Title: Career Advancement

Series: TNG

Rating: NC-17 (for sex)

Codes: P/C

Summary: PWP In the mirror universe, Imperial Captain Picard discovers the matrimonial effect on the chain of command. (Warning: Character death) Originally posted to ASC on March 27, 2005.

Authors' notes: After nearly a decade of requests, the impossible happened-- we actually got an idea for a Picard/Crusher sex scene (blame Phantom of the Opera since every time one of us sees a production of it, we get the urge to play with mirror universes). This does not belong in any of our universes/timelines, it is only a stray thought, a hanging chad if you will. Feel free to archive in any pertinent location.

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles. We just have a lot more fun playing with them.

Feedback is always appreciated, posted or e-mail.

Whoa Nellie's Romance Star Trek Fan Fiction Stories

http://whoanellie.fortunecity.com

CAREER ADVANCEMENT

Imperial Captain Jean-Luc Picard finished his dinner and slid the plate toward the center of the small dining table in his quarters. He stared impatiently at the door, silently demanding that it open. As if on cue, the door slid open and Doctor Beverly Picard breathlessly rushed in. "You're late," Picard snarled at her.

"Your First Officer sent about a dozen crewmembers for disciplinary action today," she explained. "Whenever Riker's in a mood, I have a long day."

He leaned back in his chair and eyed her disdainfully. "You're wearing a lab coat."

Beverly swiftly stripped off the offending garment and tossed it over a chair. Underneath she had on a bodysuit made of carefully placed leather strips that covered the bare necessities but not much else. More leather strips formed a skirt of sorts, one that allowed a generous view of her legs whenever she moved. "Blood is sticky on my skin and difficult to get out of this uniform you designed for me, even with sonic treatment."

Picard rose and walked over to her. He reached out and grabbed two of the straps on her outfit, using them to drag her against him. "You're my wife, I want everyone to see what a beautiful woman I have that they can't touch. Second to my ship, you are my greatest trophy."

Beverly melted against the hard wall of his chest. Jean-Luc's commanding presence and animal magnetism were an irresistible combination, even more so when he was in an amorous mood as he obviously was tonight. She nuzzled his throat, rubbing herself against the muscled lines of his body sinuously. She knew better than to touch the clasp of her clothing until Jean-Luc indicated whether he wanted to undress her himself or watch her strip. He was the most demanding lover she'd ever had, including her first husband, which made their sex life all the more pleasurable for her. No man had ever satisfied her sexual appetite the way Jean-Luc did.

His hand grabbed her long, red hair and forced her head back. With her breasts pushed up against him, nearly spilling out over her suit, his mouth came down hard to crush her lips beneath his. Forcing his tongue into the moist recesses of her mouth, he felt her response in both the answer of her tongue and the fervent pressing of her hips against him. He unfastened her outfit with his free hand and stripped if off, completely baring her luscious body to him. Breaking the kiss, he used his grip on her hair to pull her back slightly and landed a crashing backhand to her cheek, allowing the recoil to send her sprawling onto the bed. "You are the captain's woman," he snapped. "Your first responsibility is to me and I want you here when I get off duty. If your work interferes with your obligation to me, I can easily have you relieved of duty."

"It won't happen again," she vowed softly, sliding down to kneel on the floor beside the bed and looking back up at him. She shifted to spread her knees further apart and rubbed the bed invitingly while deliberately circling her tongue around her lips in a silent, erotic invitation.

Picard walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. His whole body was tense, it had been a long day and he needed a vigorous bout of sex and the release it always brought. He nodded approval when she reached for his vest, allowing her to open his clothing. His body twitched under the rough scrape of her fingernails, an intentional scratch under the pretense of unfastening his vest. God, she was so incredibly sensuous, always knowing just how to please him. She had trouble freeing his throbbing, hardened length from his pants and by the time she did, he was beyond impatient. He grabbed her head and forced her mouth down onto him without preamble.

Closing her eyes, Beverly inhaled the musky scent of her captain with the taste of him filling her mouth. She swirled her tongue around him, leisurely tracing every whorl until he grunted in frustration and began moving her head back and forth along his length. She played with him, varying the pressure of her mouth to draw out the pleasure--not that there was any danger of things coming to a premature conclusion. She had long ago discovered that, with Jean-Luc's artificial heart, she could medically keep him up for literally days if she chose. His hips were rocking in time with her, the fabric of his uniform pants coarse under her palms. A shiver of remembered pleasure shot through her body as she thought back to the first day and night of their honeymoon and the marathon of pleasure they'd shared. Her fingers slipped into the opening of his pants to cup and caress him intimately, never breaking her pace. She'd never told him what the substance was or that the drug had addictive properties, it guaranteed that he'd never find the same all-consuming pleasure with any other woman. He was getting closer, his hands gripped her head and began forcing her mouth over him faster and faster. She smiled around his hardness, tugging less than gently on him and digging her fingernails into the sensitive flesh.

The sharp twinge low in his hips triggered his climax; he held her face to his body until the spasms of pleasure subsided. Releasing her, he combed his fingers through her mussed red tresses. There would be more later, but for now he wanted a show. He began pulling off his boots. "Pleasure yourself," he growled.

Beverly knew what he wanted and what it meant. Adjusting her position, she spread her knees wider and reached for the glistening juncture of her own thighs. This was going to be a long, slow night and her body leapt not only at the pressure of her fingers but at the thought of the pleasure that awaited. She allowed her head to fall back, her breasts jutting out and emphasizing their rock-hard nipples. He continued to undress, but she knew the sight of her was never long from his line of vision. Steadying herself with one hand on the floor behind her, she increased the pressure of her fingers. These nights were the best, she'd be sore and bruised afterward, but the satiation would be worth it. Briefly she considered suggesting the hypospray in the bedside table but decided against it; he seemed to be up for a long ride without any artificial assistance. The coil of pleasure was building and her hips were rubbing frantically against her hand. Whimpers were escaping from her, her body anticipating pleasure. Her voice caught in her throat for an instant, her body tense, and then she relaxed, sighing heavily. Rather than releasing tension, the spasms rippling through her only stoked the anticipation building her arousal even more. She purred aloud when she opened her eyes to see him standing over her, already erect again.

Picard drew her to her feet slowly, making sure that her breasts rubbed every inch of his torso on the way up. His mouth lowered to claim hers in a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips yielded easily to the insistent probing of his tongue and he swept her lithe body into his arms without breaking the kiss. His earlier orgasm had taken the edge off his need, but the sight of her bringing herself to climax had fired his arousal anew. His hardened length was throbbing, a sharp but pleasant pulsing that rolled through his hips. He strode over to the bed and tossed her onto it, following with feral intensity. Roughly, he gripped her thighs, spreading them apart to open her completely to him and immediately drove himself deep into her. Kneeling on the bed, he held her legs in a vise-like grip, using his hold on her to pull her down to meet his every thrust. Her body clenched around him, wet and hot. He kept a tight rein on his desire; the longer he held it in check, the more powerful his ultimate release would be.

Sensitized by her warm-up, Beverly welcomed the invasion of her body, his hard, hot body filling every inch of her depths. Completely splayed open it was awkward, but she struggled to lift her hips to meet him, ripples of pleasure growing with every thrust. It didn't take long for a second orgasm to rip through her and her body tautened then convulsed. He never stopped, never even slowed down. She was trying to catch her breath when a third climax slammed into her right on the heels of the second. In spite of her breathless exhaustion, she didn't want him to stop because she was floating on a cloud of euphoria brought on by the non-stop pleasure. He paused then, but only long enough to release her legs and cover her with his body. He bit the upper slope of her breast, the pain causing her to cry out before she felt him suck strongly on the skin causing her hips to jerk involuntarily against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and used her heels to spur him back into motion.

Moving his mouth to her other breast, he began sliding in and out of her body while he suckled strongly on the nipple. Her body was spasming ceaselessly around him, taunting him with her endless orgasms. His body wanted to join in the pleasure she was experiencing, but he knew that his own climax wouldn't be nearly powerful enough yet; besides, she wasn't done either. He levered himself up on his elbows to increase his pace, once again driving himself into her with long, hard, fast strokes. She came again and again, too spent to even cry out and still he forced himself into her. His heart was pounding, every cell in his body begging for release but he continued to take her. Her athleticism was never so apparent as it was during sex, the positions he could put her in and her stamina during intercourse. He pulled out of her body long enough to roll her to her stomach and pull her back against him, once again burying himself in her softness. Early in their relationship, it had become a battle of libidos, a challenge for him to take her past her own limits to the point of complete sexual exhaustion. His hands held her hips firmly and slammed into her from behind; he could feel her pushing herself back against him, grinding her hips into his seeking more pleasure. He reached around to add his fingers to the fire he was building in her body. Tugging sharply on the sensitive folds of skin, he alternated rubbing and pulling on the slick, sensitive flesh and was rewarded by her movements becoming more frantic and erratic.

Everything else was forgotten in the pleasure that was consuming her. The burning heat in her hips was the only thing that existed, a timeless pleasure that she never wanted to end. She had lost count of her orgasms, but she felt a powerful tension building and knew that there was one more coming. Clutching the pillow, she whimpered as the sensation built to unbearable levels and then everything seemed to go black when it exploded. She couldn't feel him driving into her anymore, she felt as though she was suspended in time, a moment of sheer bliss.

He was forced to still his movements by a particularly powerful release that caused her body to clench him painfully. When her body went completely limp in his grasp, he finally gave in to the demands of his body; he nudged her legs further apart and began thrusting into her, short quick thrusts. The knot of desire in his hips sharpened with each stroke, inciting him to move faster and faster. He buried himself completely as his climax exploded from him in concert with a roar of triumph. Releasing her, he collapsed onto the bed and rolled onto his back with effort. Gasping for breath, he closed his eyes and savored the sated feeling.

Beverly stretched contentedly before she moved over to half-lie across Jean-Luc. One hand dropped off the side of the bed as she began idly tracing designs on his chest. "The perfect ending," she sighed. "You know, I've been planning to talk to you about something, this book, 'How to Advance your Career through Marriage'," she commented casually, nuzzling his chest.

"You're my wife and the Chief Medical Officer of the Empire's flagship," he noted impatiently. "Where could your career possibly advance?"

Her hand surreptitiously retrieved a long knife from under the mattress and, with surgical precision, she slid the knife between his ribs, through a lung and severed his aorta just above where it entered his artificial heart. "Captain," she informed him matter-of-factly.

Beverly got out of bed and pulled one of his clean uniforms from the dresser. She'd have uniforms tailored for her later, first things first and Jean-Luc wouldn't be needing his uniforms anymore. She fastened a phaser onto the waistband of the trousers that she'd cinched tight with a sash tied around her waist. Checking that he was finally dead, she started for the door only to pause and re-trace her steps. She found the vest he'd been wearing earlier and pulled the rank pips off, applying them to the vest she now wore. "Much better, don't you think, Jean-Luc?" she mockingly asked her now-late husband.

Exiting her quarters, she waited for the security contingent to note her new status. She gestured for two of them to escort her. "I'm going to wake Commander Riker and inform him of the change in the chain of command," she said. She eyed the third man appreciatively. "Clean up my quarters and be ready to salute me properly when I get back," she purred, emphasizing the double entendre of her order.

Lieutenant Commander Chakotay snapped to attention and fired off a salute. "Aye, aye, Captain Picard."

***FINIS***

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