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angel of morning


Title: Angel of the Morning
Author: Cait N.
Contact: caitn at mindspring dot com
Series: TNG
Codes: P/C
Rating: PG-13 for some nudity

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, I just take 'em
out for a spin every once in a while.

Summary: This takes place sometime after the future we see
in "All Good Things..." It's a 'what might have been'
between Beverly and Jean-Luc.

* * *

"Angel of the Morning"
copyright December 2000 by Cait N.
Beverly felt his light touch on the outside of her arms,
tracing the contours, dipping down to glide over her waist,
and back again. He used just the right amount of pressure;
gentle enough to arouse her, but not too light to tickle.
She smiled, and opened her eyes.

Jean-Luc was leaning over her, looking at her as if he was
a bear, and she the honey. A grin spread across his aged
face. "It's almost morning, sleepy head."

She stretched, letting the cover slip down and over her
bare breasts. She saw his gaze shift and almost laughed
aloud. He hadn't been joking when he'd told her he was a
"breast man."

He brought a hand up and cupped her breast, kneading it
gently. "We still have some time," he said, arousal
flaring in his eyes.

Beverly could feel his erection pressing against her hip,
as he lowered his lips to hers.

After their passion was spent, he collapsed on the bed
beside her, sweat glistening on his skin. He gathered
Beverly close to his side, burying his face in her hair and
inhaling deeply. She always smelled of lilacs; he was
never able to smell them without thinking of her.

He watched as she fell asleep, wanting to imprint every
last detail on his mind forever. Morning was his favorite
time of the day. He loved the way the faint light played
across Beverly's bare skin, playing hide and seek with the
shadows. Sometimes he spent hours staring at her, tracing
the lines between light and dark, marveling at just how
lucky one man could get. She looked so peaceful lying
there sleeping, he always hated to wake her up.


The dawn was just peeking in through the curtained windows
when Beverly stirred again. It only took her a second to
realize what had awoken her - Jean-Luc was thrashing around
on the bed beside her, in the throes of a seizure.

Beverly quickly reached for the hypo on the bedside table,
and administered the drug. In moments, his movements
stilled, though his breathing was still shallow and raspy.
She ran a tricorder over him. As he watched her with tired
eyes, he could tell that it wasn't good news.


"Save your strength," she interrupted in a soft voice.
They'd both known this day was coming. Modern medicine had
finally found a drug to hold the dementia caused by
Irumodic Syndrome at bay, but the side effects led to
seizures, and eventually, death. Beverly had pleaded with
him not to take the drugs but Jean-Luc had been adamant.
He had said that anything was better than slipping slowly
into senility, spending the last of your days in an
institution not knowing anything or anyone around you.
Beverly knew it was selfish, but she wished they had just a
little more time together.

She slipped into her robe and sat by his side, rubbing his
hand and arm gently.

"You know I love you," he said.

"I know." Her hand stilled on top of his and she
squeezed. "The past three years have been wonderful, Jean-
Luc, and I wouldn't trade them for anything."

A fit of coughing wracked his body, and it was a while
before he spoke again. "I wish I could walk you home one
more time."

Her smiled wavered. "I'll be fine." Her words implied
more than just walking home.

His trembling hand reached up and gently cupped her cheek.
He would always remember her like this -- captured forever
in the dim light of rosy dawn, hair tumbling around her
shoulders, and starlight in her eyes. She was more
beautiful to him now than when he first saw her. "You'll
always be my angel. So delicate and ethereal in the
morning light. My angel of the morning."

He winced, his body drawing up tight. She watched,
helpless, as the light slowly faded from his eyes. His hand
dropped away as he took one last shuddering breath. Beverly
leaned down and kissed him tenderly on the forehead. "May
you finally find your peace," she whispered. The soft
light of a new day framed the tears that ran silently down
her cheeks.


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