Title: Carpe Diem
Author: Whoa Nellie ([email protected])
Series: TNG
Rating: NC-17
Codes: Picard / Vash
Synopsis: A frazzled fiancee', a frustrated Frenchman -- what happens next is pure fun and folly, but a good time is had by all. This story was originally posted to ASC on August 9, 2001 and occurs in the Whoa Nellie universe "Reasons of the Heart" timeline, accepting all TNG canon through the movie "Insurrection" while adding Vash (from the TNG episodes 'Captain's Holiday' and 'Qpid') onboard as the ship's chief archaeologist.
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
CARPE DIEM
On the bridge, Captain Jean-Luc Picard settled into his command chair with his morning tea. He turned to his right to see Commander William Riker grinning at him. One would assume the First Officer’s grin was due to the shoreleave the entire senior staff was leaving on as soon as the shift was over, but Picard knew better. This had become something of a morning ritual the last few weeks.
"T minus two weeks and counting," Riker joked, continuing his countdown to the Captain’s wedding day. "Or fourteen . . ."
"Fourteen days; yes, I know, Number One," Picard replied as he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of tea.
You’ll have to excuse him, Captain," Deanna chimed in from her seat on the left of the command chair. "But, the bridegroom is far too calm to satisfy his rather maniacal best man."
"Thank you, Counselor," Picard quipped with a relaxed smile, "I’m aware of his motives."
"Is he really as calm as he looks, Deanna?" Riker inquired with a conspiratorial grin.
"Now Will, if he wasn’t, you know I would have never brought it up," Deanna scolded, hearing the captain chuckle softly. With a smile, she advised, "I would not recommend testing the bride’s nerves that way or you’re liable to find yourself stuffed into a torpedo and shot into orbit."
"Is Vash experiencing reservations, Deanna?" Picard asked quickly, setting aside his tea.
"Not about her marriage to you, sir. She is blissfully confident about that," Deanna assured him. "However, she has found making the plans for the wedding itself to be a rather daunting task. With all the VIP’s on the list, she is convinced that one wrong move will start a war or derail your entire career."
Picard pulled on his jacket as he shifted in his chair, "I’ve told her repeatedly to relax and do whatever she thinks is best. Whatever she decides to do will be fine with me."
Unable to stop herself, Deanna sighed and rolled her eyes at the typical male answer. "She said you’d been about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. She is uncertain how to delegate priority; family, friends, Starfleet officials, heads of state, members of the diplomatic corps, or members of academia."
"A screen door on a submarine?" Picard chuckled, "Am I to assume that means I’ve been seen as less than helpful on this issue?"
Deanna nodded, "Data and I saw her earlier this morning in the Forward lounge going over the guest list. She was muttering something about you having to be so damned important."
Data turned in his seat at ops to face them, "That was not an exact quote. The Counselor left out a few rather graphic expletives. Vash has a rather extensive vocabulary. I counted four languages used in the oath."
"Only four?" Picard replied amused. "My lovely bride has the rather dubious talent of being able to curse in at least ten languages, that I know of. With everyone staying at the house for next two weeks, she might be slightly reticent to use some of her more colorful interjections."
"Sir, I know the whole senior staff is very pleased about staying at the Picard vineyards. But, are you sure about having all of us there for two weeks?" Riker looked over at the captain questioningly. "It could be a little . . .family intensive."
"It’s a very large house, Number One," Picard promised him. "After all it’s Earth and everyone has their own day trips planned throughout the first week. I agree with Vash that the vineyard provides a nice ‘base of operations’ for this particular shoreleave. Marie has spent the last week preparing the house for our arrival. She’s very pleased that all of us are staying there. She’s hoping that all the hustle and bustle will, as she put it, drive away some old ghosts. It’s the first time the house has been used since Marie moved in with her sister shortly after Robert and Renee’s deaths."
"It will also be the first time you’ve stayed there since their deaths, sir," Deanna prompted gently.
Before the captain could respond, Riker quipped, "My imzadi, intergalactic yenta."
"No matter how much I may represent that remark," Deanna retorted good-naturedly, "It’s what they pay me the big bucks for."
"And so it begins," Riker chuckled.
"Things will be much too busy with happy events to cogitate on the past, Counselor," Picard noted succinctly. With a smile, he continued, "Now, has my Aunt Adele beamed aboard yet?"
"Yes, sir," Deanna replied. "Vash met her just over an hour ago in transporter room two and is currently giving her a tour of the ship. We should expect them up here on the bridge any time now."
"Just lovely," Picard groaned, sounding like someone preparing himself for painful dental work.
"I thought you enjoyed your Aunt’s company, sir?" Deanna asked.
"I absolutely adore her, Deanna. It’s the idea of having a family member of mine tour my ship that I loathe," Picard explained with a sigh. "My parents once toured the Stargazer while she was under my command and I swore never again. While sitting in my command chair, my mother managed to hit the wrong button and sounded general quarters. She insisted on kissing me before she left. No matter how successful one is, one is always vulnerable to one’s family."
Deanna giggled, "Captain, on that subject, you’re singing to the choir."
Picard nodded and laughed, "Yes, I suppose I am."
"Is your Aunt Adele from your maternal or paternal side, sir?" Riker inquired.
"Aunt Adele is my mother’s eldest sister and the final surviving member of my mother’s family. In her ninety-some years, she’s buried four husbands. It was after husband number four that she went back to using the Gessard family name. She’s very excited about the wedding and appears to have adopted Vash. The two talk for hours and Aunt Adele has been giving her all sorts of advice," Picard replied. His expression turned somewhat amusingly circumspect, "Of course, all this advice seems to begin with ‘in your first marriage.’ I must admit, I find that troubling."
Data piped in, "Captain, considering the age difference between Vash and yourself, it is only natural to assume . . ."
"Data," Deanna cut him off quickly as Riker tried to stifle a chuckle. "Don’t go there."
The android paused to ponder his train of thought and the expressions on the faces of his crew mates. As he turned back around to face his station, he stated, "I think I will shut up now."
"Thank you, Mr. Data," Picard retorted dryly.
"We’re looking at two whole weeks of this," Riker teased his CO.
"Captain," Data called, not looking up from his console.
"Yes, Data."
"Sir, would it be helpful if I surreptitiously rerouted the functions of each console as your aunt toured the bridge?" Data inquired.
"You could leave each console lit and with all the ‘bells and whistles’ but nonfunctioning as she’s viewing it?" Picard asked brightening at the idea.
"That was the intent, sir," Data confirmed.
"That would be very helpful indeed. Make it so," Picard replied, delighted with the plan.
"Aye sir."
"And the android redeems himself," Riker teased.
Glancing over his shoulder at Riker, Data retorted mischievously, "Some of us think faster on our feet than others, Commander."
''Ouch!" Deanna laughed from her seat as she saw Will’s shell-shocked expression.
"Don’t look at me, Number One. You’re the one always wanting to work on his sense of humor," Picard chuckled. "Looks to me like it’s progressing splendidly."
A short time later, Riker looked up from his console toward the turbolift as it opened to reveal Vash standing with a stately-looking, elderly woman. The older woman wore long cerulean robes, reminiscent of Guinan's. The up-swept style of her silver hair highlighted the graceful, aristocratic features of her face. Adele Gessard carried herself with the same polished aplomb as her nephew. The family resemblance resounded in her carriage as much as in her visage. To Riker, she seemed the epitome of the French grande dame.
"This is the final stop on our tour, the bridge, the nerve center of the Enterprise," Vash said as the pair stepped out of the lift. "Complete command of this entire vessel takes place up here."
"Complete command of the entire vessel?" Adele inquired.
"That's what Jean-Luc swears they do up here all day," Vash teased with a wink.
"Ladies," Picard greeted them as he stood up and made his way over. He took his aunt's hand, "Welcome aboard, Aunt Adele."
................................................
'Data has earned his pay for the month,' Picard thought to himself as he ushered his aunt and his fiancée into his ready-room after a non-eventful tour of the bridge. Heading for the replicator, he offered, "May I get you something?"
"A cup of lemon tea would be nice, Jean-Luc. Thank you," Adele answered, glancing over at Vash. The younger woman's silky, brunette hair fell gracefully to her shoulders framing her classically beautiful features and her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled at her fiancé. It was obvious how much Vash and Jean-Luc loved each other. Adele had found her nephew's fiancée to be intelligent and charmingly vivacious with a slightly irreverent sense of humor. The girl was going to need that irreverent sense of humor. Picard men could become a bit full of themselves from time to time and Jean-Luc was no exception. 'Oh Yvette, your son has chosen well. You would have just adored this girl!' she thought to herself. Remembering the time, she told Vash, "Petite, you're going to be late for your first bridal gown fitting."
"Ohhh, I almost forgot," Vash gasped. "But, I hate to just abandon you like this."
"Nonsense, child. Go on," the older woman assured her. With a sly smile, she added, "I'm sure my successful nephew can find some time in his hectic schedule to tend to his elderly aunt."
"It would be my pleasure," Picard replied as he handed her a cup of tea.
"If you're sure," Vash stood to leave. "I'll catch up with you when I'm finished."
As he placed a peck on her cheek, Picard whispered to Vash, "Do I get to see what gown you finally selected?"
"Of course you do, in two weeks," she chuckled as she left.
"She's such a lovely girl," Adele sighed happily after the door closed behind Vash. She watched her nephew settle himself on the opposite side of the couch. There was a playful glint in her eye as she continued, "The two of you will make such beautiful babies."
"I thought it would be nice if we got married first," Picard responded dryly.
"Vash, her bridesmaids and I will take the master bedroom and the guest rooms in that wing of the house while you and your groomsmen will stay in yours and Robert's old rooms along with the guest rooms in that wing of the house. The night before the wedding you gentlemen will be staying at your friend Louis's house," Adele informed her nephew. Before he could argue, she delivered a fatal blow. "As you said, it would be nice if you got married first."
Hearing his own words thrown back at him, he leaned back into the couch with a sigh of defeat. "As always, Aunt Adele, you are as wise as you are beautiful." It was only two weeks and he did have the satisfaction of knowing that his maniacal best man and first officer would be suffering right along with him.
"Oh, Jean-Luc, don't patronize an old lady. And I tend to sleep very lightly if you're thinking of a midnight dalliance," Adele sat back and took a sip of tea, shooting him a sharp look.
'Well apparently not any more,' he thought to himself wryly as he took a sip of his tea.
.....................................................................................................
Thirteen days later, Picard made his way down the stairs toward the large kitchen of his family home. He could hear the hustle and bustle of the mid-morning breakfast rush. It had been a delightful albeit hectic two weeks as visiting and sightseeing had gradually given way to wedding preparations. Although he had thoroughly enjoyed having all of his friends and family around, he was looking forward to having some time alone with his lovely bride. He had underestimated how frustrating Aunt Adele's sleeping arrangements would be. After all, he and Vash had been apart for periods of time before due to professional responsibilities; however, this was a little different. They had been separated but they were not apart from each other. Not to mention the fact that Vash's nerves seemed more and more frayed as the wedding drew closer. She had convinced herself that if every detail wasn't perfect the result would be apocalyptic to his career, Starfleet, and intergalactic peace. After his meager offers of assistance had been compared to a screen door on a submarine, Guinan very bluntly let him know his place. She told him his responsibilities during this mission were to show up on time, sober, looking like Prince Valiant and to remember his lines. From that point on, he happily butted -out of the whole affair.
As Picard stepped into the kitchen, he saw Aunt Adele instructing Will on the correct way to make waffles versus pancakes. Beverly and Deanna were washing and cutting fruit as Geordi and Data set the table. "Good morning. Has anyone seen the bride?"
"Good morning, Captain. Vash had an early meeting with the caterer at the reception hall and should be returning shortly," Data responded pleasantly.
"Thank you, Data," Picard reached between Beverly and Deanna to snatch a small piece of strawberry from the platter only to have his hand lightly smacked by his ship's counselor. He pulled his hand back. "Ow."
"Serves you right. You can wait till it is on the table like everyone else," Beverly gestured with a small paring knife as she chastised him.
Backing away, he teased, "All right, who gave the surgeon sharp objects to play with."
"Oops," Will deadpanned.
Deanna glanced over at Picard. The captain was clad in a casual fitting, tan shirt with a deep V neckline and matching jodhpurs with black riding boots. "I take it you're planning to go riding after breakfast."
"I thought it would be a nice way to spend a warm, spring day," Picard nodded, turning as the front door could be heard opening and closing. Vash stepped into the room wearing a white, muslin, spring dress with a delicate pattern of violets on it. Small pearl buttons ran down the length from the sweetheart neckline and fitted bodice to the full skirt that fell with fluid elegance to about mid calf. Taking off the matching white straw hat, she pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. His gaze swept over her feminine form, the swell of her breasts, the slim waist, the curve of her hips, and the long graceful legs giving way to delicate ankles as she leaned against the doorway absentmindedly tapping the heel of her shoe on the hardwood floor. He noticed the exasperated expression on her face. "Is everything all right, Chere? You look a little preoccupied."
"Preoccupied? I have no idea why I would seem preoccupied. Tomorrow we're hosting a small soiree, a formal sit-down dinner for our family and five hundred of our friends. We will be serving twenty different entrees from ten different planetary systems. We own a very prosperous vineyard. However, that wasn't much of a help in procuring the Klingon Blood Wine. Is your dress uniform ready?" she replied tightly watching as Deanna, Beverly and Aunt Adele set breakfast on the table.
Part of him wanted to say, 'Uniform? What uniform?' Self-preservation ruled and he answered, "Yes."
"With all of your medals? And how about the honor guard?"
"Yes. Everything is in place. Madame Picard wanted full Starfleet honors and Madame Picard will have full Starfleet honors." Knowing he would most likely regret it, he asked. "Now, what happened this morning?"
"Around a thousand cocktail napkins have to be reprinted because the hyphen was left out of your name and baby's breath instead of the forget-me-nots I ordered were used in the table centerpieces. The Klingon Gagh is barely alive, not that that's necessarily a bad thing except that Chancelor Martok and Ambassador Worf will both be there and I'm fairly sure they'll notice. Then there is the ice sculpture," Vash ranted as she walked over and took a piece of melon off the table.
"What ice sculpture?" It was the first time he had heard anything about an ice sculpture. Standing behind Vash, Deanna caught his eye. Making an explosive gesture with her hand, she mouthed 'boom.' It was indubitably her way of telling him that Vash was working herself up into an A-class hissy fit. 'Well, thank you for that update from the department of the obvious, Counselor,' he thought.
"It was going to be a surprise," Vash's voice cracked as tears pooled in her eyes. "I commissioned a large ice sculpture representing the Stargazer, the Enterprise D, and the Enterprise E, all three vessels you've commanded, to go behind the cake table. It is magnificent, except all three ships are the same size!"
"Merci beaucoup, ma chere," Picard replied gently. He had no idea she had planned anything like that. He tried to reassure her, "I'm sure no one will notice the size ratio."
"I don't know Jean-Luc. I think it's quite possible that the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet just might notice that a nearly forty year old Constellation class ship appears to be as large as the latest two flagships, a Galaxy class and Sovereign class. If not, I'm sure any first year cadet in the Academy could clarify that. I mean, I'm just a civilian and I know that Constellation class ships are not the same size as Galaxy or Sovereign class ships." She knew she was babbling at this point, she just couldn't help it.
Picard took her gently in his arms and held her as she started to sob. After a few minutes, she started to calm down, her tears subsiding. He kissed the top of her head and quietly asked, "Are you planning to meet me at the alter?"
"Of course," she sniffled, looking up at him.
"Are you planning to take your vows?"
"Yes," she answered with another sniffle.
Picard wiped the tears from her cheek. "Then, as far as I'm concerned, the wedding will be perfect."
"Unless someone decides to have an objection to the marriage and not hold their peace," she sniffled again, this time with a small hiccup.
"Mr. Data and Mr. LaForge," he turned to the android and his chief engineer. "If anyone even looks like they're going to speak when that line is said, your orders are to shoot them." Turning back to his bride-to-be, he tilted her chin up. "Better?"
"Guinan and I carefully planned out every minute detail so it would be perfect," she said with a tremulous sigh.
"Yes, we did and it will be perfect. I'll see to it. However, the idea is to have a blushing not sobbing bride, so the bride is going to relax for the rest of the day until the rehearsal tonight," Guinan announced as she walked in the doorway.
"Never fear, Guinan is here," Geordi and Data chorused.
"She's right, ma petite. Why don't you think about taking a nice, leisurely walk after breakfast? It will soothe you. It is supposed to be a beautiful day," Adele suggested as everyone began to sit down at the table.
"I think it's a good idea. In fact, I'm planning a morning ride myself," Picard commented innocently even as he began to formulate an idea, a wonderful idea. Picard got a wonderfully relaxing idea.
............................................................
A mere ninety minutes later, Picard was sitting astride Bellona, a bay mare thoroughbred that his friend Louis had generously allowed him to borrow for this visit. From his location behind a grove of trees a little way down the road, he could see the front door of his family home. Everything was now in place for what he had planned. He watched as Vash left the house, making her way down the front path to the road. The gauzy material of her dress fluttered in the warm spring breeze as she walked along the road towards him. Patiently, he waited until she was a good twenty-five yards past him before guiding the mare out of the grove of trees. Riding up to her, he reached out and swept her up onto the horse placing her sidesaddle in front him.
Vash let out a startled gasp as she felt Jean-Luc's strong, muscular arm wrap around her waist and lift her off the ground. Settling into his embrace, she chuckled in surprise, "What are you doing?"
"Abducting you," he offered in explanation.
"Oh, I see," Vash cooed flirtatiously. "Should I scream?"
He leered at her with a wolfish smile, "Only in ecstasy."
"Braggin', braggin', braggin'," she retorted impishly as he turned the horse off the road galloping down a well-worn path into the woods.
........................................................
Out the kitchen window, Adele caught sight of her nephew riding up behind his unsuspecting bride. Throwing open the back door, she raced outside shouting, "Jean-LUC Picard, don't you dare!"
"Zut Alors!" the grande dame cursed under her breath. It was too late. The horse and her two riders had disappeared into the woods. Passing an amused, but subdued, Beverly and Deanna on the way back into the house, Adele huffed, "Insolent cad! He is his father's son!"
...........................................................
Once they were well hidden in the shadow of the woods, Jean-Luc slowed the horse from a swift gallop to a comfortable trot. Leaning back against her so-called abductor, Vash enjoyed the ride through the lush, green forest with its sweet-smelling wildflowers and melodious song-birds. As the winding path led deeper and deeper into the woods, she remarked, "I hope you know where we're going as well as where we've been because I didn't think to leave bread crumbs."
"Oh ye of little faith, we don't need breadcrumbs. Robert, Louis, and I spent a great deal of our childhood in these woods," he chuckled, reigning in the horse. "Ah, here we are."
Vash watched as Jean-Luc expertly dismounted from the horse hitching the mare to a nearby tree. He stepped forward and bent down to make an adjustment on a small generator sitting between two trees in front of them. There was a brief sparkle and crackle in the air between the two trees. Moving to the side of the horse, he reached up to span her waist with his hands. She braced her hands on his broad shoulders as he gently lowered her from the horse to the ground. "A forcefield?"
"I think we can use some time alone," Picard replied taking her hand and leading her between the two trees. Reinitiating the forcefield behind them, he added as he guided her further into the trees, "And I want to be reasonably sure that we are not disturbed, even inadvertently."
"Oh, Jean-Luc," Vash sighed overwhelmed by what she saw as they stepped into a tiny clearing. Taking up half of the clearing was a white canvas tent with the side facing them rolled up. The tent was lavishly draped with garland made of white gardenias, white magnolias and satin ribbon. Inside the tent was an immense mahogany four-poster bed. The bridal white of the silk bedding matched the flower garland which also wound around the intricately carved bedposts. Luxurious white silk sheets gleamed and a collection of voluminous pillows were piled at the head of the bed. A mahogany table at the foot of the bed held a picnic basket and a bottle of Château Picard chilling in a silver ice-bucket. She gazed up at him. "This is wonderful; but there is no way you could have done this by yourself."
"Data helped." As he held her hand, Picard tenderly ran his thumb over the brilliant diamond engagement ring on her finger. Noticing the dubious expression on her face, he assured her. "Seeing as the Borg Queen failed to forcibly extract the fractal encryption code used to lock out the main computer from Data, I seriously doubt Aunt Adele will be able to persuade him to reveal our location. There is also the small matter of the forcefield I have surrounding the clearing."
"So, you had Data help you do all this and then you ordered him to keep his mouth shut about it."
Raising her hand to his lips, he placed a kiss on the back of her hand and quipped dryly, "It's good to be the king."
The warm touch of his lips against the back of her hand caused a shiver to race through Vash's entire body. As the sensation spread across her breasts, the peaks hardened pushing against the thin muslin of her summer dress. Anticipation alone was enough to cause butterflies in her stomach.
Releasing her hand, Picard tenderly cupped Vash's chin. His eyes drank in the features of her beautiful face with her blue eyes, delicate cheek bones and rose-petal lips. He could smell the provocative scent of her favorite perfume. Intending a gentle kiss, he lowered his face to hers; suddenly, their mouths met in a fiercely impassioned kiss. Blood roared in his ears as he felt the lush fullness of her lips beneath his own and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her svelte frame pulling her tightly to him. His tongue plunged past her parted lips to ardently explore every corner of her mouth. Her arms slid around his neck as her body pressed into his driving him to distraction.
Vash arched into Jean-Luc feeling the entire length of his hard, muscular form against every inch of her quickly-overheating body. Their tongues danced, swirling and stroking each other in a sensual tango. She wanted him so desperately, nothing else mattered. When he broke the kiss, her arms held his face within a hairsbreadth of her own. Breathless and flushed with arousal, she gasped, "That's the first time you've kissed me since we left the Enterprise."
"Now I know I've kissed you a number of times the past two weeks," he teased softly.
"Not like that." With each breath, her hardened nipples grazed solid muscle as her breasts crushed against the expanse of his chest.
"Considering the situation, I felt it would behoove us both if I exercised the better part of valor," Picard lamented in a charmingly wry tone.
"And now?" Vash murmured into his mouth as she gently pulled his lower lip between her teeth.
"Carpe diem," Picard offered in his rich, bedroom baritone, effortlessly sweeping Vash up and carrying her toward the bed, the thin material of her sundress spilling over his arms.
Vash laid her head on his shoulder listening to the rapid pounding of her own heart. She lost herself in the strength of his arms, the solid expanse of his chest, and the clean, masculine smell of him. Gently, Jean-Luc set her on her feet at the side of the bed; his hands buried themselves in her hair and drew her face to his. Her lips opened pliantly under his as his mouth captured hers in another passionately-heated kiss. His tongue plundered her mouth, the rasp of his tongue along the sensitive depths sending waves of need crashing over her. Her body trembled as his powerful hands traveled down her neck and past her shoulders to deftly undo the first few buttons of her dress. Large hands slipped inside the material, cupping the full curves of her breasts. She arched herself into the pressure of his thumbs drawing slow circles around the aching peaks.
Fighting to keep his own burgeoning passions in check, he removed his hands from her bodice even as he continued to ravage her mouth. One hand moved around her waist to hold her tightly while the other dropped down, gathering up her skirt to find the hem. He moved his hand beneath the hem of the dress, giving himself access to the long, graceful expanse of her thigh. She moaned her impatience into his mouth as he slowly slid his hand up to caress the soft, bare skin of her inner thigh. Finally reaching his destination, he slipped his fingers past her delicate, satin panties to inflame the moist heat waiting for him. He slid his mouth from hers to tenderly feast on the soft skin of her neck.
With every caress of his knowing fingers, waves of intense sensation flooded over Vash. He was taking her closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy. As her head rolled back baring her throat to his hot, questing mouth, Vash pleaded wantonly, "Please don't stop . . . Please, Jean-Luc . . . Just don't stop."
Feeling her rapid pulse against his lips as his mouth reached the hollow of her throat, Picard flicked his tongue harder against the pulse point. He continued to arouse her, searching for her body's rhythm. Her small hands moved to clutch his shoulders, her body taut and bowed as her hips started to move against his hand. His body tightened and grew painfully hard as Vash's soft supple curves writhed against him driving his own desire to an almost unbearable level.
She bit her lower lip as the fierce needs his tantalizing ministrations were building threatened to overwhelm her and her knees buckled. If not for the strong arm around her waist, she would have fallen to the ground. Jean-Luc's fingers stroked her with the skill of a maestro, taking her to near insanity. As the waves of pleasure overtook her, her fingers dug into the hard muscles of his shoulder. She collapsed against him, trying to catch her breath and regain her senses. With her hands braced on his shoulders, she gently pushed herself back from Jean-Luc. As she trailed her fingers down along the deep V-neckline of his shirt, her fingertips strayed to his bare chest. Undoing the fasteners of his shirt, she reached up pushing it off the masculine slope of his shoulders and stripping it from his firm torso. Her gaze followed her hands as they traveled upward along his bare arms, lingering on the solid, bulging biceps. Reaching his shoulders, she was fascinated by the breadth of them compared to her tiny palms. Her hands glided down his chest to explore the rippling pectorals and coarse chest hair. She thrilled at the power contained in his lean, muscular body.
Silky hair caressed Picard's shoulder as Vash sensuously trailed her hands over him, her head bent forward slightly. Her soft hands teased and tormented him as they drifted down over the tense muscles of his stomach to his waistband. A low groan escaped him as she found and gently stroked the evidence of his arousal. The hard length strained against the fabric of his jodhpurs, his hips jerking as he throbbed painfully against her small, talented hands. Sexual desire emanated from the very depths of her vivid blue eyes as she looked up at him with a come-hither expression.
"I want you," she whispered, her voice husky and passion-laced.
His fingers journeyed down the sundress to open each button in its turn. Drawing the thin muslin from her body, Picard's gaze pored over every inch of her, her eyes, her full lips, the graceful arch of her neck, the gentle swell of her breasts, her slim waist, the feminine curve of her hips, and those long legs. Marveling to himself, he murmured softly, "Mon Dieu, tu es belle."
Vash felt the fierce heat from his desire-hardened, grey eyes course over her entire body like it were an actual physical caress. The emotions this man ignited in her were unlike anything she had ever known. Waves of arousal caused the knot of desire in her stomach to tighten.
Once again sweeping her up into his arms, he gently laid her on the bed kneeling over her. The ivory skin tipped with deep rosy peaks and the lush roundness of her breasts proved to be too much of a temptation for Picard. Leaning down, he captured the stiff peak of one breast in his mouth. His name was a caress in his ears as Vash moaned softly, holding his head with both hands, pulling him even closer as he leisurely swirled his tongue over the taut peak. Savoring her impassioned reactions, he nipped at the hardened crest slightly before suckling strongly. As he feasted on one breast and then its twin, his hands drifted lower to adroitly slip her panties down the length of her legs dropping them to the ground next to the bed. His mouth moved, his lips and tongue caressing every dip and curve of his enchanting nymph. His hands moved to grasp the gentle flare of her hips, holding her still as his lips finally moved on to their final destination. Whimpering, she was pleading mindlessly as he licked and kissed the very center of her desire. His tongue probed and stroked her, the essence of her intoxicating him.
Vash thrashed helplessly as Jean-Luc kissed and suckled her very core, his hot mouth insisting on her total surrender. The urgency blossomed and her body rocked with completion as his lips and tongue brought about her second release. She collapsed against the soft bedding as spasms raced through her body. Her eyes fluttered open to find him standing next to the bed quickly stripping off his boots and jodhpurs. Her breath caught in her throat as she drank in the sight of his hard, tightly-sculpted body.
Joining her on the bed, he stretched himself out full-length to cover her body with his own. He braced himself above her and looked down the length of their bodies. He knew that, in spite of the two previous releases, she was not yet completely sated. There was more, much more, and he was determined to coax it from her. He dropped a leg between her soft, creamy thighs, silently urging her to let him in. She shifted her legs and he gently settled himself between her thighs. Her small hands tightly gripped his shoulders as he eased his throbbing length into her heated depths. With long, slow strokes, he pulled himself almost completely out before plunging back into her softness. He felt Vash's body tightening around him, trying to hold him deep inside with every thrust. He could feel the supple curves of her body instinctively molding to his, wanting to be as much a part of him as she could.
With every movement, Vash could feel Jean-Luc's body bury itself deep inside hers. The heat and fullness of each deliberate stroke was exquisite torment. Her hands glided down the slope of his broad shoulders to his bulging biceps. As her hands clutched at his tightly sculpted arms, anchoring herself, the corded muscles rippled beneath her fingertips inflaming her senses. She pushed her hips harder into his thrusts, her need now agonizing in its strength. The pressure mounting inside her threatened to overwhelm her. She whimpered in frustration, "More . . . Oh God, I need more . . . Please, Jean-Luc . . . Please, I need more."
"Trust me, petite amie. I know exactly what you need," he assured her in a husky whisper with several feathery kisses, his lips lightly teasing hers. He lifted his head to look down into her lovely face seeing her delicate features contorted with desperation. Despite his own desire, Picard managed to hold himself in check. He fought to keep his motions methodical, suppressing the urge to speed up, wanting to take Vash to the very edge of sexual madness.
"Now . . . More . . . Now . . . I need more now . . . Oh God . . . Jean-Luc, please!" Vash implored wantonly as he continued to slowly drive her out of her mind. She arched herself helplessly against him, trying futilely to quicken the pace. She could hear herself screaming, her cries of hunger echoing through the clearing. Frantic, she moved her heels up to push against his hips begging him for what her body craved.
As her passionate cries sent a fierce surge of arousal through him, Picard released the tight reign he had held on his own needs. The cadence he set was a rhythm of furious intensity. He drove into her relentlessly, giving himself up to the burning pleasure of his body moving in and out of hers. As he continued to take her with abandon, his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss just as ferocious as the way his body was possessing hers. He drove deep into her over and over. He could feel her body gripping him with each thrust, creating an incredibly tight, erotic, milking sensation throughout his hips. Like a mirror image of his own need, she twisted her hips up to challenge every thrust.
Vash matched him motion for motion as he drove into her hard and fast. She gave herself up to the strength and sheer virility of his masculine presence, surrendering herself to him completely. His body violently plummeted into her own, her hardened nipples grazing against the sparse hairs on his chest with every stroke. It was if her body had been expressly made for this pleasure-giving man. Once again, Jean-Luc was taking her closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy. Breaking the kiss, she screamed out, " Ohhh my God . . . Oh Jean-Luc . . . Ohhh my God . . . Ohhh God, Jean-Luc!" The tension that had he had been building in her at last reached a fulminating crescendo. Her final, overwhelming release exploded in wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over her. Her head fell back and her entire body arched upward racked with tremors.
"Oui . . . Oui Vash . . . Oui!" His roar of triumph merged into a feral duet with her cry of abandonment and he drove himself into her with a renewed urgency. He felt her entire body quake repeatedly with pleasure and deep inside him a deluge broke loose. He made one, final, powerful thrust, holding himself deep inside her, as his own explosive release consumed him. Collapsing onto her, Picard’s body was damp and his breathing labored from the physical exertion.
"Oh God, Oh my God, Oh God," Vash panted breathlessly, wondering if her quivering body and racing pulse would ever calm back down to normal. She welcomed Jean-Luc's weight as he collapsed against her. "I really needed that."
"Glad I could be of service," Picard quipped with a rueful chuckle as he rolled off to lay on his back next to her. Drawing her into his arms, he gently kissed her forehead as she snuggled into his embrace.
"This morning, at the house, did I actually lose it over cocktail napkins, table centerpieces and Klingon Gagh," she bemoaned as she idly ran her fingers through the coarse hair on his chest.
"I'm afraid so, chere," he replied tenderly, raising himself up on his forearm to look down at her. His appreciative gaze traveled over her. She was always so beautiful after lovemaking, with a rosy flush that highlighted her ivory skin, her lush lips swollen from his kisses and her dark hair fanned out across the pillow. Staring into her lovely, blue eyes, he murmured, "Je t`aime."
"Je t`aime," Vash echoed softly. Plucking a nearby white gardenia from the garland, she pondered her idyllic surroundings. "I wonder if we'll still do this once we're married."
"Well, I, for one, certainly hope we will," Picard deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not talking about sex," she giggled, gently thumping him on the forehead with the flower. "I'm talking about the grand, romantic gestures, passionate trysts and secret rendezvous. I was just wondering if we'll forget about them and fall into a dull routine of married life."
"No one, not even us, keeps that kind of amour up all the time," he responded watching her toy with the gardenia. "And, chere, I don't think life with you could ever get dull."
"Jean-Luc, I can probably count on one hand the number of time I've actually had to get into a bed under my own power to make love with you," Vash noted impishly. Seeing the look of utter bafflement on his face, she explained, "You invariably carry me to our bed."
"I don't always carry you to the bed."
"Yes, you do. Every once in awhile it's a playful fireman's carry," she cooed, gazing up at him flirtatiously through her lashes. "However, most of the time it's a very passionate Rhett Butler sweeping Scarlett O'Hara up the stairs of Tara kind of carry."
"And you find this a grand, romantic gesture on my part," he prompted teasingly.
"Well, yes."
"It never occurred to you that I was simply trying to expedite the process," he pointed out with a deep masculine chuckle.
"All right, fine," Vash huffed with feigned indignation as she pulled away from him and sat up. "I think it's time for lunch."
.........................................
Late in the afternoon, Beverly stood looking out one of the large picture windows of the Picard chateau. Gesturing for Troi to join her, she sighed, "Oh Dee, you have to come and see this."
"What is it?" Deanna asked walking over to join her friend at the window.
The two women watched as the captain galloped up the road toward the house astride the bay mare. Sitting sidesaddle in Picard's arms, Vash was holding a small bouquet of white gardenias and white magnolias bound in satin ribbon. Appearing much more relaxed than earlier in the day, the bride leaned back against her groom laughing and smiling as they rode toward the house.
"Have you ever seen anything so incredibly romantic?" the doctor gushed.
"Not since he carried her off this morning," Deanna giggled heading toward the front door. "Come on. I think the guys are all out front."
.....................................................
"It seems the welcoming committee is waiting for us," Picard chuckled to Vash as he noticed most of his senior staff milling around in the front yard as they rode up.
"You sound surprised."
"I was just about to send a search party out," Riker joked as Picard reigned the horse to a stop at the front gate. With a gallant smile, he reached up to help Vash down from the horse.
"Thank you, Will," she replied as he gently set her down on the ground.
"At ease, Number One. We weren't going to miss our own party," Picard told him as he expertly dismounted from the horse.
As Deanna and Beverly walked down the front path to meet Vash, Deanna observed with feigned innocence, "An afternoon ride must have been just what the doctor ordered. You seem much more relaxed."
Beverly added with a wink, "I take it you had a pleasant ride?"
As she and her bridesmaids headed toward the door, Vash responded with a sly smile, "Very much so. An energetic ride on such a magnificent stallion is always invigorating."
Standing next to Picard and the horse, Riker called out, "Ladies, this horse is a mare, not a stallion."
Stepping in the front door, Vash paused a moment before turning back to Riker, "William, you're the only one here talking about the horse."
Giggling wildly, the women disappeared inside the house, leaving a shocked and blushing Will Riker standing there stunned. As he led the horse away toward the stable, Picard laughed, "How many times do I have to warn you not to play with them."
***Finis***