning look,
she said, "A mild
stimulant. If she is indeed awakening, this will help her along."

	A few minutes later, two piercing blue eyes opened, blinking. They
took a moment to
focus, and, when they did, they found their mates, a pair of smiling hazel
eyes. "Jean-Luc?" she
whispered thickly. He squeezed her hand, his smile wide. "Yes," he
answered. "You're going to
be just fine," he told her. "We're all going to be just fine..."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

	Jean-Luc Picard sat down at his desk in the ready room. He
carefully placed something
on the desktop, then took the picture frame holding his family picture. He
gently opened it up,
removed the picture, and put in its place the one he had just brought with
him.

	In the new picture, he sat next to Beverly, as they held their
daughter, Elizabeth Marie...
and their son, Nathan James.

	They were all smiling.

****^****^****^****^****^****^****

"All of us have violent instincts. We have evolved from predators.
....Well, not me, of course. I've just been programmed by you predators."

---The Holographic Doctor

****^****^****^****^****^****^****