Part 6
After Life

Jean-Luc ran a searching eye over the room one last time before snapping the case shut. Slinging the case over his shoulder, he walked out. Two doors down and across the hall, he stopped in another doorway.

Renee meticulously placed the last of her belongings - the blue plush rabbit that was the last gift from her mother - in the case on her bed and closed it. Jean-Luc's eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 'She's more like Beverly every day. She even sounds like her,' he thought to himself as the little girl softly sang an old lullaby... the lullaby she hadn't wanted to hear since her mother died.

It was a good sign.

"Renee? Sweetheart, it's time to go."

She dragged the case off the bed, flashing a smile in her father's direction. While not quite the exuberant smile it used to be, it was getting better as well. The case was awkward, but she was six now and didn't like to ask for help, having inherited a fair portion of stubbornness from both her parents. He took the case and shooed her down the stairs. The house was quiet as though the building itself knew it would be closed up, unused, for a long time.

"Can we walk to the station, Papa?" Renee asked as she slipped her hand into his.

"I think that's an excellent idea." He understood the need to prolong their departure. LaBarre was their healing place. Pain and sadness had brought them here, but father and daughter had slowly learned to live again.

Beverly had been right - all the memories were happy ones. When he pictured her here, she was smiling.

The year had not been an easy one. Marie had been a tremendous help, her own tragedy giving them a new, though sadder, common ground. She had tried to prepare him, but there were some things that could only be lived through.

The 'firsts' were the worst... all the events spent for the first time without Beverly. Her birthday, his birthday, their anniversary, and all the little days that had meant something to them but now only to him.

One of the hardest had been Renee's birthday, barely a month after Beverly's death. Will and the others had returned to their various duties, but Deanna and Luke had stayed to be there for the small party.

He would never forget her, standing so solemnly before the cake, about to blow out the candles.

"I wish..."

"Don't say it out loud," Luke interjected. "It won't come true."

"It doesn't matter. It can't happen anyway. I wish Mama was here."

The candles had gone out in a single breath, and Jean-Luc had held her while she cried.

She never even had a piece of her own cake.

The feeling of Renee resting her cheek against his arm pulled him back to the present. He looked down, eyeing the not-quite-straight part, then down the not-quite-flat plaits of auburn hair. Although he still wondered if he would ever be able to get it exactly right, it was another thing that had improved with a year's time and practice. It saddened him a little to realize how well they seemed to be getting along without Beverly.

Now, they were about to start their new life. The decision to return to Starfleet had been a natural one, pushed along by Admiral Nechayev's pestering of him for the last two months. He had always suspected that he had been the topic of conversation between the admiral and Beverly during their mysterious chat, a suspicion confirmed since many of the tactics the admiral used 'to get him back on track', as she put it, sounded exactly Beverly.

He had asked her to be his guardian angel but hadn't realized until recently that she had gotten an early start during her talk with the admiral.

They had offered him his choice of a starship or an ambassador's post. His only consideration being his daughter, he had chosen the latter for its relative safety. It also provided a better opportunity for a stable family life.

Besides, how could he be a captain again without his CMO?

Leaving, however, was proving to be more difficult than he had imagined. All his old memories had Beverly at the center. Now, they were going places where she would only be a photograph.

As they neared the shuttle station, Renee let go of his hand and started to run, braids flying behind her. "Uncle Will!" she cried.

Picard's steps slowed as Renee's picked up speed. He had scarcely seen a Starfleet uniform since leaving the Enterprise and seeing Will in one now touched something he couldn't quite identify.

'They've changed the style again,' he noted. Life had indeed gone on outside of their small haven.

The bearded man scooped up Renee as much to keep from being bowled over as for the hug he was currently receiving.

"Will, this is a surprise." The men shook hands. "We're on our way to Starfleet Headquarters to arrange transport to Seivad 3. What brings you here?"

"You used to call it Captain's prerogative, Ambassador," Will said as formally as he could while holding a fidgety little girl. "I put in a standing request with Admiral Nechayev for escort duty whenever you went back to work. We're here to take you to your new assignment."

It was exactly the sort of gesture he should have expected Will to make, and one that he would not, in the past, have allowed himself to accept. The only reason he was willing to do so now was because of Beverly. He had let people in, and he would be forever grateful to her for that promise.

"Will, I..."

"No arguments," Will interrupted. "Quarters have been assigned, and your things have already been transferred."

Jean-Luc chuckled softly. "I was going to say that I can't think of anything we would like more than to be back on the Enterprise." Now he recognized what he had felt a moment ago. It was the tiny adrenaline rush that came with the start of every new mission. Breathing deeply, he felt a lightness he hadn't known for a very long time.

"Is Luke on the ship, too?" Renee's impatient voice cut into his thoughts. "And Aunt Deanna?"

Will tickled her stomach. "They certainly are. Luke can't wait to show you around." He tickled her again before setting her on her feet.

She tossed her head. "I know where everything is on the Enterprise. She was ours first."

"Renee has a lot of you in her, but that was all Beverly," Will noted, trying to keep a straight face.

"I know," Jean-Luc replied, "and I love every bit of it."

Will leaned in conspiratorially. "Let's go turn her loose on Luke. He could use someone who can really keep up with him." He paused to watch Renee struggle with the case her father had set down. "Then again, maybe he's going to have to learn to keep up with her."

"I tried for years to keep up with her mother." He cleared his throat to cover the hoarseness the bittersweet memory evoked. He slowly realized that, though it still hurt, it was a dull ache rather than the more familiar sharp stab. Somehow he had never thought that would ease with time. He cleared his throat again before continuing. "I wish Luke all the luck in the world -– he'll need it. Come on, Renee," he called, holding out his hand, "let's not keep Luke and Aunt Deanna waiting."

oxo

It felt good to be sharing a cup of tea with Will and Deanna again after a long day. He could almost imagine that Beverly had merely been called to Sickbay on some minor emergency and would be back soon. He darted a quick glance at Deanna as he pushed the thought away and refocused on the present.

"I understand Lwaxana was here recently. How is she?" Jean-Luc didn't even try to hide his smile as Will glowered.

"I never should have teased Worf when she took Alexander under her wing a few years ago," Will moaned with feigned remorse. "Luke adores her, of course, especially since she spoils him completely. Fortunately, Kestra is still too young right now."

The sound of a door opening drew everyone's attention. Renee came shuffling from her room, rubbing eyes that were open only enough to keep from bumping into the furniture. She climbed into her father's lap, murmuring a soft "Papa" as she snuggled into his shoulder. Jean-Luc settled her more comfortably, making sure she had a firm grip on her rabbit before covering her with the light blanket she had dragged behind her. She went back to sleep with a contented sigh.

Will smiled. How many times had Picard said he wasn't good with children? Apparently, with certain children - and one very special little girl - he was as good as they came.

Deanna, on the other hand, viewed the vignette through very different eyes. She relaxed a bit as she sensed contentment from the two, tinged with the sadness of a man who had thought he might never be a father, certainly never a single parent.

Jean-Luc easily read her expression. "It's all right, Counselor," he said purposely using her title. "She hasn't done this in several months. It's probably the change in surroundings." He dropped a light kiss on Renee's tousled head. "We're doing just fine."

"I know that, Jean-Luc," she assured him, "I can see it and feel it."

"You should," he murmured. "You both were instrumental in helping Renee and me survive all this. I have never cherished friendships as much as I have this last year. When Beverly died, I could feel myself shutting down. I wanted to hide away with my pain and sorrow, but none of you would let me do that." He paused, resting his cheek for a moment on Renee's head. "I will be forever grateful to all of you for saving me from myself."

Deanna again felt the underlying sadness in him, but she also sensed a renewal of the optimism that had been missing for the last year. Although it was not the one he had planned, he was once again looking to the future.

oxo

Epilogue

He moved excitedly back and forth in front of his audience, his voice carrying not only the strength of his convictions but his eagerness to share them as well. The lectures he gave on the Prime Directive were the most sought after classes at the Academy... and the ones most dreaded by Starfleet's upper echelon.

She listened as he dared to tell impressionable cadets the Prime Directive was strictly a guideline, that it should be adhered to but it could be, indeed must be, bent on occasion. He offered his own life experiences - the ones Starfleet had declassified - as examples of when to act and when not to and how to know the difference.

Sitting at the back of the lecture hall, Renee Picard wondered if he used his experiences in raising her as examples of patience. She had led that poor man a merry chase, interrupting important meetings as a little girl to show off her latest drawings or getting him called to her school because she was fighting. Her teenage years had offered scant improvement when they argued over clothes, her friends in general and boys in particular and trying to find a balance between her dancing and her schoolwork.

Those and the hundreds of other things that been putting parents and children in conflict for millennia.

Things might have been different if her mother had lived, but probably only because he wouldn't have had to bear the entire brunt of her tempestuous youth.

Luckily, they had both had Wesley. A smile curled the corners of her mouth as she recalled how her beloved big brother always managed to 'phase' in just at the right time.

She looked down to find she was nervously twisting the ring on her finger. Although the ring was new, the feelings behind it were not. As a fourth year cadet, she felt confident in her decision-making abilities, but she was certain her father would fight her on this one. Still, this one felt more right than any she had made in a long time.

The class broke up, and over the milling throng of cadets, he searched to make sure she hadn't left, breathing a small sigh of relief as he caught a flash of her fiery hair. Jean-Luc Picard tried to wave off the questions still being called out to him, but his students were persistent. "Enough!" he said sternly, and 75 cadets snapped to attention. "I have office hours posted. Use them." He waved a cautionary finger at them. "Judiciously." He let them stand there until he climbed the stairs to where Renee stood. "Dismissed!"

Jean-Luc hugged his daughter tightly. Between her schedule and his, they saw each other rarely. It seemed silly to send letters back and forth across the campus, but it was the only way to stay in touch.

He kept his arm draped around her shoulders for the entire walk to his apartment. Renee, being her mother's daughter, had finished the task Beverly had begun. Jean-Luc had gotten over his dislike of public displays, laughing more openly, greeting people more effusively, even allowing his closest friends to tease him about his former remoteness. Newer colleagues were puzzled by references to a rigid demeanor and solemn countenance, never realizing the enormous effort it had sometimes taken him to keep his promise to Beverly.

He knew this was no casual visit, but he allowed her to set the pace during the meal. The longer she took to get to the point, the longer she would stay. It was a tactic he had perfected with Beverly. Conversation over dinner centered on the Academy - his classes, her projects, graduation barely a month away.

After dinner, they moved into his study. Jean-Luc placed the tea tray on the low table and settled next to her on the couch. In a seemingly casual move, he picked up her hand - the left one. "So when are you going to tell me about this?" he asked. He watched the light play over the glittering band and looked up to see the same sparkle in his daughter's eyes.

"I'm getting married." She winced as the words left her mouth. So much for subtlety.

"Please tell me it's Luke."

The easy acceptance was so unexpected that it threw her well planned speech into a jumble. "Of course it's Luke. He asked me a week ago, and I said yes. We want to do it right after graduation. Everyone we would invite will already be here. Uncle Will and Aunt Deanna approve. I know you want me to establish my career first, Dad, but it really will be easier this way. We've requested a family ship so that we can take our first assignment together, and - "

A gentle finger on her lips stopped the torrent of words. "Do you love him?" He sought the truth in her face and found it.

"I've loved him all my life," she answered with quiet conviction.

Jean-Luc heard the certainty. It was the same certainty he had heard in Beverly's voice all those years ago. "Then marry him as soon as you can. Never waste a minute that you can be together. You and Luke come from four parents who let a lot of things get in their way. Mostly fear. My telling you not to be afraid is a waste of time, but I can tell you not to be controlled by it. Renee, I want you always to remember that Starfleet is just a career, it's not a life. The two of you will have to fight hard to be together, to stay together. I think I can speak for Will and Deanna when I tell you, if it ever comes down to a choice between your family - you and Luke - and Starfleet, that's no choice. Not even Starfleet is worth losing your family."

Renee hugged him tightly. "I'll do my best, Dad."

"I know, sweetheart," he said, kissing the tip of her nose, "I took that as a given."

oxo

The ceremony took place at the Picard vineyards and was the simple event her parents' wedding was supposed to have been. This time Jean-Luc insisted it would be family and friends only. Starfleet would dictate enough in their lives - this day was for Renee and Luke.

She wore her mother's wedding gown, and her flaming tresses, also her mother's, were worn in a style reminiscent of that long ago day.

The only sadness was that her mother wasn't here. She couldn't see another pair of sapphire blue eyes glow with love and glitter with tears of joy as her own had on her special day.

Jean-Luc caught his breath as he saw her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was the very image of Beverly, and his heart filled with joy, just the way it had on the day the woman he had loved for most of his life at last became his wife.

She smiled, then turned when his eyes filled with tears. In a rustle of silk, she hurried across the room to hug him. "Don't cry, Papa."

He would have made it if not for that. She hadn't called him Papa since she was twelve. "It's a family tradition, sweetheart," he said, returning her smile. "I always cry on this dress."

"I wish Mama was here," she murmured, echoing that long ago birthday wish.

"She is here, Renee, in you and me and everyone else who loved her." The sudden tightness in his throat caught him unawares. It had been a long time since missing Beverly had hurt this much. After another quick hug, he stepped back for one last look at his 'little' girl.

She was poised and beautiful...

...and her mother would have been very proud.

His own pride shining in his eyes, he held out a hand. "You're late, just like she always was. Come on, people are waiting."

oxo

Three years later, Jean-Luc held his day old granddaughter for the first time. Red-haired, blue eyed - Beverly Ann Riker.

The End

/o/o/o/o/o/o/

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Dylan Thomas