Title: Double Entendre

Author: Whoa Nellie ([email protected])

Series: TNG

Rating: NC-17

Codes: P/Vash, W/T, D/f

Synopsis: During the Enterprise E's final fittings, Vash comes onboard as the ship's Chief Archaeologist. The evil Alternate Picard from the mirror universe appears to steal the new ship's schematics when he spots Vash and decides to take her with him. Can Picard stop his counterpart, saving his ship and the woman he loves?  This story was originally posted to ASC on March 20, 1999.

 

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

 

                Very early one morning, Jean-Luc Picard sat at the desk in his quarters looking through his family album.  It was hard to believe that a whole year had passed since the death of his brother, Robert, and his nephew, Renee; it had been a very hard blow when he received the news of the fire that killed his family.  Even though he spent much of his life in space, he had always felt a strong bond with his family on Earth and knowing that his brother was happy carrying on the Picard family name, with all of its traditions, had always filled him with a sense of fulfillment.  That feeling was gone, had been gone for a year now, and that hole was still there.  He looked out the window at the sun cresting over Mars; everything looked different here in space.  He recalled the sunrises over his family's vineyards in France.  Those sunrises from Earth somehow seemed, in his mind's eye, warmer and brighter than the one he was watching now.  He looked back down at the album, Counselor Troi had warned him that the anniversary of their deaths might be somewhat upsetting.  He had been raised with a strong sense of family pride, and the idea that he was going to be the last of the Picard line bothered him even now, a full year later.

 

                He sat back in his chair and smiled slightly, remembering the long talk he had last night with Guinan.  He had told her how much he regretted that he had never married and she had just cocked her head inquisitively, reached over and took his wrist, feeling for his pulse.  She told him that it seemed to her like he still had some time.  Starships tend to be very jealous mistresses, he had told her, it takes a very special type of woman to be a starship captain's wife.  She becomes an extension of her husband's command, she must be strong-willed and independent, but controlled enough to handle the demands that the position entails.  Guinan simply smiled, and remarked that chances were that the women he was attracted to already had the necessary qualities.  Guinan had told him that the right person would come along, one day he would look up and she would just be there, maybe sooner than he thought.  He hated it when Guinan dropped little bombs like that on him, it always made him feel as if she knew something more than she was saying.  Reluctantly, he closed the family album and got ready to go on duty.

 

........................................................

 

                "Captain Picard, are you all ready for the festivities tonight?" came Vice Admiral Alynna Nechayev's hail.

 

                Jean-Luc Picard was sitting at his desk in his ready room on the brand new Enterprise.  They were still in dry dock at the Utopia Planitia shipyards working on the completion of the Enterprise E.    "My staff assures me that everything is in place, Admiral."

 

                "Glad to hear it, Jean-Luc.  This certainly has been a long time coming," Admiral Nechayev responded.

 

                Picard leaned forward slightly in his chair, "by the way Admiral, I understand that Archaeology Councilmember Vash is currently teaching at the Academy.  As you are aware, she is the foremost expert on the Gamma quadrant.  Her expertise would be quite a valuable commodity to whomever had her.  Intelligence reports suggest that the Cardassians as well as the Romulans have taken an interest in her.  What has been done to provide for her security, if I may inquire?"

 

                Nechayev smiled slightly.  "I understand that Councilmember Vash is a personal friend of yours, Jean-Luc.  The matter has been dealt with.  I look forward to a personal tour of your new ship, at your convenience of course."

 

                "Of course, Admiral.  It would be my pleasure."  Picard terminated the communication and sat back in his chair.  His new ship.  It seemed like an eternity since the Enterprise D had been destroyed on Veridian III.  In actuality, it had only been a year since they had finished salvaging what they could from her and headed back to Earth to await the completion of the USS Enterprise NCC-17O1-E.  Or the "Big E" as she had been affectionately nicknamed by Riker.  She was even larger than her predecessor with a lot more fire power, including the new quantum torpedoes.  She was the largest, fastest, and most maneuverable ship that Starfleet had ever built.  The flagship of the fleet in every sense of the word.   Tonight's festivities were the welcoming reception for the civilian scientists who would head up the many science departments onboard the ship.

 

                The door chime rang.

 

                "Come," Picard responded absently.

 

                Commander William T. Riker entered the captain's ready room. "Everything is in place, sir.  Will you be returning to your quarters to change soon?"

 

                "On my way now, Number One."

 

                Picard made one final adjustment to his dress uniform and assessed his reflection in the mirror.  He dimmed the lights in his quarters and left for the reception.  Just after he exited there was a brilliant flash of light from within his quarters. In the darkness stood a lone figure.  He took a careful look around the quarters, noting the family album on the table beside the small sofa.  He stopped to examine his reflection in the mirror.  Staring back at him was the image of Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Imperial Starship Enterprise.

 

                "Quite luxurious quarters, captain.  I really must remember this decor when I get back to my own universe.  But first I must find the schematics for this lovely ship of yours to take back with me."

The Alternate Picard settled himself in front of the computer console.  "Computer, access personal logs from stardate 68951.3 to present.  Now, let's see what the good captain has been up to."

 

                Picard entered Ten Forward and surveyed the scene.  Starfleet dress uniforms were everywhere, interspersed liberally with civilians in formal dress; everyone appeared to be having a good time.  Guinan appeared beside him with a glass of Aldebaran whiskey from his private stock.

 

                "Hello Jean-Luc, have a drink. This might take the edge off things."

 

                "Thank you, Guinan.  Have you finished settling in yet?"

 

                "Just about.  It's still not quite home yet.  Riker was looking for you earlier, he's over by the window."

 

                "Thank you Guinan."  With that Picard took his drink and made his way through the crowd stopping occasionally to chat with old friends and acquaintances.

 

                Picard spotted Riker standing with Commander Data and Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge and made his way over.

 

                "Excellent party, Number One."

 

                "Thank you sir, are you having a good time?"  inquired Riker.

 

                Before Picard could respond, Riker's blue eyes took on an all too familiar gleam and he let out a low wolf whistle.

 

                "That gives a whole new meaning to the term red alert, huh Commander?" grinned Geordi.

 

                With that comment, Picard turned to see what his officers were talking about and saw . . . her.  She was wearing a formfitting red evening gown brilliantly sequined so that she appeared to sparkle in the light.  The strapless bodice revealed décolletage' that was dangerously low. The full-length gown skimmed her body and fell to the floor.  There was a slit on each side of the skirt that ended at her hips.  With each step and turn, a long, supple length of leg was revealed.

 

                "Vash?!" muttered Picard under his breath.  Then to his officers he said, "if you will excuse me gentlemen." With that, Picard excused himself to make his way over to where she was standing.

 

                Data just stared across the room at Vash.  He remembered her from her visit on the Enterprise D a few years back.  He just did not recall her being quite so beautiful.  She carried herself with elegant confidence, like a queen walking into her own court.  He watched as she smiled serenely at the captain's approach, her sparkling eyes and radiant smile lighting the entire room.  He felt something gently nudge his shoulder from behind and turned to look at Geordi.  Data's auditory memory told him that Geordi had called his name three times.

 

                "Data!"  Geordi called for the fourth time.  Then, concerned, he added "are you all right?"

 

                "I am fine, Geordi," Data responded, sounding more than a little distracted.  "Geordi, has the appearance of Councilmember Vash been altered since her last visit?  I do not recall her appearance as quite that attractive as the last time she was on the Enterprise."

 

                "I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later."  Riker clapped Data on the back as he exchanged an amused grin with LaForge.  Data's emotion chip had provided for some new and interesting diversions.

 

                "Yeah, Data, she was," Geordi smiled at Data as he answered.  "You just weren't hardwired yet to notice."

 

                The captain had made his way over to Vash.  Out of nowhere, or at least it seemed that way to Picard, next to Vash appeared Admiral Nechayev. There was a certain mischievous gleam in the Admiral's eyes as she spoke.  "Jean-Luc, I'd like to present the new head of the Enterprise's Archaeology Department.  I believe you are already acquainted with  Archaeology Councilmember Vash."

 

                "Hello, Jean-Luc."

 

                The coy smile on Vash's face was that of a woman who was beautiful, and damned well knew it.  She was a few inches shorter than himself, a brunette with a tiny, delicate frame and perfect curves.  Her blue eyes sparkled as she offered her hand to him.

 

                "Welcome aboard," Picard managed his most diplomatic smile as he took her hand in greeting.  'Oh yes, some joker at HQ was going to pay dearly for this.'  His thoughts of retribution were interrupted by the Admiral.

 

                "If you two will excuse me, I need to check in with one of my aides," and with that the Admiral made a graceful exit.

 

                "It's been a long time," Vash smiled as her eyes swept over the captain.  Picard had a sleek, tight, muscular build and, in full dress uniform, he looked quite dashing.  He was bald, except for the closely trimmed, gray hair at his temples, which accented his handsome, chiseled features and his steel gray eyes.  She loved his voice, that unbelievably sexy, deep, resonating voice.  She had heard one female instructor at Starfleet Academy describe Picard as pure, masculine virility.  Vash thought that about summed it up.

 

                Picard took Vash by the arm and led her to a quiet corner of the lounge.  In a soft but firm tone he said, "You could have forewarned me.  Your presence here creates some issues that will need to be addressed.  I personally have a strict policy about romantic entanglements with my officers or crew.  It avoids an unnecessary conflict of interest."

 

                "Tell me, Jean-Luc, is your opinion of yourself so inflated that you assume after all this time I would simply fall into bed with you."  Vash stared directly into his eyes, her voice was barely above a whisper.

 

                He blinked in shock and as his spine went ramrod straight, he hissed, "Certainly not!"

 

                "Good.  I was afraid that you were beginning to believe your own press.  For your information, I have a doctorate in interstellar archaeology as well as several other advanced degrees in the area of history.  Like yourself, I'm the best at what I do.  I'm here to work as a civilian scientist.  I'm sure you're aware that the Cardassians came damn close to capturing me right off of Bajor last year during an archaeology conference.  I think it is safe to assume that the Cardassians and the Romulans would have a tough time kidnapping me off the Federation's flagship."  Vash took a long look around her and gave a regal toss of her hair.

 

                "Besides, this is a very luxurious way to travel the galaxy. So, let me boil all this down for you, Captain.  I take my orders from the Archaeology Council, not from Starfleet, and certainly not from you."  Then she leaned in closer to him and placed her hand on his upper arm to whisper in his ear  "So much for your conflict of interest argument.  Pardon moi, mon capitaine, but you'll have to come up with some other reason to deny your feelings for me," with that she turned and walked off into the crowd.

 

                He watched her go.  He noticed her legs, beautiful, long legs that seemed to go on for light years.  She had the natural gait of a strip-tease queen.  She was right, he wanted her, wanted her desperately.  "Merde," he muttered to himself.

 

                Vash mingled with the other guests.  Picard was furiously trying to act like she wasn't even in the room and Vash knew that meant the captain was watching every move she made.  She even caught him openly glaring as a rather handsome young lieutenant asked if he could get her a drink.  Gotcha, Captain, she thought to herself.  She threw a sly smile in Picard's direction and then accepted the young man's offer.

 

                After some harmless flirting with the lieutenant, Vash again made her way through the crowd.  She finally caught sight of the person she was looking for.

 

                "Mr. Data,"  she greeted the ship's second officer with a friendly smile.  "You're just the man I needed to see."

 

                "Good evening, Professor Vash.  You require my assistance?" Data smiled down at her.  She had very expressive eyes.  His positronic brain registered that his internal body temperature was elevated slightly, he was having trouble correcting it.

 

                "Please, just call me Vash.  I was hoping you would help a lady in distress."  She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

 

                "How may I be of service?"  He hoped that he had not sounded too eager.

 

                "I need your help installing my computer down in cargo bay four.  I need it to be interfaced with the shipyard's computer core by tomorrow afternoon.  That way I can begin cataloging the lab equipment as it's sent over from the shipyard," she smiled sweetly.

 

                "Of course, I would be happy to help.  I will meet you in the cargo bay tomorrow at 0900 hours if that would be convenient," Data replied.  He was very thankful that he did not have the capacity to blush.

 

                "Thank you, Data.  You're a life saver."  Vash briefly laid her hand on his shoulder as she thanked him and then she moved off into the crowd.  Data found that he was looking forward to tomorrow morning.

 

...............................................................

 

                Picard stalked down the corridors of the Enterprise.  He had left the reception after he had barely leashed a severe urge to geld one particular young lieutenant.  He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.  'She has been onboard less than six hours and she has me acting like a schoolboy in kneepants,' Picard thought to himself.  He hadn't been able take his eyes off  Vash the entire evening.  What really bothered him was that she knew it.  Picard entered his quarters unfastening his uniform jacket.  He was very distracted with his thoughts of Vash, so much so in fact, that he failed to notice the shadow coming up beside him until it was too late.  The Alternate Picard pressed a hypo spray against Picard's neck.  Picard dropped to the floor with a thud.

 

                "So nice to see you again Captain Picard.  That is the Empire's finest muscle paralyzer, if you're interested," taunted the alternate to the unmoving form on the floor.  "That will keep you safely out of my way while I complete my mission.

 

                The Alternate Picard dragged Picard's helpless body over to the far wall of his quarters where a row of waist-high storage cubicles lined the wall.  He shoved Picard into a cubicle and closed the door.

 

                "And that will keep you out of everyone else's way until I am safely gone," the alternate finished.

 

                Picard was still very much conscious and very concerned.  If this was indeed who he thought it was, a sinister reflection of himself, they were all in desperate trouble.  How could he expect any of his crew to defeat a man he was not sure even he could defeat.  Picard frantically searched his memory for the logs of Captain James T. Kirk from his time in the alternate universe as well as drawing from his own experiences there for a key to solving this dilemma.

 

                Just then, the door chime announced the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

 

                "Come," the alternate said while straightening his uniform.

 

                The door slid open to reveal Vash, still in her evening gown, standing at the entrance to Picard's quarters.  The alternate could not believe his eyes.  Vash?!  His treasured Vash was alive here in this universe.  Vash strode into the room.

 

                "Jean-Luc, we need to talk."

 

                As Picard heard Vash's voice, his thoughts turned desperate. 'No, not Vash!  Please, let it be anyone but her!'  The decorative slats in the cubicle perversely allowed Picard to see what was happening in the room from his make-shift prison.

 

                The alternate crossed the room to Vash in two quick strides and swept her into his arms.  His mouth descended on hers in a forceful kiss as he moved to carry her into the bedroom.

 

                "Jean-Luc, what about what you said earlier?" Vash protested as she tried to push herself away.  Granted, she had come here with every intention of seducing him, but he had turned the tables on her so fast that her head swam from the suddenness of his passionate onslaught.

 

                The Alternate Picard put her down and pressed her against the wall separating the main room of the quarters from the bedroom.  He had fashioned an entirely different prison for Vash, he had her soft, supple form molded to the contours of his long, hard body.  His voice was a deep, resonating growl,  "To hell with whatever was said earlier.  I must have you, Vash."

 

                'No!' Picard's mind screamed as he watched his alternate with Vash.  'Leave her alone, you bastard.  You have no right to her. She's mine.'

 

                "Make it so, mon Capitaine," Vash managed to whisper just before his mouth attacked hers in a savagely possessive kiss.  His tongue forced its way between her parted lips, ravaging every corner of her mouth.  Vash's entire body flared into a highly charged state of anticipation.  The rosy crests of her breasts hardened, crushed against the muscular wall of his chest.  As her lips and tongue responded to the demands of his, she lost herself in the strength of his arms and his clean, masculine scent.

 

                With one hand, the alternate Picard swiftly began unfastening the clasps along the back of her gown.  She was his for the taking and he planned on doing just that.  The other hand glided up the slit of her gown.  As he moved his hand, the dress parted, giving him access to the long, graceful expanse of thigh beneath.  He grasped her thigh and drew her leg up to wrap it around his hip.  The alternate deepened the kiss further, moving his body even closer to hers.

 

                A soft moan escaped Vash and her hands began moving over his upper arms to his broad shoulders.  She dropped her hands and ran them along his strong thighs.  Moving her hands higher, she found the evidence of his passion for her.  She heard him groan when her delicate hands brushed over the hard length.  She made her way up to the fastenings of his uniform jacket.  Jerking them open, she pulled the jacket off and dropped it to the floor just as he succeeded in unfastening the final clasp to her gown.  When he finally broke off the kiss, she stared up into his steel grey eyes and allowed her gown to slide down the length of her body to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. The fierce, carnal heat in his expression set Vash's pulse racing.

 

                Picard caught his breath at the sight of Vash's near-naked form as her gown hit the floor.  This couldn't be happening.  How could she not know that this wasn't him?  Mon Dieu, she was even lovelier than he remembered.

 

                The alternate Picard stepped back slightly to gaze at her.  She was now in nothing but a red satin, strapless brassiere and panties.  Mon Dieu, she was more beautiful than he remembered.  He stepped back into her arms and began pressing moist, heated kisses down her throat and onto her enticing cleavage.  His hands traveled roughly over her body, demanding access to every curve.  He deftly unhooked her brassiere as his tongue traced the swell of her breasts.  Discarding the bra, his large hand cupped the front of her red satin panties.  His mouth settled over one taut nipple and began suckling strongly.   Just then, his fingers slipped past the flimsy barrier to inflame the moist heat already aching for him.  His voice resonated over the damp skin of her breasts as he rasped,  "You're body is amazingly responsive, as if you were created for my lovemaking."

 

                'The son-of-a-bitch is deliberately taunting me as he seduces her!'  an enraged Picard fumed powerlessly from his small, makeshift prison cell.

 

                "Jean-Luc," Vash moaned passionately, closing her eyes.  She drew in deep breaths and arched herself into his relentless mouth and insisting hands.  Her hands gripped his broad shoulders, her nails digging into the hard muscles.  She was only barely aware that the remaining piece of red satin had been removed from her body with surprising expertise.  His fingers continued to invade and stroke her mercilessly, driving her to near insanity.  His mouth left her breasts to journey back up to nibble the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder.

 

                "You're so wet," the alternate Picard's growl was husky with masculine satisfaction as his fingers caressed and filled her erotically.  His hand slid down to grip her graceful thigh.  He pulled it up to his hip and wrapped her leg once again around his waist, pressing her forcefully against the wall.  "I have to take you now . . . hard and fast."

 

                At the same moment, he entered her with one deep, powerful thrust.  Vash's eyes flew open in surprised shock.  It had felt as if his hands had never left her.  When had he managed to undo his own uniform trousers?  Who the hell cared!  She felt herself losing control with the first swift movements of his strong muscular hips.  The cadence he set was furious, demanding total possession of her body.  With each thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her completely.  He continued to take her with rapid, forceful strokes, driving himself into her relentlessly.  As she was swept up by her first release, Vash wrapped her other leg around him to imprison him between her legs.

 

                The alternate felt the shudders take over Vash's body and wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling her up against him even further.  He lowered his mouth to imprison and tease the rosy peak of one breast.  He thrust into her with an ever-increasing urgency.  Fiercely, he drove deep into her, over and over.  He let his mouth claim the tip of her other breast, teasing it as he had its mate.

 

                "Oh Jean-Luc!" Vash cried out as a second set of tremors raced through her body.  She felt one last powerful blow as he reached his own release.  Vash let herself collapse against his strong frame, both of them damp from their physical exertions.  His hands glided over her body, rebuilding the fires of passion he had just fed.  She could feel his own desire returning.

 

                "Round two already, Jean-Luc?" Vash teased in a heated whisper as she lifted her face to his.

 

                Picard was helpless to do anything but watch as his alternate once again seized Vash's lips in a deep kiss as he swept her into the bedroom.  Picard watched in horror as his alternate failed to close the bedroom door.  His entire being screamed in frustration.  It should be me with her!  For the first time in his military career, thoughts of his ship and crew were not paramount to him.  The sounds of Vash's breathtaking body being possessed yet again by his alternate nearly drove him out of his mind.

 

                The next morning, Vash awoke to find that she was alone in Jean-Luc's bed.  A note on his pillow told her that he had to be on the bridge early and he didn't want to wake her.  The note promised that they would talk later.  She sat up to find that certain muscles were quite sore from last night's endeavor, or should she say endeavors.  Three times.  Of course that in itself wasn't all that unusual.  Jean-Luc had great stamina, he was definitely one damned sexy man.  He was also a man of a great many talents.  She remembered him as a very gentle, patient partner; however, last night he had been insatiable.   Each time he had taken her, it was more frenzied than the time before, almost bordering on violent.  As she dressed to return to her own quarters, she smiled to herself.  She could give as good as she got.  She was sure she wasn't the only one with aching muscles.

 

.......................................................................

 

                "Klingons do not pick flowers!"  Lieutenant Commander Worf looked down into the delicate features of his beautiful woman.  He grunted with satisfaction; his woman.  Things had been wonderful in the last year and a half since their relationship had become serious.  Even Alexander was pleased with his choice of a mate.  She was infinitely satisfying to him in many ways.  He shifted a bit uncomfortably at his thoughts of some of her most satisfying ways.  He grunted to himself again.  Perhaps delicate was not a good word to describe this amazing woman.  Why he had ever wasted so much time worrying about hurting her during mating was beyond him.  He often came away much more exhausted and sore than she ever had.

 

                "Come on Father, it's fun," laughed Alexander as he scampered off into the recently completed arboretum.

 

                Commander Deanna Troi smiled up into the face of her gruff warrior.  As an empath, she knew his gruff exterior was just an act.  Worf was actually quite tender.  He was a large man, completely dwarfing her small frame.  The ridges on his forehead gave him a decidedly gruff appearance which belied the soft, sensitive nature underneath.  And those huge hands, she shivered as she remembered just how soft and sensitive those hands had been on her skin the night before.  It was hard for her to believe that this gentle giant had ever worried about hurting her.  He was wonderful in so many ways, even her mother approved of their upcoming nuptials.  Klingon custom allowed for a much less formal joining ritual than did Betazed custom.  They had become Klingon mates, but until they were properly married on Betazed, it was still officially a betrothal.  The ceremony her mother was undoubtedly planning... well, she simply didn't want to know.

 

                Worf, Alexander and she had been having a breakfast picnic in the arboretum before Alexander had to get to his studies and they had to get back to their duties.  Since they still had some time, Deanna had suggested that they take a walk through the arboretum and pick some flowers.  That latter suggestion had prompted Worf's surly reply.  He watched her appreciatively as she finished packing away their picnic items and folded the blanket.  Deanna moved gracefully, making her exotic features and ample curves seem all the more sensuous.  She laid the blanket on top of the basket and turned to Worf.  Smiling up at him seductively, she walked up to stand face to chest with him and leaned up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Klingons do if they ever want to see me naked again this century."  With a toss of her long, dark hair and a swish of her hips she sauntered off into the arboretum.

 

                Worf growled menacingly, then gave a huge sigh and turned to go pick some flowers.

 

...........................................................

 

                The Alternate Picard strode briskly through the unfinished corridors of the Enterprise E.  He calmly nodded as several crew members hurried by him.  He smiled to himself.  Such an eager crew, he thought, what a pleasant change from the Imperial fleet.  Although he was aware that the ship was larger than its predecessor, he was only beginning to realize how much larger it was.  He could only hope that the technological advancements matched the architectural accomplishments.  Such a ship would make a fine addition to the Empire.

 

                Stealing the ship would be out of the question.  The Empire could not afford another undertaking so risky, particularly after the previous failure.  They had needed to divert all of the resources to the shipyards to rebuild the fleet after that last disastrous battle with the Klingons.  Seventeen ships were currently being constructed with another six on the drawing boards.

 

                A sizable fleet for the Empire.  A fleet in need of a flagship.  The Enterprise D had very nearly been destroyed along with seven other ships in a battle near the Klingon homeworld six months ago.  Soon after that battle, intelligence had reported that a new Enterprise was being constructed in the alternate reality.  The reality that the other Picard and his crew had come from almost five years ago.

 

                He stepped onto the turbolift.

 

                His thoughts wandered.  Vash.  He allowed a brief smile in the privacy of the turbolift.  What a delightful present to receive from my counterpart.  It would have been quite rude of me not to enjoy such a gracious gift.

 

                But what was he going to do about her?  What would the reprisals be if he took her back with him?  Undoubtedly, there would be an uproar at Starfleet command.  Uproar or not, he was saving the Empire by delivering the plans of the Enterprise E to their waiting hands.  He was used to uproar.  The Imperial Starfleet Command was just going to have to live with it.  He was accustomed to getting what he wanted.  He wanted her.

 

                He shook his head and drew his wandering thoughts back to the task at hand.  The schematics would be easy enough to obtain. Keeping his activities from the crew would be more difficult.  Commander Data could easily trace any files transferred to or from the central computer core.

 

                He stepped onto the bridge.  It was still in complete disarray.  Commander Riker was overseeing the installation of the communications system.  He had a slightly bored expression on his face as he stroked his beard aimlessly.  Riker looked up from the mass of circuits to greet the captain

 

                "The communications system will be down for another week. We still have sub-space with the shipyard and inner-ship audio. The vid-screens are still not interfacing with the inner-ship systems."  Riker looked relieved for the momentary distraction. "On the brighter side, Geordi reports that engineering is ready for the warp coil fitting to begin later this afternoon."

 

                The Alternate Picard forced a smile.  He needed to remember how amicable this Picard was with his crew.  "Number One, it seems as if you have this well in hand.  I will be in my ready room.  Carry on."

 

                Riker had mastered sub-space and advanced systems at the academy.  He had found them about as exciting then as he did now. He let out a long sigh.  "Yes sir."

 

.............................................

 

                "Computer.  Access all schematic designs and blueprints for Enterprise NCC-1701-E."  The Alternate Picard sat down behind the desk and peered at the console.  He looked back up and over his shoulder   "What is that damn fish doing in here?"

 

                The computer responded,  "Unable to comply with request.  Schematic data unavailable from this station."

 

                "Why not?" he demanded.

 

                "Insufficient storage capacity at this station."

 

                "Picard to Engineering.  Mr. LaForge," he grimaced.

 

                "Yes, Captain."

 

                "Mr. LaForge, I need to review the schematics for the Enterprise but I am having difficulty accessing the data.  Can you tell me why?"

 

                "The systems are not fully integrated yet, Captain.  The systems we did have integrated have been pulled off line because of the warp coil fitting this week."  The engineer's voice sounded fatigued. "The full schematics are still in Planitia's computer."

 

                "Understood, Picard out."

 

                'So, this was going to be a bit more difficult than he had anticipated,' he thought, a bit vexed at the delay.  Well, there was more than one way to skin the proverbial cat.   The Alternate Picard smiled grimly as he began keying commands onto the computer keyboard.

 

........................................................

 

                In cargo bay four, Data was bent over an empty, inverted shipping crate that had Vash's computer on top of it.  He was almost finished interfacing it with the shipyard's main computer core.  It had taken him almost three hours.  He really could have done it in a fraction of that time, but he was enjoying his conversation with Vash.  She was very quick-witted and charming. Her knowledge of different cultures both present and past was astounding.  She was also well-versed in Earth's classic literature and the performing arts.  They had discussed two of his favorites, Sherlock Holmes and Shakespeare.  He had discovered that her favorite book was *Gone With the Wind*.  She loved and identified with the character of Scarlet O'Hara.  For the past half hour, she had been talking to him about rock and roll, a popular type of music in the twentieth century that had evolved from jazz.

 

                "It should only take me a few more minutes to have your computer fully operational."  Data looked up at Vash.

 

                "Oh, Data   You're an angel.  It would have taken me all of today and most of tomorrow to do this," Vash sighed as she leaned against the wall.  "I hope I'm not wasting too much of your time."

 

                "I am happy to help," he replied.  Data thought to himself, 'wasting my time?'  What man would not enjoy spending all his time with such a pretty and charming lady.  He added, "if you should require my assistance with anything else, all you have to do is ask."

 

                "Be careful Data.  With all the equipment I have to check in and catalogue, I might take you up on that," she grinned and winked at him.

 

                Data stood and looked down at Vash's smiling face and sparkling blue eyes.  He wondered what it would be like to have a woman like her love him.  He knew that was out of the question with her.  This lady had been and possibly still was involved with Captain Picard.  Of course, there was nothing wrong with spending time with her while he was helping her.  He was hoping she would take him up on his offer.  He wanted to spend more time with her.  He smiled back at her, "I hope you will.  I enjoyed our conversation."

 

                "So did I.  If you feel that you simply must help me with all this red tape, well, who am I to argue?" she winked at him again as she teased.  "I make it a policy never to turn down help from handsome Starfleet officers."

 

                "I must be on the bridge shortly.  I will check on you again when I am off duty to make certain everything here is satisfactory,"  Data nodded to her and started to leave.

 

                "Thanks, Data," Vash called out to him as he left.

 

                As Data made his way to the bridge, he was lost in thought. She was so perfect.  She was smart and beautiful and funny.  She had said that she enjoyed his company.  She had called him handsome.  Even if she was involved with Captain Picard, there was certainly nothing wrong with providing his assistance to her.

 

....................................................................

 

                "Worf to Picard." Worf was standing at the commlink in shuttlebay six.  "The shuttle you requested is ready for departure, sir.  Planitia is expecting you within the hour."

 

                "Very good, Mr. Worf.  I will be down shortly," the Alternate Picard's voice responded.  "You may return to your duties."

 

......................................................................

 

                Deanna sat in front of the computer screen in her office reviewing personnel files for the Enterprise's new crew.  Many were crew members who had served with the Enterprise D, but with the larger crew complement of the Big E as well as the crew members who had been reassigned to other ships, there were many new crew members for her to become familiar with.  She stretched her back and absently rubbed the back of her neck.  When her door chime rang, she checked her chronometer.  She wasn't expecting her next appointment for another hour   She looked up at the door, still rubbing her neck, and called out "Come."

 

                Worf entered Deanna's office and stood to admire his lovely lady.  She looked tired.  He walked over to her and, moving her hand, took over the job of massaging her sore muscles.  Deanna leaned back, closed her eyes and felt like purring.

 

                "Oh Worf, that feels wonderful."

 

                "You're tense.  You should take time out to do some Mok'bara."  Worf could feel the tension in her neck and shoulders easing out of her muscles.  Mok'bara was a ritual Klingon martial-arts form designed to enhance warrior hand-to-hand combat abilities as well as their spirituality.  Many of the Enterprise D's crew used Mok'bara as a relaxation tool.

 

                "Perhaps later, I don't really have time now."

 

                "Are you expecting someone?"

 

                "Not for a little while."  Deanna suddenly had a delightful idea.

 

                "Computer, secure the door to my office."  Deanna stood up and turned to face Worf.  "I can think of a much better way to work the kinks out."

 

                Deanna reached out to cup Worf's face in her hands.  As she pulled the tie out of his hair with one hand, her other hand was stroking his massive chest.  She then moved both hands under the sash he wore and drew it up over his head to drop onto the floor.

 

                "Here?  Now?"  Worf couldn't believe what Deanna had in mind.

 

                "Yes," she was quite amused at Worf's very uncharacteristic shyness.

 

                Deanna dropped to her knees.  She smiled mischievously up at Worf as she began massaging and caressing his muscular thighs.  She intentionally avoided his sensitive inner thighs and instead began working the muscles in the backs of his thighs.  As her hands moved up to cup and knead the hardness of his backside, Worf got the general idea and dropped to join her on the floor.

 

                "What took you so long?" she whispered as she moved to straddle him.  Worf started to speak but Deanna put her fingers against his mouth and shook her head.  Wordlessly, she unfastened his uniform.   She drew off his shirt and, after tossing it onto the floor beside them, ran her fingernails lightly down the expanse of his chest.  His massive, ebony torso shivered at her teasing touch.  Her hands moved back up to pinch and tease his nipples, then she leaned over to take one nipple into her mouth.  She swirled her tongue lightly around it then nipped lightly at it and quickly stroked her tongue over the nipple again.   As she alternately licked and bit at the straining nub, Worf groaned and arched his back.  He moved to roll over to position her under him, but Deanna blocked him and transferred her mouth to his other nipple while her hands moved to unfasten his pants.  She moved to draw his pants down his legs and deposited them on the floor with the rest of the clothing already there.

 

                "You're overdressed," Worf rasped out between breaths.  This woman could excite him faster than any woman he had ever known. Klingon women could take lessons from her.  Deanna arched an eyebrow and stood over him.  Swaying seductively, she drew one arm out of her dress and then the other.  Slowly, inch by inch, she let the dress fall to the floor.  Wearing nothing but her bra and panties, she joined him again on the floor.

 

                This time, Worf succeeded in moving to cover her body with his own.  He claimed her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.  He could feel Deanna's hands running up and down the ridges of his back, and the occasional scrape of her fingernails.  He felt the urge to bay like a Klingon targ; instead he lowered his head to growl into the delicate juncture between her throat and shoulder.  As Deanna arched her body into his, her hands moved up to entwine themselves into his hair.  Worf's hands ceased their possessive exploration of her body to cup her glorious breasts.  When they encountered her bra, he gave an impatient growl and yanked it off.  He covered both her breasts with his huge hands; he had never been so glad to have such large hands.  She arched into the pressure of his palms and then gave a sharp gasp as his mouth claimed one of her breasts.  He drew the entire tip of her breast into his mouth, suckling it as he continued to knead and torment her other breast.

 

                When Deanna could stand this gentle torture no longer, she pushed at Worf's chest and rolled them over so that she was again straddling him.  Leaning down, with her hands on either side of his head, she claimed his lips possessively.  Moving her bottom teasingly over Worf's tight, muscular thighs, she nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth.  Worf's hands grasped her breasts once again and he flicked her nipples with his callused thumbs. Deanna growled, deep in her throat, and pressed her silk-clad hips harder into his body.  With one hand, Worf tore off the last remaining barrier.   Deanna caught both of his hands and pressed them to the floor above his head.  Holding his wrists with her small hands, she moved her hips closer to where he burned for her.  She rubbed her hips against him in a frustrating simulation of what he wanted so fiercely.

 

                "Now, woman!"  Worf growled.

 

                Deanna smiled at the power she had over this giant warrior.  Leaning forward, she took a swollen nipple between her teeth and pulled strongly.  Slowly, tauntingly, she began to inch her way down onto him.  She flicked the end of his tortured nipple with her tongue before releasing it to sit up. 

 

                As she finally settled her hips against his, Worf growled again and pulled his hands out of hers.  Holding her against him, he rolled to again cover her with his body.  With blood pounding in his ears, he drove into her sharply again and again.  He could feel her hands gripping his hips spurring him on.  Bracing himself on his forearms, he continued to drive himself into her. 

 

                Deanna could feel her emotions spiraling out of control.  She wrapped her legs around his hips and felt him driving even deeper.  She was breathing heavily and she could hear that his breathing was also very labored.

 

                "More," she panted desperately.  Suddenly, her back arched and she raked her nails down his back.  "Yes!" she screamed as she felt her release take her.

 

                Worf's own release followed Deanna's closely.  This time he could not suppress the primitive howl that ripped from his throat as he arched into her one final time before collapsing onto her.  Almost immediately, he rolled over onto his side, taking her with him and settling her against his chest.  He could feel the trickles of blood that she had drawn with her nails in her excitement.  They laid there each trying to bring their labored breathing back to normal.

 

                "Riker to Worf,"  the call from the communicator startled them.

 

                "Nice timing, Will," Deanna muttered as Worf reached across her to get to his communicator on the floor beside them.

 

..............................................

 

                The Alternate Picard surveyed the Planitia shipyard.  It was just as he remembered it two years ago before it was destroyed by the Martian rebels.  He had fought in that campaign and earned the Crimson Eagle for crushing the rebellion.  A volley of photon torpedoes had destroyed their ships.  Such a pity they had lowered their shields under a flag of truce.

 

                He pushed the thoughts of battle from his mind and began making his way to the Harbormaster's office.  Within minutes he was looking at Commander Kerrgan.

 

                "This is an unexpected pleasure, Captain Picard."  The red-haired commander stood from his desk revealing his lanky frame, "How can I be of service?"

 

                "As you know, my engineering staff is preparing to fit the warp coil.  I would like to review the complete schematics to my ship before they begin that process.  I am unwilling to give the engineering crew clearance until I review these plans; however, the computers have not yet been fully integrated.  Because of this, I was required to come down here to view the plans."

 

                "I understand your concerns, Captain," the commander nodded as he rubbed his beard, "However, accessing those plans-"

 

                "Is absolutely necessary.  There are reasons why I am the captain of the flagship, Commander Kerrgan,"  he responded coldly.

 

                The commander's back stiffened.  "Yes, sir."

 

                "Very well.  I will also need the use of one of your terminals with shipyard to ship capacity," the alternate spoke in a very assuming tone.

 

                "Of course, sir, but-"  started Kerrgan.

 

                "Now, Commander!" barked the alternate.

 

                "Sir!"  Kerrgan responded.  "The only terminal with that capacity is my own."

 

                "Very good.  I need one hour."

 

                "Sir, I must make a report of this to Starfleet.  It is highly irregular," Kerrgan's voice was shaken.  He entered his security codes so that Picard could access the files.

 

                The commander turned his back to leave.  The Alternate Picard drew his phaser and directed it at the officer's back.  He nudged the setting to its highest intensity.

 

                "Commander Kerrgan," the alternate said calmly as he fired, "Dismissed."

 

                The alternate sat down at the late Commander Kerrgan's desk and within minutes he had accessed the schematics to the Enterprise.  Now, where to hide them until he could make his escape.  His gaze fell on some requisition forms.   On top of the stack was a requisition for the Enterprise's archaeology lab.  It was perfect.  Vash's computer was for civilian use so it would be low priority.  It wasn't integrated with the ship's main computer core, but it was accessible from the shipyard.  To anyone but him the files would look like nothing more than equipment transfer orders.  He could kill two birds with one stone, the plans and Vash would be in one place.  He quickly began to transfer the files.

 

........................................................

 

                "Voice activation,  Program Riker One,"  Riker droned.

 

                "Voice identification initiated.  Identify Riker, William T. Rank: Admiral."

 

                Data had just walked on the bridge in time to hear the computer's response.  He looked at the first officer with a wry smile.  "Advancing through the ranks rather quickly, sir?"

 

                "I would watch what you say,  I can make you an ensign in an instant."  Riker pulled the communications grid from the panel. "How are the sensor relays working."

 

                "Fine, sir,"  the android replied, "I was just about to do an internal sensor sweep of the ship."

 

                "Wonderful,"  the first officer handed the circuit board to a nearby crew member, "fix this."  He walked over to join Data at the sensor station, "Why don't you begin."

 

                The sensor screen lit up in a dull blue-green glow.  "The sensors are coming on line now.  The ship will appear somewhat different than what you are accustomed to, sir.  As you know, we are still being powered by the shipyard.  Their power signatures are much different than that of a starship."

 

                "Would that be affecting the reading in the captain's quarters?"  The first officer pointed to a peculiar distortion on the screen.

 

                "That reading would suggest a tacheon distortion,"  Data replied.  He rechecked the sensor readings.  "I am perplexed, sir.  At those levels, it would suggest that a type III wormhole has recently formed in the captain's quarters."

 

                The first officer hit his communicator, "Riker to Worf."

 

                After a brief pause, Worf's clipped response came back, "Yes, Commander."

 

                "Have you been running?  You sound winded, Mr. Worf."

 

                "I am fine, Commander.  What is the problem?"

 

                "I'm not sure, meet me at Captain Picard's quarters."  He looked at Data, "Run a level two diagnostic on this array and then check the relays for tacheon trace elements.  This may just turn out to be another glitch in the system."

 

................................................

 

                Worf quickly turned the corner near the captain's quarters.  Riker was already waiting for him, tricorder in hand.  "Sorry for the delay, Commander."

 

                Riker looked up from his tricorder, "I'm reading intermittent life signs.  There may be someone inside."

 

                The security officer surveyed the doorway.  "The security seal is still intact.  I will attempt to override."  He pressed a panel, "Voice override Worf, alpha seven one five, execute."

 

                "Voice activation denied, Chief O'Brien does not serve on the Enterprise," the computer droned.

 

                Riker rolled his eyes.  "Perhaps a more direct approach is in order."

 

                The Klingon nodded, "Agreed."

 

                Worf smashed the control panel.

 

                "Override accepted."

 

                The first officer peered inside the room. "Phasers on stun."

 

                The two stepped inside.  Riker pointed to a storage cabinet on the far side of the room.  "The readings are stronger over there."

 

                Worf tried the door to the cubicle.  He grimaced and tore the door from the cabinet.

 

                Riker reacted immediately,  "Riker to sickbay.  Medical emergency.  Dr. Crusher to the captain's quarters."

 

                Worf pulled Picard's weak form from the cabinet and gently lowered him to the floor.  "He appears to be conscious, sir."

 

                Riker looked into the captain's eyes.  "Captain Picard, can you hear me?  It's Will, Beverly is on her way."

 

                The first officer looked up.  "He's in the dress uniform he wore last night at the reception.  That must mean he either changed back into it for some reason-"

 

                "Or we have an impostor aboard!"  the Klingon exclaimed.

 

                Dr. Beverly Crusher hurried into the quarters.  "What happened?"

 

                "We're not sure.  Someone may have attacked the captain," responded Riker.

 

                Beverly scanned the captain.  "I believe he was injected with some sort of neural inhibitor.  He's been incapacitated for at least twelve hours, maybe longer," she spoke to Riker as she prepared a hypo spray, "this is a general stimulant.  It should counteract the inhibitor in a few minutes."

 

                While administering the stimulant, she looked down at her patient.   "Jean-Luc, it's Beverly.  You're going to be fine. This should take effect shortly."

 

                Picard's weak voice could barely be heard,  "Intruder alert."

 

                Riker leaned down to help the captain who was attempting to sit up, "what did you say, sir?"

 

                "Please, Jean-Luc, you should take it easy.  I need to do a complete physical," Crusher interrupted in a concerned voice.

 

                "There is no time for.that right now, Doctor."  Picard's voice was getting stronger.  Looking up at the doctor's concerned expression he added,  "Later, Beverly.  I promise."

 

                "Captain, can you tell me what happened, sir?" Riker asked his commanding officer.

 

                "I was attacked by..." the captain hesitated, "my counterpart from the alternate universe, I believe."

 

                The first officer nodded.  "Do you know why he crossed over?"

 

                "I have no idea, Number One."  Picard was beginning to regain his strength.   He gingerly stood up,  "however, I have reason to believe that Councilmember Vash may be in danger."

 

                "Computer, locate Councilmember Vash," Riker ordered.

 

                "Councilmember Vash is in cargo bay four."

 

                Picard nodded, "That's where he's headed.  Number One, you and Worf are with me.  Have a security team meet us there.  I want that entire section secured."

 

                Beverly began to protest as Picard started to leave. "Not now, doctor."

 

                The door slid shut behind them leaving the doctor alone in the room.  Beverly Crusher shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation.  "Why do I even bother?"

 

.......................................................

 

                As soon as the Alternate Picard returned from his trip to Planitia, he made his way to cargo bay four.  He walked in and glanced around.  There were at least twenty crates of archaeology lab equipment that had been unloaded onto the floor.  All of it needed to be checked and cataloged by Vash for her lab.  Vash had complained to him last night that it was going to take her at least a week of straight paperwork before she could start to actually set up her lab.  He spotted her by the far wall standing next to the wall comm link   She had taken an empty crate turned upside-down and was using it as a makeshift desk.   Her computer and other materials were spread across it.   She wore her brunette hair in her customary classic shoulder length style which framed her lovely face.  She pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes as she scanned the computer screen.  She was in a peach dress overlaid in chiffon with a delicate flower pattern on it.  It had a sweetheart neckline and fitted bodice with a full skirt which fell with fluid elegance to about mid calf.   She was absentmindedly tapping the heel of one graceful pump on the deck of the cargo bay.  As he walked across the bay his eyes swept over her feminine form, the swell of her breasts, the slim waist, the curve of her hips, the delicate ankles.   When the proper time came all he would have to do was call up the files he had hidden in her computer and transfer them to disk.  Then he would just grab her and the disk, then activate his transponder.  They would both be gone before anyone had a clue.

 

                As he reached the desk, she glanced up and smiled, "Hi there.  I thought you would be busy flying this huge boat."

 

                Just then, Worf and two security guards burst into the room, phasers drawn.  Close on their heels was Commander Riker.  The Alternate Picard rushed one of the two guards, knocking him down and taking his phaser.  The other had to dive out of the way to avoid the shot fired by the Alternate Picard.  The alternate turned and grabbed for a shocked Vash.  Riker beat him to her by a split second.

 

                In a swirl of peach chiffon and Starfleet uniform, he threw her and then himself behind her makeshift desk.  He used his large frame as a shield to protect her, giving Worf and his security guards a chance to grab and disarm the impostor.

 

                "Worf to Captain, we have him.  The area is secure, sir," Worf informed Picard over his communicator as his men held the Alternate Picard.

 

                Riker stood and gently helped Vash to her feet.  Picard had just entered the cargo bay.  Vash looked from one Picard to the other.  "Will, what the hell is going on?!" she demanded, looking up at Riker.

 

                Riker looked down at her.  She was still standing quite close, practically in his arms; he took a step back.    She did deserve an answer.

 

                "Have you ever heard theories about alternate universes?" he lowered his voice.

 

                She nodded.

 

                He continued.   "The impostor is from an alternate universe, one where the Federation is an evil Empire ruled by brute force and violence.   Last night he attacked the captain, imprisoned him, and took his place for some reason.  We don't know what that reason was."

 

                "When last night, exactly?" her heart began beating faster.

 

                "Right after he returned to his quarters from the reception," Riker replied.  He noticed that Vash had paled considerably.

 

                'Oh God, What have I done!' she thought to herself, barely able to breathe.

 

                Picard's voice rang across the cargo bay, "Number One."

 

                "Yes, sir," Riker answered as he laid a gentle hand briefly on Vash's shoulder, and then turned and walked to the captain.

 

                Vash barely noticed, she was deep in thought.  What I've done is sleep with the wrong man!  This wasn't possible!  The man she had been with last night looked, sounded, and felt like Jean-Luc Picard.  She would have known the difference!  Or would she?  Riker said the impostor was from an alternate universe.  Another Picard from another universe, wouldn't he be identical to Jean-Luc.  How do you tell the difference?  Technically weren't they both Captain Jean-Luc Picard?  'Oh God.  I've got to be the one to tell him what happened.'

 

                As she made her way across the cargo bay to where Picard was standing, she noticed the Alternate Picard watching her.  She blushed when she noticed the suggestive smile that slowly spread across his face.  Then security led him out.  She came up behind Picard.

 

                "Jean-Luc, We need to talk," she said softly.

 

                "Are you all right?" Picard asked, his tone was coolly polite as he turned to her.

 

                "Yes, but..." she started.

 

                "Later," came the curt response.

 

                "I really think we need to talk, alone," she tried again.

 

                "I'm busy," Picard was sounding colder by the minute.

 

                "I realize that.  However, it is important that I talk to you alone," Vash tried a third time.  How could she get him to understand?

 

                "There is absolutely nothing for us to discuss, Vash," his tone held a cold finality.  He turned back to his officers.

 

                Data walked into the cargo bay and approached Picard, "Sir, maintenance has completed the repairs to the damaged cabinet door in your quarters."

 

                "What damaged cabinet door?" Vash was confused.

 

                "The captain was being held in a storage cabinet in his quarters.  Fortunately the decorative slats allowed him plenty of air; however, the door to the cabinet was damaged when Commander Riker and Lieutenant Commander Worf retrieved him," Data explained to Vash.  He was very relieved to see that the impostor had not hurt her.

 

                "Could he also see out these slats?"  She felt sick as the realization hit her.  Jean-Luc had been there the whole time.

 

                Data looked somewhat surprised at her query. "Of course," he replied.  His face twisted with consternation as he realized that she was quite upset.  He lowered his voice, "Vash, are you all right?"

 

                Vash didn't hear Data's concerned question.  She felt rage overtake her.  Jean-Luc knows!  He knows exactly why I want to talk to him.  Vash was fuming.  He just doesn't want to deal with me.  Well that's just too damn bad.  How dare he put me off just because his precious male ego is wounded.  Well, you arrogant Parisian bastard, take this!

 

                "Picard, you arrogant son-of-a-bitch!"  Vash's voice reverberated off the walls of the cargo bay, as Riker, Worf and Data stood in stunned silence.  Picard stood there, his face a stoic mask.  Vash glared at him, shooting daggers with her eyes.

 

                Riker looked at Worf and silently mouthed "Retreat."  Worf nodded.  Riker grabbed Data's arm and the three of them left, quickly.

 

                As they moved to the door, Data turned to Riker and asked, "Is that what is meant by the line, 'hell hath no fury,' Commander?"

 

                Riker quietly hissed, "Later, Data."

 

                As the door to the cargo bay slid shut behind them, Vash launched back into her tirade.

 

                "You knew exactly why I desperately wanted to talk to you.  Dear God, you saw everything!  What's wrong, is your aristocratic nose out of joint because you're afraid that he was better than you?  Just tell me how the hell I supposed to know it wasn't you."  Vash took a deep breath.  She was now standing directly in front of him, toe to toe and glaring into his face.

 

                Picard broke his stony silence, "That wasn't necessary," he stated coldly.

 

                "I thought it was," Vash retorted. "Now that I've got your attention, please explain why I'm getting the cold shoulder treatment from you."

 

                "You should have realized something was amiss."  Picard was angry.  He was angry at her for not knowing.  He was angry at himself for feeling this way.  She was right, his nose was out of joint.  He preferred to believe that he was infinitely more civilized than his alternate.  That she could be that intimate with his alternate and not know the difference made him wonder if he was really enough for her.

 

                "So, you're angry with me for unknowingly betraying you with a man who is essentially you.  Jean-Luc, do you have any idea just how demented this whole thing sounds.  Tell me, could Riker or anyone else on your precious ship tell the difference?" she demanded.

 

                "No, but I'm not sleeping with Will Riker," he countered angrily.  Still, he could not help noticing how beautiful she was, and it just made the whole mess more painful for him.

 

                "Well, Will and I now have one more thing in common," she shot back.  "You think I'm to blame because I should have realized that it wasn't you.  Has it occurred to you, Captain, that I'm the victim here?  Do you even care how I feel about all of this?"  With that, Vash turned on her heal, her skirt swirling around her, and stalked out of the cargo bay.

 

                The door of the cargo bay shut behind her, leaving Picard alone.

 

                "It should have been me!" he shouted as he slammed his fist into one of the crates.  He wanted to blame his alternate, but he couldn't help feeling that he was somehow responsible for letting this happen.  But how could she have let   . .   The image of the Alternate Picard with Vash was all that he could think of.  He knew that logically neither Vash nor himself was really to blame.  He knew where the blame should go, but that didn't seem to matter right now.

 

..............................................

 

                Vash strode through the corridors in a blind rage.  To hell with him, to hell with both of him.  Granted, things had been different last night.   Did Jean-Luc really expect her to guess that she was with not him, but with a genetically identical impostor from only one night of mind-blowing, spine-tingling, heart-stopping sex?  How exactly was she supposed to make that leap?  How dare the alternate dupe her like that.  Even though the sex had been thrilling, it still didn't change the fact that the alternate had fooled her.  She hated being taken for a fool, and it didn't happen often.  She didn't even know this man.  He must have been aware that she thought he was Jean-Luc.  Jean-Luc saw everything, he must have been aware that she thought it was him.

 

                Then the realization hit her.  Oh God, he saw everything, every last thing.  How could he just watch silently?  He knew, why didn't he do something?  Well gentlemen, I hope the two of you enjoyed the show!  She had never felt so brokenhearted.  She had fallen in love with Jean-Luc. That was part of the reason she had gone with Q to the gamma quadrant.  She had been running away from her feelings for Picard.  But the old 'out of sight out of mind' theory had not worked and she had come back.  To what?  One minute she was in bed with the man she loved, the next he was as cold as ice telling her she should have known she was with an identical impostor.  She fought the tears that were stinging her eyes.  Then she heard the yowl and she almost fell as she nearly stepped on a rather indignant furball.  Vash stopped in her tracks and looked down, startled.  Looking up at her was a small orange cat.

 

                "Hello there," Vash spoke with a gentle voice as she kneeled down and held out a hand to the small animal.  "Don't be afraid.  I won't hurt you."

 

                The tabby sniffed at her hand, then, apparently deciding she was a new toy to play with, walked underneath her hand in an age-old 'scratch my back, now' gesture.  Vash tenderly picked the cat up to cradle it in her arms.  The cat purred loudly and rubbed its head up against Vash's chin.  Vash's mood lifted a little and she cooed at the animal.  "Aw, thank you, I really needed that.  You're a pretty little kitty.  But I don't think you're supposed to be touring the ship on your own."

 

                She gently turned the cat's collar to see its name tag.  "So tabby, what is your name and who do you belong to?"  Vash read the tag and couldn't help but laugh.  "This says that you are named Spot.  Why would Commander Data give such a silly name to such a beautiful little lady.  Well, I guess I should take you home."

 

                Vash cuddled with Spot as she made her way to Data's quarters.  She rang the door chime.

 

                "Come," Data's voice was muffled and sounded somewhat worried

 

                Vash walked in and, after looking around for a moment, smiled slightly as she saw Data kneeling on the floor, looking under his bed.  "Is this who you're looking for?"

 

                Data jerked up, hitting his head on the bed when he heard her voice.  He sat up and looked over to see Vash standing in the doorway holding Spot.  Data was grateful that Spot had been found and also pleased that Vash was the one who had found Spot.  Spot was still purring loudly and rubbing up against Vash's chin and neck.  "Yes.  Please come in.  I did not realize that she had escaped from our quarters again.  Thank you for bringing her home."

 

                Vash sighed heavily as she nuzzled the cat.  The sadness in her voice was striking compared to the lighthearted tone of this morning.   "Actually, I should thank you.  Spot helped to brighten what was a rather dismal afternoon.  I love cats.  They have a very calming effect."  Giving Spot one last hug, she let the cat down.

 

                "I am glad that Spot could help.  I have found that felines can indeed be quite relaxing.  Spot, however, seems intent on causing me as much stress as possible with these little forays of hers.  She has taken to roaming the ship ever since the birth of her second litter of kittens," Data explained as he reached down to stroke Spot's fur.

 

                "Kittens?   May I see them?" Vash asked.

 

                "Of course, they are over here."  Data led her to a box sitting on the floor next to his desk.  He was sure that whatever had upset her must have had something to do with the scene between her and the captain earlier.  He wanted to make her feel better, he wanted to do something to rectify the situation if he could.  He smiled as he saw her face light up at the sight of the kittens   "They will be ready to leave their mother in just a few more days."

 

                "They are so cute!  May I hold one?" she looked up at Data hopefully.

 

                "Yes, of course."  Data looked into her wide, beautiful blue eyes and wondered how anyone could say no to her.  They sat down on the floor next to a box of six kittens.  Vash picked up a kitten that was all black, except for a splash of white on its chest.

 

                "Who is this?" she asked as she cuddled the purring kitten.

 

                "That is Charcoal," Data supplied the kitten's name.  Then his voice became gentle.  He was not exactly certain how to broach whatever was bothering her.  "You said you were upset when you found Spot.  Is it anything I can assist you with?"

 

                Vash looked over at Data's concerned expression and softly asked, "Data, is that your not-so-subtle way of finding out if I'm okay after a very obvious disagreement with Captain Picard?"

 

                Data nodded and added, "I have been concerned about you since I left the two of you in the cargo bay.  You seemed . . . somewhat distraught."

 

                Vash looked down at the kitten she was holding as she spoke. She couldn't keep the pain out of her voice.  "I was very hurt and very angry.  I probably said some things that I shouldn't have.  See, I went to see Jean-Luc last night after the reception.  I didn't know that it wasn't Jean-Luc and, the impostor and I, well . . ."

 

                Vash tried to think of how she wanted to put this.  "I was fooled by the impostor.  In the cargo bay, I wanted to talk to Jean-Luc privately, so that I could tell him what had happened. He just gave me the cold shoulder.  Then I found out he had been there all along and did nothing to warn me.  On top of all that, he blames me for not being able to tell the difference."

 

                Data could tell from the way she spoke that Vash still cared very deeply for the captain.  The reactions of the three people in the captain's quarters the night before led Data to surmise that the impostor had seduced Vash last night.  This was, of course, complete conjecture on Data's part, but why did the idea cause such an intense emotional response?  That theory would explain Vash's hurt feelings.  What Data didn't understand was the captain's irrational behavior.  Captain Picard was aware that there was no physical way to tell the difference between himself and the alternate.  Genetically, they were both Jean-Luc Picard. However, he could at least clear up one misunderstanding.

 

                "Vash, the captain was physically incapable of warning you. The alternate had used some form of a neural inhibitor to completely paralyze the captain.  He could do nothing but watch anything that happened."

 

                "Oh my God, I had no idea.  Is he all right?"  Vash looked up at Data, concern for Picard overwhelming her hurt feelings.

 

                "Dr. Crusher has said that he should suffer no residual effects," Data reassured her.

 

                Vash looked back down at the cat.  "Jean-Luc must hate me," her voice was hushed.  Her face was filled with pain and regret.  She stood up and paced the room, still holding the kitten.  "Data, I really had no idea it wasn't him.  He was so angry with me for not knowing.  Jean-Luc said I should have known that something was amiss.  Was there something I missed?  Should I have known?"

 

                "Vash, there was no possible way you could have known the difference.  The impostor is Jean-Luc Picard from an alternate universe.  Whatever happened, you are not to blame," Data told her firmly, as he stood to face her.  He gave her a reassuring smile.  "If you would like, you may have Charcoal when she is ready to leave Spot next week."

 

                Vash smiled at Data as she handed the kitten back to him. "I would love to have her.  Thank you, Data."  She blinked back the tears that were welling up in her eyes.  "You are a gentleman in every sense of the word."  Afraid that she would burst into tears, Vash turned and ran out of the room.

 

                Data carefully put Vash's kitten back down in the box.  The captain knew this was not her fault.  She obviously still cared for him a great deal.  The captain was so lucky to have such a beautiful lady care for him so strongly.  How could the captain hurt her that way?  Vash was right, the captain was acting like an arrogant son-of-a-bitch.  He had no right to treat her like that, even if he was Captain Jean-Luc Picard.  Data decided he was going to let his commanding officer know that.  The only question was how to do it without getting busted back to ensign.

 

....................................................

 

                Picard moved through the corridors with quick, angry strides.  His usually polite, impassive expression was now that of an enraged bull.  She had called him a arrogant son-of-a-bitch.  How dare she talk to him that way onboard his ship and right in front of his officers.  That prima donna actually had the nerve to imply that he was worried about his own performance in the bedroom.  Not bloody likely.  How could she not tell the difference between his love-making and the manhandling of that savage brute?  His mind kept replaying the entire abominable scene.  Picard, by nature, was not a jealous or possessive man. But the memory of Vash's red evening gown sliding down her shapely silhouette to land on the floor around her feet, and her passionate responses that night filled Picard with a blind rage.

 

                Without realizing where he was going, he suddenly found himself standing face-to-face with his alternate.  Picard didn't have the slightest idea why he had gone there; this was the last place he should have gone.  He had decided to leave this matter up to Riker and Worf, a personal confrontation was not the behavior of a Starfleet captain.  The Alternate Picard had a smug smile on his face as he casually leaned against the wall of his cell.

 

                "So, Captain, how is that playful, sexy, little mattress kitten of ours?" the alternate taunted.  "I hope she isn't in too much discomfort.  I gave her quite a workout; but, of course, you already know that."

 

                "I can only assume you are referring to Archaeology Council Member Vash," Picard stated, both his face and voice as cold and hard as stone.

 

                "Indeed, unless you've managed to get Dr. Crusher and Vash to play nicely together in bed.  I never could.  Neither of them were ever very good at sharing," the alternate sounded casual, as if he was joking with a close friend.

 

                "I didn't come here to discuss Vash."

 

                "Of course you did,"  the alternate mocked him.  "I'm you, remember.  I know what the mere thought of that magnificent creature does to you   That red dress, what there was of it, certainly showed off our little vamp's sultry figure.  I'm not sure what that dress accented more, her perfect breasts or her perfect legs.  What an objet d'art.  I do love those legs!  As I see it, you had the perfect opportunity at the reception to procure her favors for yourself."

 

                The Alternate Picard watched as Picard struggled to maintain his composure.  The alternate decided to push Picard even further.  "You could have easily gone to her quarters for the night, I would never have known she was here.  She was obviously quite willing.  You don't even have the nerve to take possession of the one thing you really want.  She was practically giving you an engraved invitation.  However, veni, vidi, vici.  It's driving you mad that it was me who responded to that come-hither invitation and had her clawing at the sheets all night.  She really does turn into a tigress when you nibble at that little birthmark.  The third time I took her she actually drew blood with those long fingernails of hers.  Even you have to admit, she really is a great --"

 

                "Enough!  You don't have the privilege to call yourself a man.  Nor do you have capacity to appreciate the company of a lady who is a pearl of such great price," Picard's voice thundered in the confines of the brig.  His anger exploded.  How dare that barbarian talk about Vash in such a vulgar manner.  The only thing keeping him from killing this animal was the force field.  Since her birthmark was located four inches straight below her navel, there was only one thing that swine could have been doing to nibble on it.  The thought nearly made him lose his legendary control over himself.  "Stay away from Vash or I'll kill you!"

 

                "My, my, Captain, would you actually kill for her," the alternate sneered back at Picard.  He seemed amused.

 

                Would I?  Picard wondered.  He flashed back to Q's little Robin Hood adventure.  He thought of Sir Guy's lifeless body sliding off the blade of his broad sword.  A sense of calm flooded over him.  Picard looked his alternate in the eye with a cold, calculated smile.

 

                "I already have," came his even response.  Then he turned and left the brig.

 

                As he watched Picard leave, the alternate felt the first twinge of fear.  Had he pushed this Picard too far?  Quickly recovering his composure, he said in soft whisper, "Touché Captain, I didn't think you had it in you."

 

.....................................

 

                Vash stormed around her quarters cleaning furiously.  'The nerve of that arrogant, self-important, French jackass,'  she thought to herself as she reached for another tissue.  She never cried; she hated to cry.  She especially hated the fact that she was crying over him.   No one was going to see her cry over him, that was for sure.  Her door chime rang.  She really didn't want to see anyone right now.

 

                "Oh, go away!" came her exasperated response.

 

                "Vash,  It's Will.  It's really important I talk to you."

 

                "All right, come in."

 

                Riker walked into her quarters, he noticed there were a number of impressive artifacts from all over the galaxy set out for display.  Then he noticed her, standing in the middle of her quarters with a tissue balled up in her hand.  He hated the fact that he had to question her right now, but finding out what the impostor was up to was imperative and she might be able to help. "I'm sorry to intrude, I really need to ask you some questions."

 

                "It's all right, Will.  Of course, I'll try to help in any way I can."  There was a catch in her voice as she answered.  He could tell that things were definitely not all right.

 

                "Vash," he took her arm and gently sat her down on the couch, taking a seat in the chair facing her.  "I was remembering your reaction in the cargo bay earlier.  Did you see the captain last night after the reception?"

 

                "Yes," her response sounded very shaky.  She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath.  "I went to his quarters after the reception.  I wanted to clear up a little misunderstanding we had at the party."

 

                "Vash,  This is really important.  I need to know exactly what was said.  The smallest thing could be a clue to what he's doing here."  Riker hated to press her but he needed her help.

 

                She smiled humorlessly, "Will, there wasn't any talking going on.  Because of that,  Jean-Luc will probably never speak to me ever again."

 

                "What?" came the stunned reply.

 

                "I slept with the impostor."  Her stoic expression could not hide the hurt and confusion that were so evident in her voice. "I went in and the impostor swept me into his arms and made love to me.  I thought it was Jean-Luc.  I didn't know.  How could I have known?"

 

                She looked so lost.   Riker moved to sit beside her on the couch.  Speaking in a calm voice, he tried to reassure her.  "Of course you didn't know.  No one knew anything was wrong until we discovered the captain while investigating some anomalous readings originating in his quarters.  You were an innocent victim.  It's not your fault, Vash."

 

                "Jean-Luc doesn't seem to see it that way.  He seems to think I should have known.  That by not knowing, I've betrayed him."  She stood and said apologetically, "I've haven't been much help.  I'm sorry, Will, I realize you're just trying to do your job.  Thank you for the shoulder."

 

                He stood and smiled down at her.  "It's all a part of the service."  He started to leave, then turned around and gently added "The captain is a proud man, Vash, but he is also fair. Give him some time to calm down.  I'm sure he'll realize that you are in no way to blame for any of this."  Then he left.

 

...........................................

 

                Riker entered the turbolift.  He had spent the last few hours questioning everyone who had come in contact with the captain's alternate.  He had saved the captain for last and, according to the crew, Picard had been in a royal snit all day.

 

                "Bridge."

 

                He still was no closer to finding out what the alternate had been up to than when he started.  That meant he would have to talk to Picard about the time both of them had been in Picard's quarters last night.  After talking to Vash, Riker really wasn't looking forward to questioning the captain.  He had read the captain's log concerning the incident but he needed to talk to the captain directly.  His commanding officer was not exactly going to be in a very talkative mood.  Riker was well aware that Picard cared very deeply for Vash.   Q's little Robin Hood game as well as the captain's reaction to Vash's appearance at the reception proved that.  He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be forced to watch helplessly as the woman you love was seduced right in front of you.  From Vash's emotional state, Riker was fairly certain that the scene in the cargo bay between Vash and the captain had been pretty nasty.  A small smile crossed his face.  He had seen commanders of Romulan Warbirds quake at Picard's name, but there stood this young petite brunette calling the captain of Starfleet's flagship an arrogant son-of-a-bitch right on his own ship.  Riker wondered if anyone had ever dared to talk that way to Picard before.  She was a perfect match for the captain; he hoped they could patch things up.

 

                The doors slid open and he stepped out onto the bridge.  Picard was nowhere to be seen which meant he was probably in his ready room.   Riker walked over to the door, adjusted his uniform and thought to himself, 'Into the jaws of death rode the six hundred . . .'  Like a man about to face a firing squad, he rang the door chime.

 

                "Come," came the expected, if harsh-sounding, reply.

 

                Riker walked into the ready room and stood somewhat stiffly in front of Picard's desk.

 

                Picard laid down the PADD he was working on, and looked up at his first officer.

 

                "Yes, Number one?"

 

                "Sir, I have contacted Planitia about the impostor.  They have instigated a search to see what he accessed and will report that to us as soon as possible.  It may take awhile, they report that Commander Kerrgan is missing.  They are now doing an extensive search of the shipyard.  I have also questioned everyone onboard who had any contact with the impostor, except one.  We do know that he questioned Commander LaForge about the location of the ship's schematics.  That tells us that his mission involves this ship, other than that we're still investigating.  Of course, the report from Planitia may tell us more about what he's after."

 

                "I take it, Number One, that Vash was your one exception."

 

                "No, sir.  The one exception was you."

 

                "Unfortunately, Number One, I have no useful information to give you."

 

                "Sir,"  Riker hesitated.  He was definitely on thin ice here. "Sir, anything you could tell me about last night might help."

 

                "As I said, I have no useful information.  My alternate was not in a talkative mood."  Picard's icy tone dropped the temperature in the room ten degrees.

 

                'So I've heard,' thought Riker.

 

                "Is there anything further, Number One."  Picard was not-so-subtly dismissing Riker.

 

                "No sir."  Just before Riker reached the door, he turned back around,  "This impostor was well-prepared.  It would have been impossible for anyone to tell that it wasn't you."

 

                Riker could tell by the expression on Picard's face that Picard knew he was referring to Vash.

 

                "Dismissed, Commander," the cold finality of Picard's tone brooked no arguments.

 

                "Yes, sir."  Riker beat a hasty retreat from the office.  As he left he wondered how much longer any of them could stand Picard's current mood.  He could only hope, for everyone's sake, that his captain and Vash kissed and made up soon.

 

                Outside Picard's ready room, Riker breathed a sigh of relief.  He needed a drink.  As he passed Data exiting the turbolift, he stopped to comment.  "Some days you get the bear, some days the bear bites your head off,"  the first officer muttered.  "I'll be in Ten Forward."

 

                Data nodded.  He clutched his leather-bound copy of Shakespeare's complete works in his left hand.  He wondered if this was the best time for this.  Deciding that, in Picard's present mood, there was no best time, he rang the door chime.

 

                "Come," the curt reply beckoned.

 

                Data stepped through the doorway.  Captain Picard was standing next to his window, moodily surveying the Planitia shipyard, his arms crossed.  He did not look at the android.

 

                "Sir," Data began slowly, "I was wondering if perhaps you had a moment?  I have been reviewing the works of Shakespeare recently.  I have found that the emotion chip has greatly broadened my appreciation for them.  However, I have am still puzzled by the actions of many characters."

 

                Picard turned, perhaps a diversion was just the thing to get his mind off of certain matters.  "Shakespeare, you say?  'To be or not to be, that is the question.'  Certainly, Data, what are your questions?"

 

                Data decided to simply leap in, head first.  "Well, sir, for instance, the character of Othello baffles me.  While I understand that Othello was deceived, I am uncertain of the motivation for his subsequent actions."

 

                *Othello*, somehow discussing a man who killed his wife in a jealous rage did not seem to be the diversion he had hoped for from his present concerns.  "Well, Data, that is exactly the point of the play.  Othello's reaction to the deception was his undoing."  He walked over to the replicator.  He gestured to Data then turned to the machine.  "Two Earl Greys, hot."

 

                Picard offered a cup of the tea to the android and then sat down behind his desk.  "You see, Data, Shakespeare was attempting to recreate the emotions of jealousy, rage, and distrust in the characters of that particular play.  You know for yourself how quickly the mind can be numbed by such powerful feelings."

 

                "I understand, sir.  However, the act of murder does not directly follow from the information presented to Othello at the time.  All of the evidence presented to him was either circumstantial in nature or completely fabricated.  He had no reason to feel threatened.  At no point in time did Desdemona even entertain thoughts of that which she was accused of doing."

 

                Picard drank deeply while he thought for a moment.  He was beginning to feel defensive.  "I disagree completely.  It doesn't matter whether or not Desdemona actually did what Iago had claimed.  The point of the play was the insecurity of committing yourself so totally to another human being.  In Othello's eyes everything that was himself, his entire being, was in jeopardy, his life, his honor, his fortune and not the least  his wife. Also, you need to keep in mind his point of view.  He was a commander of men.  Iago was his right hand man, he entrusted his life to Iago, he had no reason to disbelieve him."

 

                Data sipped the tea.  Although he found the taste of Earl Grey bitter, the captain was under the impression that he loved it.  The android had no intention of having him believe otherwise.  He continued the dialogue. "But, sir, if he indeed loved this woman as much as he claims, why would he doubt her? It seems to me that the real problem Othello had was hubris."

 

                Picard frowned.  "Hubris?  In what way?"

 

                "He believed that he knew all.  Rather than considering alternative explanations for the observed behavior, he made conclusions that eventually led to his demise."

 

                "Mr. Data,"  Picard stood.  "I have always read Othello as a sympathetic character absorbed by passions gone awry.  You paint a very different figure.  Your version is much colder, more distant.  He seems much more in control than I have ever considered."

 

                The captain stood silent for a moment.  He was shocked as he realized Data's ploy.  The Othello presented by Data was very similar to himself.  Vash's pleas had fallen on deaf ears with him, much as Desdemona's pleas had gone unacknowledged by Othello.  Apparently the android had mastered the art of subterfuge much more quickly than anticipated.  Very clever. "Your insights are numerous, Mr. Data, very thought-provoking." he smiled, "Is there anything else?  I believe I need to have a conversation that is long overdue."

 

                "Well, sir, briefly.  I was also thinking of another piece of literature that is applicable here.  Perhaps you are familiar with the story of *Old Yeller?"

 

                Picard looked puzzled.  "*Old Yeller*?  Isn't that a story about a boy and a dog?"

 

                "Yes, sir.  The dog, Old Yeller, became mad, barking and snapping at everyone in sight," explained Data.

 

                "Yes, yes, I am aware of that.  The dog became infected with rabies."  Picard could still not see a parallel with their previous discussion.

 

                "Well, I would simply like to point out, sir, that in the end of the book, they shot Old Yeller."  With that parting shot, Data made a dignified, if hasty, retreat from Picard's ready room.

 

                Inside the ready room, Picard stood there by his desk, looking slightly stunned.

 

.....................................................

 

                "Where is Alexander?"

 

                "He's staying overnight with a friend."

 

                Worf and Deanna were having dinner in Worf's quarters.  The lighting was low, soft music was playing in the background, and a variety of Klingon and Betazed delicacies were spread on the table between them.  They were slowly introducing each other to their unique customs and traditions.  Deanna had explained the purpose of the chime during Betazed meals but had not used it because 'it was damned annoying.'

 

                "What did you say this was called again?"  Deanna eyed the wriggling gelatin mass before her with suspicion.  People ate this?

 

                "Gagh, it's a delicacy.  Here try some."  Worf held a fork covered with the wriggling creatures.

Deanna thought about that offer long and hard.  Exactly how much did she love this man?  After deciding that he was worth it, she closed her eyes and took a small bite of the live concoction.

 

                "Not . . . bad."  Not chocolate, but surprisingly edible.  In small bites and very rarely, of course.

 

                The look on Worf's face made the aftertaste almost worthwhile.  He smiled in satisfaction and took a large bite for himself.

 

                "This pie is very good, Worf.  Do I want to know what's in it?"

 

                "Probably not.  It's called Rokeg blood pie.  My human mother learned to make it for me when I was a child.  I'm sure she would send you her recipe if you asked."

 

                "Blood pie.  You were right.  I don't want to know.  By the way  I talked to Mother earlier today."

 

                Worf braced himself.  He could never be sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.  Sometimes their talks went well and Deanna was happy afterward.  Sometimes their talks didn't go so well and Deanna was . . . less than happy.

 

                "Mother wanted to know if you would be able to hear thoughts in time for the wedding.  I told her I wasn't sure.  Alexander has caught on very quickly.  Mother was very impressed with him last time he visited her."  Deanna had broached the subject of his learning to hear her thoughts many times and in many different ways.  Worf was still very reluctant to learn and she didn't understand why.

 

                "Why would your mother assume that I was learning to hear thoughts?"

 

                "Because she naturally assumed that, as my husband, you would want the added intimacy of sharing our thoughts."  Deanna could feel Worf becoming very defensive.  She probably ought to drop the subject but she was suddenly tired of dancing around certain issues because of some machoistic code of honor.

 

                "Well, I don't," he responded.

 

                "Why not?"

 

                "I don't want to."

 

                Deanna felt herself growing very annoyed.  Aside from Will Riker and her mother, Worf was the only being who was able to set her off this quickly.  After all the compromises she had made, she could even speak some Klingonese now, he still hadn't made one single solitary compromise for her.  She had absolutely had it!

 

                "Why not?  I've learned to speak Klingonese for you."

 

                "That's not the same thing.  Klingonese is a language.  You speak it."

 

                "Well what about this?"  Deanna stood up, pushed her chair back, and gestured angrily at the table.

 

                Worf stood up and glared back at her in his most intimidating manner.

 

                "What about what?" he growled menacingly at her.

 

                "Don't you growl at me you overgrown excuse for a guard dog. I mean this dinner.  I have at least tried a bite of every Klingon dish here, most of which involve live creatures.  You have not even tried one bite of any Betazed dishes,"  Deanna huffed and put her hands on her hips.

 

                "They're too bland.  Klingon food is real food.  That stuff is baby food."  Worf couldn't understand what she was getting so upset about.  Her mother.  Her talk with Lwaxana must not have gone well.  "What did your mother say to you this afternoon?"

 

                "Leave my mother out of this.  You haven't even tried the food.  How do you know it's bland?"  Deanna's eyes were blazing as she regarded the infuriatingly calm Klingon before her.

 

                "I just know.  And your mother is the cause of this so why should she be left out?"

 

                "My mother? MY MOTHER!  How dare you bring my mother into this.  This is about compromise.  Oh, I forgot, there is no such word in the Klingon language.  Compromise means I try something of yours, and you try something of mine.  That means my food, my customs, my lifestyle.  If we're going to mesh our cultures together, we both need to work at this.  I'm the only one who's been giving around here.  Let me tell you something, a give-and-take relationship does not mean I give and you take.  You immature, insensitive, selfish brute!  You still won't even talk to me about changing the furnishings in here after I move in."

 

                "Change what?  It's livable."  Worf looked around his quarters.  His bat'telh was hanging on the wall, he had traditional Klingon artifacts scattered throughout the quarters. By Klingon warrior standards, it was quite luxurious.

 

                "Because if you think I'm going to sleep on that shelf you call a bed for the rest of my life, you have another think coming.  And as for the rest of this incredibly depressive decor, some pastel wall hangings and flower arrangements will liven this place up nicely.  If you don't want to discuss it with me, I'll just do it myself, my way.  And what about our wedding.  I compromised.  I understood that you were uncomfortable being nude at the wedding so you don't have to be-"

 

                "I don't want anyone naked at our wedding,"  Worf growled back.

 

                Deanna hit another octave.  "That's exactly what I'm talking about.  You have no respect for my customs or my traditions.  It's all about your customs and your traditions.  Well I have news for you, Betazeds evolved long before you stopped dragging your knuckles when you walked.  Our customs and rituals are beautiful expressions of our culture and evolution.  How can I believe that you have respect for me when you don't even respect what I believe in?"

 

                Worf started to reassure her that he had a great deal of respect for her but Deanna cut him off before he got a word in edgewise.

 

                "Shut up!  Don't interrupt me when I'm talking to you.  Do you think I'm talking just to hear myself talk?   Answer me!" Deanna finally had to stop to breathe.  Which she did in great, gasping breaths as she glared daggers across the room at Worf. Worf, for his part had moved away from her and was standing against the far wall of his quarters wondering what he should do or say at this point.

 

                Deanna geared herself up to launch into another tirade but couldn't think of the words to say.  She started to send her thoughts to him but remembered that she couldn't because the hulking beast refused to learn even that about her people.  In frustration she picked up the plate of gagh and hurled it at him. With his warrior reflexes, Worf quickly moved out of harm's way. The plate's rim embedded itself into the wall of his quarters, right where his head had been just seconds before.  As he stood there, open-mouthed, staring at the plate of dripping worms sticking straight out of the wall, Deanna sent a parting shot:

 

                "Captain Picard isn't the only arrogant son-of-a-bitch on this ship."

 

                With an angry toss of her hair, Deanna stormed out of the quarters and off to find some chocolate.

 

                Worf stood there, looking from the plate to the door and back again.  'Damn, some woman,' he supposed she wouldn't be in the mood for mating tonight.

 

.......................................................

 

                Will Riker looked very pleased as he swept the poker chips from the middle of the table toward himself.  Around the table, Beverly, Geordi, Data, and Guinan all shook their heads.

 

                "I can't believe he took that with only two pairs.  I had a flush.  How does he do it?  Why play?  He almost always wins," Geordi lamented as he sat back in his chair.  He had just fallen for one of Will's famous bluffs during their weekly poker game.

 

                "That's why I really enjoy watching him lose to Jean-Luc." Beverly turned to smile at Will.  "You just haven't figured out how to bluff the captain, have you Will?  He can read you like a book.  Remember last week when Jean-Luc bluffed you into folding with a straight flush.  The captain had only two of a kind.  I thought I was going to see a grown man cry."

 

                "Where is the captain this evening?  I figured he would be here," Guinan asked.

 

                "You haven't seen him today, have you."  Riker was making a statement of fact rather than asking a question.

 

                "No, why?" Guinan seemed confused.

 

                "He's in just a wee bit of a snit," Geordi shook his head.

 

                "And that is just a wee bit of an understatement," Riker sighed,  "remember, the captain could only watch as the impostor took his place.  It must have been very frustrating.  He's been very concerned about any actions the impostor took before being discovered."

 

                "This is just a guess," Geordi ventured,  "But could the captain's mood have anything to do with this other guy's actions towards a certain lovely brunette in a red evening gown?"

 

                "It's been a long time, are you sure they're still interested in each other?" Beverly asked.

 

                "Didn't you notice his reaction when she walked in Ten-Forward?  Oh, he's interested."  Geordi tapped on his visor with a forefinger.  "From what I could see with my visor, his metabolic rates skyrocketed when he saw her.  Of course, so did Will's."

 

                "Geordi's right.  His eyes never left her," Riker agreed, then, in defense of himself.  "As far as my reaction, she is an attractive lady."

 

                "Now that is a wee bit of an understatement!"  Geordi smiled.  He hesitated for a moment, then decided to continue on. "The rumor is that Vash went to see the captain last night in his quarters after the ceremonies.  That means she saw the impostor.  It also means the captain saw her see the impostor.  Depending on how far things went, it would explain his mood."  Geordi looked at Riker for confirmation.

 

                "I'm not going to touch that for all the gold-pressed latinum in the quadrant," Riker muttered as he held up his hands and leaned back away from the table.

 

                "At least tell me about the scene in the cargo bay this afternoon.  Did she really call him a son-of-a-bitch?"  Geordi just had to know.  He couldn't imagine anyone saying that to Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise.

 

                "Actually, her precise words were: 'Picard, you arrogant son-of-a-bitch'," Data chimed in helpfully.

 

                Beverly couldn't contain herself, she collapsed into a fit of giggling.  Geordi chuckled and shook his head.  Guinan smiled.

 

                "Data!" Riker hissed.

 

                "Oh, come on Will," Beverly teased the first officer.  "I would have given a week's pay to witness that."

 

                "He probably deserved it.  And it was probably amusing," Guinan sounded pretty amused herself.

 

                "It was funny," Riker admitted with a small smile.  "All right very funny.  But that still doesn't solve the problem of the captain's present mood."

 

                "Don't worry Will.  She's the one, they'll work it out." Guinan had a calm smile on her face.

 

                Riker was about to ask Guinan how she knew that, when Data piped up again.

 

                "I am sure Guinan is right."

 

                "Data, how do you know that?"  Riker sounded exasperated.

 

                "The captain and I were having a discussion and he informed me that he had decided to engage in a conversation with Councilmember Vash," Data was his usual matter-of-fact self.

 

                "I couldn't even get near that particular topic with him. What in the hell were you discussing?"  Riker ran his hand through his hair.  He sounded very tired.

 

                "Literature," came the perfunctory response.

 

                "What literature?" Riker felt as if he was pulling teeth.

 

                "*Othello* and *Old Yeller*."

 

                "*Othello*?  Oh my God!  Data, did you realize what you were implying?"  Geordi couldn't believe his ears.

 

                "Of course, Geordi.  I may not have a complete understanding of emotions at this point, but I can add the emotional two plus two and come up with four.  However, it did take the captain by surprise when he realized that I had done it intentionally," Data looked rather pleased with himself.

 

                Riker looked up at Data and smiled.  "The reference to *Othello* is obvious.  But *Old Yeller*?"

 

                "I was merely pointing out the similarities in temperament. I also pointed out to the captain that," he smiled even wider, "in the end of the story, they shot old yeller."

 

                "That's working without a net."  Riker could hardly believe what he just heard.  "I guess as long as the captain and Vash kiss and make up, it was worth it."

 

                "They would make a handsome couple.  I think they're well-suited to each other," Beverly added almost gleefully.

 

                Riker smiled at the thought of the incident in the cargo bay.  "She certainly is perfect for him.  She can definitely go toe to toe with him, that's for sure."

 

                "I think they would be happy together.  That's the least the captain deserves," Geordi smiled and then added, "Besides think of the sheer entertainment value."

 

                "Speaking of happy couples, where is Worf and Deanna?" Beverly asked.

 

                "I passed Mr. Worf's quarters on the way here.   I happened to notice that the counselor and he were having a rather heated debate."  Data was just a wealth of information.

 

                "I hope Deanna is all right," Geordi's voice sounded worried.

 

                Riker chuckled.  "Deanna is fine.  However, Mr. Worf might be in mortal danger."  He began to deal the next hand.

 

...............................................

 

                At that moment, Mr. Worf stood outside the door to Deanna's quarters.  All of his warrior training failed him when he reached to ring her door chime.  That she was mad at him was obvious, why she was angry was not so obvious.  A box of her favorite chocolates was gripped tightly in one hand.  He braced himself and rang the chime.

 

                "Go away," came the muffled response from inside the quarters.

 

                "Deanna, it's me."  Worf wasn't exactly sure what to say.

 

                "Go away."

 

                "Let me in.  I want to talk to you."  He was the security chief, it wasn't as if he couldn't force his way in.  Somehow he figured that would not be the right way to handle this, however.

 

                "Oh, all right.  Come in," Deanna decided that if she didn't let him in, he would stand out there all night, talking to her door.  She didn't need half the crew listening to the details of their relationship.

 

                Worf entered the room very slowly.  Deanna was holding a glass of some sort of chocolate confection and standing in a far corner of the main room which she had obviously been pacing.  She had changed her clothes.  She was wearing a soft blue dressing gown that fell across her curves and down to barely brush the floor.

 

                "I was wrong.  You were right.  I'm sorry."  Worf didn't know what he was apologizing for, but maybe an apology would soothe her.  Riker had told him once, early in their relationship, that the only eight words he needed to know when dealing with Deanna were: 'I was wrong, You were right, I'm sorry'.  Hopefully, they would work now.

 

                "Oh, Worf," Deanna was on the verge of tears again.

 

                Worf walked over to her and gently removed the glass from her hand.  He set it out of harm's way--his harm's way--and replaced it with the box of chocolates he had brought for her.  He leaned down to brush his lips against hers.  He took the lid off the box and set it down.  He carefully selected a chocolate morsel and held it up to her lips in a gesture of peace.  She took the chocolate in her mouth and licked the remaining chocolate from his fingers.  She laid the box on the table beside them and moved into Worf's warm embrace.

 

                Deanna started to speak, but Worf placed two fingers against her full lips and shushed her.  He replaced his fingers with his lips in a deep, searching kiss.  Deanna pulled her head away from his and looked up into his dark brown eyes.

 

                "Would you at least try something Betazed, please?"

 

                "What do you think I'm doing now?"  Worf lowered his head to taste the softness of her neck.

 

                Deanna arched into his mouth.  Arguments forgotten, all she could think about was the mindless pleasure this man could bring her.  As his arms pulled her into his strong embrace, her hands found and removed the tie that bound his hair back.  Dropping the tie, she entwined her fingers into his long hair to bring his mouth back up to hers.

 

                Worf pulled back and looked down the length of her body.  He could see the outline of her nipples pressed against the flimsy fabric of her gown.

 

                "What are you wearing underneath this?" as he spoke, his hands were busily caressing her curves, trying to find out exactly what was underneath the dressing gown.

 

                "Why don't you find out for yourself," came Deanna's erotic invitation.

 

                At her suggestion, Worf dropped to his knees.  His hands found the bottom of her gown and slowly moved up under it.  As he went, his hands pushed the gown higher and higher on her body until he discovered that she was wearing nothing underneath. When he had pushed the gown to her waist, Deanna took over and quickly pulled the dressing gown over her head and dropped it to the floor.  Worf cupped her hips in his hands and began pressing urgent kisses to the smooth skin of her stomach.  Deanna gripped his head in her own hands and pulled his face closer to her. When his mouth moved lower, her knees almost buckled beneath her.  His tongue probed her deeply, the coarse sandpaper-like length scraping her, stoking the knot of desire.   He caressed, stroked, and possessed her with only his lips and tongue.  The sensations he was creating with his incredible mouth were overwhelming.  She moved her hips against him as she pulled his face even closer to her.  Finally, the knot burst and a shattering release shook her.  Worf gathered her into his arms and carried her off into the bedroom like a conquering warrior.

 

                In the bedroom, Worf placed Deanna in the center of her bed.  As he removed his clothes, Deanna's eyes raked down his Adonis-like form.  His broad, powerful shoulders offset his massive, bulging chest.  The expanse of his chest tapered down into a trim firm waist.  Corded muscles ran the length of his long, sinewy legs.   Joining her on the bed, he quickly set about rebuilding the fires in her.  Pressing her down into the bed with the weight of his body, his hands explored the length of her curvaceous form.  His fingers found her moist warmth, stroking and caressing her erotically as his tongue had just moments before.

 

                Deanna's hands moved feverishly about his massive back.  With every move, she could feel muscles ripple and strain beneath her hands.  Incredibly, she felt his thumb rubbing her as his fingers stroked and filled her.  Whimpering and pushing herself at his hand, her hips jerked as Worf brought her to another release.  Sliding her hands down his tight, muscular form, she pulled him in to settle between her thighs.  Deanna grabbed at an earlobe with her small, white teeth and pulled at it.

 

                Worf could feel the soft, smoothness of Deanna's thighs pressing into his own rough, hard thighs.  With his hands and his mouth, he explored her breasts with delightful thoroughness.  Worf could tell by her mindless whimpers and frantic movements, that Deanna could wait no longer.  When he finally drove himself far up into her waiting body, he could feel her body gripped with spasms of pleasure.  Without stopping, Worf continued to drive himself into her relentlessly. 

 

                When Worf finally abandoned his erotic torture, Deanna felt her body explode as he entered her.  He continued to drive into her and before the last of the spasms had even subsided, she felt another, even more intense release tear through her.  Arching her back, she could not contain the mindless scream that ripped from her throat.

 

                'My Worf,'  had she said that or only thought it?  Lost in the waves of pleasure consuming her body, she could only guess.

 

                Worf jerked with surprise when he heard Deanna's voice call to him in his head.  When her thought reached him, he could no longer hold himself in check.  With one final lunge, he allowed himself to be claimed by the shudders already threatening to overtake him.  Almost immediately, he rolled to the side to avoid crushing Deanna with his full body weight.  They lay there, side by side, feeling their racing hearts slow back to normal.

 

                "I heard you."  Worf was looking everywhere in the room but down at the beautiful woman next to him.

 

                "What?" Deanna sat up and looked down at Worf.

 

                "In my head, before, I heard you say 'my Worf'."  Worf sat up and took Deanna into his arms.  He nudged her head down to rest against his chest. "Is that what you've been trying to get me to learn?"

 

                "Yes.  Hearing my thoughts is the first step."  Deanna pulled away and smiled up at her mate and soon-to-be husband. "And with some work, learning to send me your thoughts."

 

                "How about another lesson?"  With that Worf drew Deanna back down and again pressed her into the softness of her mattress.

 

......................................................

 

                Geordi walked back to his quarters, bereft of poker chips.  'I must be a glutton for punishment', the engineer thought to himself.  After playing poker with Riker for more than five years, a person should know better.  He shook his head.

 

                "Data to LaForge,"  his commlink sounded.

 

                "Go ahead, Data."

 

                "I was wondering if you could meet me in Ten Forward."

 

                Geordi rubbed his brow. "I have to get up early tomorrow, Data.  I have a meeting with Lieutenant Barclay."

 

                "This will only require a few moments.  I need to discuss a personal matter with you."

 

                Geordi grinned.  If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that Data sounded as giddy as a school boy.  "I'm on my way, Data.  LaForge out."

 

                In Ten Forward, Geordi found Data sitting at the furthest table from the entrance.  Two glasses of Alterian water were already sitting on the table.  Geordi made his way over and sat down across from the android.  He picked up one of the glasses and took a long drink.  He looked expectantly across the table at Data.

 

                "I was just wondering if you had noticed the red evening gown that Councilmember Vash wore the other evening?"  Data sounded somewhat awkward, like an adolescent.

 

                Geordi smiled.  What man in the room hadn't.  "As a matter of fact, I did.  I gather that you did as well."  Geordi knew that there was more to Data's summons than a conversation about fashion.

 

                Data nodded.  "I found myself experiencing a strange..."  his voice trailed off, embarrassed.  Even with a complete, unabridged thesaurus and dictionary in his positronic brain, he found that words just could not describe what he had felt.

 

                Geordi leaned back in his chair and took another sip of water.  Ever since Data's reaction to Vash at the reception, he had a feeling that something like this was going to happen. "So, the captain's lady has you all hot and bothered?"

 

                The android protested, "I am an android.  I am physically incapable of becoming, as you so elegantly put it, 'hot and bothered'.  I merely experienced a unique and indescribable emotion via my emotion chip and I wished to explore that experience with you in an attempt to understand further the complexities of these new feelings."

 

                "What's there to understand?  You have the hots for Vash. It's your first crush, Data."

 

                Data rolled his golden eyes and mimicked a sigh of exasperation.  "As I just informed you, I do not have the capacity to have the 'hots' for anyone.  And what exactly is a crush?"

 

                Geordi leaned forward and leaned his elbows on the table. Was it his imagination or did Data look embarrassed?  "A crush is, well, it's puppy love."

 

                At this point, Data interjected, "I am unclear, Geordi. What do young canines have to do with human emotions?"

 

                Geordi laughed.  "That's what they call it when you feel like you love someone but it's not real.  Puppy love just means that it's young and won't last.  Puppies aren't puppies forever, they become dogs, see?"

 

                Data wasn't sure he understood this concept, but he did want to get on with this so he nodded somewhat hesitantly.  "I think I understand.  But, back to this crush thing.  What is it like? What happens when you get this crush?"

 

                "Well, it's dreamy and scary and exhilarating all at the same time.  It's like nothing you've ever felt before."

 

                "Have you ever had a crush, Geordi?"

 

                Geordi smiled.  There was nothing like a walk down memory lane.  "I had a crush on my physics instructor when I was twelve. Her name was Rachel Devereux.  I was always the first to hand in my homework and I almost always stayed to help clean the lab.  I was as helpless as a puppy."

 

                "How did you resolve this adolescent crisis?"  Data looked down into his glass.  He had to know, he just did not necessarily want to ask.

 

                "I don't know.  I just got over it," Geordi sighed.  "There was no grand appeal, no confrontation, no fight.  Things just ran their course.  I finished the class, moved on to other classes and never saw her again."

 

                Data looked out of the skylight at Planitia station. "I have studied much of the classic literature.  Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Cyrano de Bergerac.  From these works, my analysis is that romantic feelings should be dealt with, explored, analyzed, discussed . . . ."

 

                "I get the point, Data.  They probably should be," Geordi answered.  "But not all the time.  Sometimes a person feels something for someone else and the best thing to do is to do nothing.  If it's meant to be, it will happen.  If it isn't-"

 

                "'A rose by any other name-"  Data began to interrupt.

 

                "May only be a daisy," Geordi's voice was a little forceful,  "Love and roses, wine and passion.  In reality that's only a very small part of it.  Reality takes time.  And then after all of that, sometimes it just doesn't work out."

 

                Data was silent.

 

                "Look," Geordi sighed, "There is a world of difference between having a crush on someone and being in love.  I wish I could tell you that you that you will know the difference when it happens but you might not.  In fact, you probably won't most of the time."

 

                Data looked at his friend.  "I have thought about marriage on many occasions.  I have always wanted to believe that one day I will find someone to share my life.  What if this never happens?"

 

                "I wouldn't jump to any conclusions just yet.  You have to take these things in stride.  Vash and the captain are definitely involved," Geordi looked straight into Data's eyes.  He was almost afraid to ask the next question.  "Data, exactly why did you decide to interfere in their personal problems?"

 

                "The captain hurt the feelings of Councilmember Vash very badly,"  Data's voice and expression became protective.  "He blamed her for not knowing the difference between the impostor and himself.  He knew there was no way she could have known.  He had no right to treat her so coldly.  She deserved to be treated better than that."

 

                "So you decided to become her champion."  Geordi shook his head.  God protects children, fools, and obviously, androids. "What you did was dangerous, but it seems to have worked out for the best.  From now on, let the captain worry about Vash.  It wouldn't be fair for you to intervene more.  Not to the captain, Vash, or you?"

 

                Data looked puzzled.  "In what way would it be unfair to me?"

 

                "Data, Vash is in love with another man.  Another man that just happens to be a friend and your commanding officer.  Now having your heart broken is one thing, losing two of your friends on top of that is something else."  Geordi finished his water and stood up.  "All I'm saying is that you should focus more on what you have and less on what you don't.  You'll find that you'll be much happier."

 

                "And if I never fall in love?"  Data sounded very depressed.

 

                "Love is everything there is in the universe and much, much more.  But sometimes, it's much less.  Take stock of your friends.  Many times I should have and didn't."  Geordi walked around the table and put his hand on Data's shoulder   "If you need me, you know where to find me."

 

                Geordi left to get some sleep before his meeting with Barclay.  Data stayed at the table.  When Geordi reached the door to the lounge, he looked back at Data who sat there looking for all the world like a lost puppy.

 

.....................................................

 

                After a long time, Data rose from the table.  He squared his shoulders and calmly walked out of the lounge to make his way back to his quarters.  Two junior officers, walking in the corridor, straightened at his approach.  Saluting was outdated in Starfleet, but the presence of a senior officer still required some form of an acknowledgment.  Data responded with a slight nod.  Geordi had told him not to interfere more.  He had only wanted to help Vash and the captain settle their differences. What did Geordi think he was going to do?  Did Geordi actually think he would . . .  How had Commander Riker once put it?   Did Geordi actually think he would put the moves on Vash?  It was an impossibility.

 

                Data entered his quarters and noticed that Spot was asleep with her kittens snuggled in around her.  It gave him an idea of how he could take his mind off his conversation with Geordi. Since he had eight hours before he had to be on the bridge, he decided to engage his dream program.  Data stretched himself out on his bed.  Closing his eyes, he began to dream.

 

                Data immediately recognized the setting.  He was alone in the room containing the famous Round Table of Camelot.  This was one of his favorite dream sequences.  He was dressed in an emerald green silk tunic that was belted at the waist and hung to just above his knees.   Black leather breeches and boots completed his costume.  Holding the jeweled encrusted  hilt of a shiny steel broad sword, he was standing behind a chair at the large table.  The chair directly to the right of King Arthur's seat, Sir Lancelot's chair.  The room was lit by the many torches hanging on the stone walls and warmed by the roaring fire in the huge fireplace on the wall just to the right of him.

 

                "Sir Lancelot," came the gentle feminine voice from the doorway behind him.

 

                "Yes, your Majesty."  Data turned and dropped to genuflect to the queen, his eyes lowered and both hands on the hilt of his sword, standing it in front of him.

 

                "Please rise, sir knight.  The king and the rest of the knights have left for Cameliard.  We are alone.  I assume the king asked you to stay behind as my protector."  He heard her shut the heavy wood door and slide the bolt shut.

 

                "Yes, your Majesty."  He stood up and gazed at the beautiful sight of Queen Guinevere.  She was in a midnight blue gown made of the finest velvet.  The gown skimmed her delicate frame and fell into generous folds around her legs, just sweeping the stone floor.  The gentle swell of her breasts strained against its low square neckline.  In her brunette hair was a gold crown, encrusted with sapphires and diamonds.  The dark blue of the gown only added to the effect of her dazzling blue eyes.  As those eyes swept over him, her lips slightly parted in a silent but seductive invitation.  This was not how this dream normally went.

 

                She gracefully moved to stand in front of him  She laid her hands on his cheeks, her palms felt cool and soft against his face.  "We are alone, my love," she whispered.  As she moved in closer, he could feel her warm breath on his face.  Standing on tiptoe, she raised her face to his and captured his lips in a gentle but passionate kiss.  As her lips continued to move sensuously over his, Data felt himself responding. The sword clattered to the floor, unnoticed.  He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her supple curves to him.  He could feel the soft rich velvet of her gown underneath his hands.  He felt her arms wrap around his neck as she tried to pull him even closer.  He deepened the kiss and let his hands search the feminine contours confined in the lush material.  Her hands moved down to his chest and around to his back.  As his hands continued to glide over the velvet covering her body, she broke the kiss, threw her head back, and drew in a deep, gasping breath.  Data gently bent her back slightly, and kissed his way down her neck to thoroughly explore the tantalizing cleavage exposed by the low neckline of the dress.  He kissed his way back up to her mouth, seizing her lips in a kiss so possessive it surprised him.

 

                Queen Guinevere broke the kiss, pulling back slightly.  As she gazed at him with desire in her blue eyes, she brought her hands around and ran them over his chest.  She let her hands drop to the tie of his belt, unfastening it with quick, deft movements and dropping it to the floor.  Her hands moved back up to his chest to undo the lacing of his tunic.  She pushed it open and pulled it down his arms so that she could explore his bare chest. Data could not take his eyes off of the elegant vision in front of him.  She was radiant in the golden glow of the firelight. She let her hands glide down farther, slowly brushing the front of his breeches.  Data gasped.  I probably should end this dream program, he thought briefly.

 

                Dropping her hands to her sides she stepped around him so that she was standing directly in front of the fireplace.  He turned to face her.  She looked stunning, her silhouette backlit by the fire.

 

                "What do you desire, my lord?" Guinevere asked in a sultry murmur as she reached behind her back and undid the clasps to her gown.  She let the velvet very slowly slide down her, revealing herself to him one inch at a time.  It was a good thing Data was an android, because he discovered that he was no longer breathing.  His eyes raked across every inch of her, the roundness of her breasts, the slim tapered waist, and the curve of her hips.  There was not one imperfection to be found.  On second thought, Data decided, perhaps there was no need to end this at this point.

 

                He stepped toward her and took her into his arms, carefully lowering them both to the bearskin rug on the floor in front of the fireplace.  Kneeling above her, he lowered his mouth to gently nibble and tease the crest of one breast as he let one of his hands caress the impossibly soft skin of her thigh.  He tenderly rubbed the palm of his other hand over the nipple of her other breast.   She wrapped her arms around his neck and groaned, arching into him.  Removing his hand from her breast, he lifted his mouth from her just long enough to switch to the other breast.  After paying the same homage to that breast, he kissed his way up to her neck.  He let his hands discover and enjoy every inch of her.  As he let his lips softly devour the tender spot where her neck met her shoulders, his hands slid up her body from her hips to stroke the skin underneath her breasts.  His hands slid up to cup the fullness of her breasts manipulating each hard, straining nipple with his thumbs.  Data felt her move sinuously beneath him.  He stopped for a brief second to savor the contrasting sensations he was feeling.  He could feel Lady Guinevere's body, soft and satiny beneath him.  He could also feel a contrasting roughness from the bearskin rug beneath them. The fire warmly toasted both of their bodies, fanning their flames of desire.  After a time, he let one hand move back down to massage her sensitive inner thigh.  He very gradually maneuvered himself until he had settled himself between her supple thighs.  Her hands moved between their bodies to the waistband of his breeches, undoing them and freeing him.

 

                "Please, love me!" she begged him in a fervent whisper.  She wrapped her arms around him, running her hands frantically up and down his spine.

 

                He held her hips firmly and quickly lowered himself into her.  He kept his movements fast and strong until he felt her start to peak.  He then stopped and held both of them perfectly still until her body had calmed just enough.  Then he resumed his original pace, stopping again just as she started to peak.  He could hear the queen's ragged breathing and was briefly astonished to note that his own breathing was less than even.  He repeated this two more times.  Each time Data stopped she started to whimper, begging him to keep going and scratching her nails down his back.  Once, when he had stopped, he looked down into her face to see her eyes closed, her mouth open, and her face contorted with desperate need.  Tenderly, he leaned down to gently pull her lower lip between his teeth.  She moaned into his mouth, frantically trying to arch her body into his.  Finally, after the fourth time he had stopped them, he resumed his movements and continued until he felt her entire body shudder with release.  To his complete surprise, he felt some strangely delightful, involuntary spasms course through his own body.  As he realized what he had just experienced, he heard her scream out, "DATA!"

 

                Data sat bolt upright in his bed, his eyes wide open.  He quickly looked around his room to find that he was alone.  He let out a deep breath and ran his hand across his forehead   So that is what Geordi meant by hot and bothered.  He had to admit it was an accurate description of how he felt at the moment.  He activated his communicator.

 

                "Data to Counselor Troi"

 

                "Troi here.  Data, it's kind of late."

 

                "I apologize for the late hour; Counselor.  I feel I really need to see you about a personal matter right away, if it is at all possible?"

 

                "All right, Data.  Meet me in my office in a half an hour."

 

                "Thank you, Counselor.  Data out."

 

.........................................................

 

                In Deanna's quarters, Deanna was trying to get out of the clutches of a Klingon determined not to let her out of bed.

 

                "Worf, let me go.  I have to meet Data and I'm sure you would prefer I get dressed before I go."

 

                "It's the middle of the night.  What emergency could that android have in the middle of the night.  If he's having a nervous breakdown, call engineering.  I'm not finished with you here," Worf growled menacingly.  He could not believe it.  Could they never be left alone to mate.  It seemed that every time they did, someone called one of them away.

 

                "Worf, he sounded upset."  Deanna had succeeded in freeing herself and was now standing by the bed, pulling on a comfortable jumpsuit

 

                "I'm upset.  I'm going to rip that android limb from mechanical limb."

 

                "Worf, that's enough.  I am the ship's counselor and Data is a member of this crew; not to mention the only person on this ship you couldn't rip limb from limb."  Deanna finished putting her hair up and sat down on the bed next to Worf.  "Now go to sleep, I'll be back when I can."   She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

 

                As she left her quarters and headed toward her office, Deanna wondered what the problem could be.  Data had sounded very upset on the comm, she wondered if perhaps he had a nightmare. For someone unused to negative emotions, a nightmare would probably have been very scary.

 

                Data was already in her office when she arrived.  She got a cup of hot chocolate from the replicator and sat down across from a very concerned Data.

 

                "So, what seems to be the problem, Data?"

 

                "I am somewhat confused, Counselor," Data began hesitantly. "I have had an unusual dream and am unsure how to analyze it."

 

                "Well, why don't you tell me about it and we can look at it together."  Deanna sat back in her chair congratulating herself on hitting the nail on the head.  He had probably dreamed he had lost the emotion chip and was back to the way he was before.

 

                "Well, Counselor, I activated my dream program earlier this evening to distract myself from other issues.  The dream that began was a very familiar one.  I was Sir Lancelot from King Arthur's court.  I have spent many dream sequences slaying large, fierce dragons with a broadsword or bringing peace and justice to the realm of Camelot."

 

                "I see Data.  And how was this dream different from your previous dreams."  Deanna took another sip of chocolate   At this rate, she would be here with Data all night.

 

                "I was not doing battle in this dream."  Data sat back in his chair, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

 

                "What were you doing in this dream?"

 

                "I was standing by the Round Table in Camelot.  Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me.  It was Queen Guinevere.  She stated that King Arthur and the rest of the knights had gone.  She referred to me as her love."

 

                "Well Data, it is an established part of the legend that Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere were lovers."  Deanna thought back fondly to one of the greatest love triangles of all times.

 

                "Yes, Counselor.  I am aware of that; however . . . " Data trailed off, not sure how to explain the problem.

 

                "Data, I can't help you if I don't understand what's bothering you.  You had a dream that was slightly different than other dreams.  Your dream included a woman who was in love with you but I'm not sure what about that bothers you."  Deanna finished her hot chocolate and set the empty cup on the table beside her.  This didn't exactly sound like a bad dream to her.

 

                "The woman in my dream, Queen Guinevere, was Councilmember Vash, the head of the archaeology department onboard the Enterprise."

 

                Deanna sat forward in surprise.  Data had dreamed about Vash?  Well, things were definitely getting more interesting.

 

                "Go on, Data."

 

                Data began to talk then stopped, not exactly sure how to put this delicately.  "We, that is.... well..... in my dream, Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere consummated their affair."

 

                Deanna barely managed to get her poker face in place.  Data had dreamed about having sex with Vash.  This was really good. "I see.  Why does that upset you so much?  It is true to the setting of the dream."

 

                "But this was not Guinevere, this was Vash.  And when she, that is, when she... reached the point that is typically attained during intercourse, she screamed my name.  She called me Data."

 

                Deanna bought herself some time by taking her glass back over to the replicator and getting a fresh cup of hot chocolate. "Data, what you had was an erotic dream.  But that is all it was, a dream."

 

                "But everything felt so real.  I could feel her body... I mean her presence so clearly.  How could I betray the captain like that?  With someone he is obviously involved with?"  Data was obviously very upset by the fact that Vash had been the woman in his dream.

 

                "But it wasn't real.  It was just a dream, Data.  You haven't betrayed anyone.  How can someone be held responsible for something over which they have no control?  You didn't actually do those things to Vash, you dreamed about doing them."  Deanna could see that Data was distraught, but she was having some difficulty keeping a straight face.  Data called her in the middle of the night to psychoanalyze a wet dream.

 

                "But, Counselor, I have had feelings for Vash.  I have experienced some strange reactions while in her presence beginning with the welcoming reception last evening.  Geordi has informed me that I have a crush on her.  So having her in my dream was my unconscious acting out my innermost thoughts and desires, right?"

 

                "Data, we have had this talk before about dreams.  Sometimes a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.  Even Freud said that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.  Ok, you have a crush on Vash, given the problems between Captain Picard and her, she has probably been on your mind.  When you started the dream program, your thoughts of her intruded on your program and incorporated your feelings toward her into the context of the dream.  You didn't intentionally put her there."

 

                "So what you are telling me is that perhaps I should not use my dream program until my feelings for Vash have been resolved, correct?"  Data was feeling better now that he had a concrete solution to his dilemma.

 

                "No, Data.  Think about your dream.  Who did it hurt?  Does anyone other than me know you've had this dream?  Would you really do those things to Vash here?"  Deanna thought perhaps a major reality check might help Data put things in perspective.

 

                "Well, it did not cause anyone distress.  I most certainly would never tell anyone else about this dream, nor would I be compelled to act out those thoughts with Vash anywhere at any time."  Data thought about those facts.

 

                "Data, did you enjoy the dream?"  Deanna was curious about Data's own performance in the dream, but professionalism prevented her from asking outright.

 

                "It was quite enjoyable, Counselor.  In fact, I believe I also . . . reached that same point that Lady Guinevere in my dream reached."

 

                Deanna couldn't believe what she was hearing.  Well that did answer her unasked question about his performance.  "Well then, Data.  I think you've answered your own question.  It didn't hurt anyone and you would never do those things in reality.  So where is the harm.  Everyone fantasizes and dreams about things like that now and then.  It's harmless escapism.  And it did get your mind off of your other distractions for a time being, did it not?  So the dream served it's purpose."

 

                "I suppose you are correct, Counselor.  Perhaps I should not attempt to control my dreams as much.  Letting my dreams go where they will and involve whatever subjects they choose would be more human, would it not?"

 

                "Yes, Data."  By George, Deanna thought, he just might be getting it.

 

                "Well, then.  Thank you very much for your time, counselor. If you will excuse me, I still have several hours in which to run another dream program."

 

                As Deanna watched Data leave her office, she smiled, shook her head, and filed this one away under 'Believe It or Not'.

 

...............................................

 

 

                "White wine spritzer, chilled."

 

                Vash took her wine and settled into a hot, soothing bubble bath.  She had thrown herself into her work to try to forget everything.  It hadn't worked.   Maybe the bath would help her calm down.  Vash stayed in the tub for what felt like hours. When she felt as relaxed as she would probably get for the evening, she got out of the tub and began to dry herself off.  For evening wear, she had decided on her favorite white satin negligee with matching satin cover-up.  Just as she slipped the negligee on, the door chime rang.

 

                "Who is it?" she asked as she hurriedly slipped the cover-up on.

 

                "It's me, Jean-Luc, may I please come in?" came the inquiry from outside the door.

 

                "I didn't think you ever wanted to see me again, Jean-Luc."

 

                "Please Vash," she could barely hear the quiet response.

 

                "Come in."

 

                Jean-Luc stepped hesitantly into her quarters.  He had a great deal to repair between them.  He loved Vash, he knew that now.  He hoped that she cared enough for him to forgive his stupidity.

 

                "Before you say anything, Jean-Luc.  I want you to know that I honestly believed it was *you* I was giving myself to last night.  I wish with all my heart that it had been you.  I think it would be best if I transferred back to the Academy or to another ship.  Until then, we should just avoid seeing each other."  Vash could barely see through the tears stinging her eyes.  Her voice shook as she spoke and she could only hope that Jean-Luc didn't hear the catch in her voice.  Turning to walk into the bedroom, she whispered, "Please go now, Jean-Luc."

 

                Picard's heart dropped as he heard the pain in her voice. He had been a real bastard to hurt her the way he had.  He couldn't let his irrational jealousy ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.  She didn't even know about the alternate universe.  How could he expect her to identify a man who was physically exactly like himself, right down to genetic make-up, as a fraud.  He couldn't let things end this way.  Guinan had been right.  Suddenly, she was right here.  He had to try to win her back.  He walked to the doorway of the bedroom, he called softly, "Vash."

 

                Vash was standing at the far side of her bedroom with her back to him, taking deep shuddering breaths, trying to bring her turbulent emotions under control.  Picard glanced around her bedroom, it was not quite what he expected.  The bed was made with a white eyelet lace comforter with overstuffed pillows and shams scattered at the head of the bed.  On the pillows lay a well-worn, plush yellow Winnie the Pooh bear.  Picard wagered that if he searched the room long enough, he would find the accompanying children's classic by A.A. Milne.  The bedside table held a copy of *Gone With the Wind*.  On her dresser stood a beautiful antique porcelain doll.  The doll had dark cornsilk hair and was dressed in a Victorian wedding gown.

 

                Picard walked over to stand just behind her, his voice a rich, gentle baritone, "Of course you believed it was me.  You had absolutely no reason to think otherwise and had I not allowed myself to be so completely blinded by jealousy, I would have realized that.  I know I have no right to ask you to stay, but please don't leave the Enterprise."

 

                When Vash didn't answer, he turned her toward him, but her eyes were still downcast.  Cupping her cheek in his palm, he slipped a thumb under her chin to bring her gaze up to his.  He was chagrined to see there were streaks there left by tears.  Picard tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. "You've been crying."

 

                "Jean-Luc," Vash's voice faltered as she took a deep shuddering breath and leaned her face into his hand.

 

                Picard's eyes flooded with regret as they met hers.  His voice was choked with emotion as he began, "S`il vous plait, petite amie . . ."

 

                "Hush."  Placing a finger softly against his lips to silence him, Vash gently shook her head.  Jean-Luc's anguish was evident in voice as he lapsed into his native French.  She didn't need to hear the words.  All she needed was him.  She moved her finger from his lips to splay her hand across the back of his head, bringing his mouth to hers in an impassioned kiss.

 

                Blood roared in Picard's ears as he felt the lush, fullness of her lips crushed against his own.  Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Vash pulling her lithe form tightly to him as his lips answered the demands of hers. Overjoyed to have her in his arms, he relished the sweet scent of her perfume.  He delighted in the feel of her body pressed into his at every point, from the softness of her breasts against his chest to the intertwining of their legs.  Reluctantly, he pulled back, breaking the kiss.  He stepped back and took a deep breath to try to rein in his increasing desires.  He searched her lovely face for reassurance, "Vash, are you sure this is what you want?"

 

                Jean-Luc's passionate response to her kiss had left Vash weak in the knees.  The emotions this man ignited in her were unlike anything she had ever known.  Her only defense was her own bravado.  Untying her cover-up, her appreciative gaze boldly traveled over the handsome officer in front of her.  Her voice was low and sultry, "What I want  . . . is you."

 

                Picard's breath caught in his throat as Vash emphasized her words by rolling her shoulders and allowing the satin robe to glide from her body to fall to her feet.  His body tensed in an ardent response to the way the white satin negligee she wore revealed more of her sexy silhouette than it concealed.  The thin straps and low scoop neckline gave a breathtaking view of her lush cleavage.  The delicate satin clung to the curves of her breasts, her slim waist and the feminine flair of her hips.  The negligee ended at mid thigh, setting off her long, shapely legs.  As she took a step to close the distance between them, her blue eyes sparkled with that impish glint that slightly unnerved him.

 

                "Captain, am I safe in assuming you're off duty?" Vash cooed, reaching up to leisurely trace one finger around the rank pips on the collar of his uniform.  Seeing him nod wordlessly, she added, "Then perhaps you'd be more comfortable out of uniform?"

 

                "Definitely . . . most definitely," Picard muttered hoarsely under his breath as she began undoing the fasteners to his uniform jacket.  His senses stirred from the feel of her small hands slipping inside his jacket and sliding up to his shoulders.

 

                Vash pushed the jacket off the masculine slope of his shoulders, peeling it from his firm torso to drop on the floor.  After succeeding in stripping him to the waist, her hands traveled upward along his bare arms, lingering on the solid, bulging biceps.  Reaching his shoulders, she thrilled at 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 marveled at the power contained in his lean, well-defined muscular body.  She raised her gaze to his.  She found herself mesmerized by the way his handsome chiseled features framed his intense grey eyes and the firm set of his mouth.  The thought of those lips on hers sent a shiver of desire through her.  As the sensation spread across her breasts, the peaks hardened pushing against the thin satin of her negligee.  All at once, his lips captured hers in a deep, passionate kiss.  She clenched her hands, curling her fingers into his chest hair as he slipped his tongue past her parted lips to gently stroke and caress the warm, moist cavern of her mouth.

 

                As his mouth laid claim to hers, Picard could feel the muscles of his body tighten and his hardness grow with each passing moment.  He wrapped his arms around her.  Slipping his hands beneath the hem of her negligee, he slid his hands up the back of her thighs until he found the roundness of her derriere.  What he discovered drove his need up another notch.  He cupped the supple flesh and pulled her tighter against him.  Breaking the kiss, he rasped in surprise, "You're wearing nothing under this."

 

                "I was getting ready for bed.  And unless I'm in the field, I rarely wear panties to bed," Vash informed him in a seductive whisper.  The warmth of his strong, capable hands on her bare skin was driving her to distraction.

 

                "You are outrageous!" he gasped in amazement.

 

                "So you've said," Vash purred.  The last time he said that to her was on Risa just before he made love to her for the first time.  Splaying her hands across his chest, she gently pushed herself back slightly.  Her hands drifted down over the taut muscles of his stomach to the waistband of his trousers.  Running her hands over his strong thighs, Vash found and caressed the evidence of his desire for her.  Even through the fabric of his trousers, she could feel his body’s hard arousal throbbing under her touch.  Once again her hands found the waistband of his uniform trousers.  Swiftly, she opened his trousers and grasped him expertly.  She heard a groan from the back of his throat as her hand took up a teasing rhythm.  Leaning in to nibble on the sensitive spot just below his ear, she murmured, "And Johnny, you haven't seen anything yet."

 

                An alarm went off in Picard's head at that last statement, especially since Vash followed it by slowly sinking to her knees looking up at him with an expression of sly mischief.  He thought he might actually lose his mind as the moist heat of her mouth enveloped him.  Unbidden, his eyes looked down at the enchanting siren tormenting him and immediately regretted that as he saw the sight that met his eyes.  She paused briefly and looked up through her lashes to coyly meet his gaze. Deliberately, she swirled her delicate pink tongue around him, making sure he could see her every movement. Arching an eyebrow up at him, she redoubled her efforts.  Overwhelmed by the sensations, he wound his hands into her silky hair.  Closing his eyes, Picard threw his head back and groaned, "Mon Dieu, Vash!"

 

                Vash was thoroughly enjoying herself as she took him just to the edge, keeping him there as she listened to his ragged breathing. Her mouth kept up the tempo as she reached up to gently rake the tips of her fingernails down the tense muscles of his abdomen.  He drew in a deep ragged breath and began muttering incoherently in English, French, and of all things, Klingonese; she didn't even know that he spoke Klingonese.  Every nerve in her own body tingled with anticipation.  The sight of his lean, powerful body stretched out in front of her with the hard, sweat-dampened muscles straining as he fought to keep control was extremely erotic.

 

                "S`il vous plait Vash . . .Please Vash . . .. S`il vous plait," Picard gasped, half-pleading, half-warning.  With each passing moment, her tantalizing ministrations pushed at the very limits of his self-control.

 

                Knowing she had found his limit, Vash finally let up.  She moved back up his body, using her lips, tongue and hands to explore every muscular inch of him.  Vash let her mouth drift to the center of his chest, swirling her tongue through the coarse hair as she went. She gently took one of his nipples between her lips and rolled her tongue over it savoring the taste of his skin.

 

                As Vash's mouth reached his neck, Picard centered himself with deep breaths.  It was high time he took command of the situation.  Aching to claim the alluring vixen, one hand moved to cup her head and pull her mouth up to his in a fiercely passionate kiss.  His tongue plunged past her parted lips, boldly taking possession of everything in its path.  Sliding his other arm to encircle her waist, he crushed the supple curves of her body tightly against him.  His mouth left her soft lips almost reluctantly, moving down to nuzzle the sensitive spot under her earlobe. Picard’s voice took on a smooth, honeyed baritone timbre.  "Last night at the reception, you were right.  Just watching you from across the lounge I wanted to grab you, claim you in front of everyone and carry you off to my quarters."

 

                As if to add emphasis to his words, Jean-Luc swept Vash up into his arms and carried her to the bed.  A small sigh escaped her lips when she felt herself being lifted effortlessly by his powerful arms.  Encircling his neck with her arms, she let her head fall to rest on his shoulder and relished in the strength and security of his embrace.  Whisking the covers back with one arm, he gently laid her on the bed.  The desire in his steel grey eyes pinned her in place as he quickly stripped off his boots and trousers.  Vash's breath caught in her throat at the sight of his rippling, hard body.

 

                As Jean-Luc knelt next to her on the bed, Vash's hands tentatively slid up the corded muscles of his abdomen to entwine her fingers in the hair on his chest.  He lowered his face to brush a kiss on the hollow of her throat.  She arched her head back to bare herself to the trail of feather-light kisses he laid from the base of her throat across her shoulder.  He teased her, brushing his lips over her skin ever-so-softly as he slipped the straps of her negligee off the feminine slope of her shoulders.  Her entire body flushed with excitement as his hands gently glided over her, sliding the satin negligee down from her body to banish it to the floor.

 

                Dropping one last kiss on her luscious lips, Picard pulled his face from hers.  As he knelt next to Vash, his gaze slowly pored over the full length of her nude body to memorize every detail.  He noted how her hair, strewn over her pillow, framed the delicate features of her face, her vivid blue eyes and her lush lips.  His eyes trailed over the graceful arch of her neck and the full curves of her breasts with their creamy skin tipped by rosy peaks.   As his heated gaze traveled down her slim waist, the feminine curve of her hips, and those long legs, he breathed, "You're an absolutely beautiful woman."

 

                Jean-Luc covered her body with his own as he captured her lips in a deep, gentle kiss.  She moved restlessly beneath him as the weight of his body pressed hers into the bed.  Heated waves of arousal caused a tight knot of desire in her stomach by the time his mouth released hers.  She looked up to see he had raised up slightly and was studying her face.  She slid her arms up to encircle his neck and arched toward him, as she pleaded breathlessly, "Please Jean-Luc, I want to feel you inside me."

 

                "Such impatience, mademoiselle, the night is young," Picard teased with a soft, masculine chuckle.  Leaning in, he placed an open mouth kiss on the hollow of her throat, flicking his tongue very rapidly against the pulse point.  She closed her eyes and rolled her head back on the pillow, softly moaning as Picard's mouth made its way down the silken expanse of her skin to the full curves of her breasts.  His lips imprisoning the stiff nipple of one of her breasts, he leisurely swirled his tongue over the stiff peak.  Vash moaned his name as she held his head with both hands, pulling him even closer.  Savoring her impassioned reactions, he nipped at the hardened crest slightly before suckling strongly.  He ravenously tormented first one breast and then the other.

 

                Streaks of fire raced through Vash’s body as Jean-Luc pulled and teased the taut nipples.  As she whimpered, his mouth left her breasts to slowly journey down the smooth skin of her flat stomach with a trail of hot, moist kisses.  He placed kisses around her navel before erotically exploring it with his tongue.  Every touch felt like a lighting strike to her sensitive skin as his mouth traversed even lower to find her birthmark.  When his warm, wet mouth settled over the mark, his tongue traced the outline before extensively canvassing the sensitive area.  Her entire body felt as if it were made of liquid flames and her arms fell heavily to her sides, her hands clutching at the sheets.  Her mind reeled from the sensations of his mouth and tongue possessing her.  His tongue, dear God, the things his tongue was doing to her!  Vash writhed helplessly under his carnal onslaught.  Sliding his hands to grasp the gentle flare of her hips to hold her still, his lips finally moved on to their final destination. Vash closed her eyes and moaned softly as she felt him lick and softly kiss the very core of her desire. With the skill of a virtuoso, he used his lips and tongue to take her to the peak of ecstasy.  As the urgency blossomed, her body rocked with overwhelming ecstasy and she threw her head back, crying out, "Jean-Luc!"

 

                As Picard felt her tremors subside, his mouth began to travel back up her body tasting every dip and curve along the way.  As much as he wanted to continue his exploration of this lovely vision, his burning need for her was now almost overwhelming.  With his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he placed himself between her long shapely legs.

 

                "Now, mademoiselle," Picard rasped hoarsely as he slowly eased his hard length into her heated depths.  When he had completely buried himself in her softness, he paused to savor the extraordinary sensations engulfing him.  Her body seized his and he took deep breaths as he struggled for control.

 

                Vash sighed sensuously as she felt Jean-Luc join their bodies.  When he went no further, she whimpered helplessly in her throat at the frustration.  The heat and fullness left her languishing just beyond the peak of ecstasy.  As her hands glided up the tightly sculpted muscles of his arms, she panted, "Just take me!"

 

                Deciding that they had both waited long enough, Picard buried himself deep inside her with long, hard strokes, pulling himself almost completely out before driving back into her softness.  He fought to keep his motions methodical, suppressing the urge to speed up, in order to take Vash to the very edge of sexual insanity.

 

                Vash relinquished all control to Jean-Luc.  She gave herself up to the strength and sheer virility of his masculine presence, surrendering herself to him completely.  An overpowering pressure was building inside her and every sensation was magnified.  The forceful thrusts of his muscular hips took her to even higher heights of desire.  His steady, measured tempo was driving her mad with wanting.  As her entire body shuddered in another release, her hands tightly clutched his broad shoulders.  Instead of sating her, her release only added to her raging need and she begged him wantonly,  "More . . .Oh Jean-Luc . . .more!"

 

                Picard’s eyes never left Vash as his body took complete possession of hers.  With her eyes closed, she wore a look of total ecstasy on her delicate features.  Each of her sweet cries of passion sent an intense surge of arousal through his own body.  Her body began to tighten around his and her leg muscles began to quiver.  He unleashed the tight rein he had held on his own needs. Gradually, he increased the tempo thrusting into her with an ever increasing urgency.

 

                "Yes, Jean-Luc!  Oh God, yes!" Vash cried out as she felt him increasing the pace.  With each swift movement of his hips, Jean-Luc’s body completely filled her own.  The tension that had he had been building in her finally reached a crescendo.  Her overwhelming release came in wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her.  With a primal scream, Vash’s head fell back and her entire body arched upward.

 

                Not breaking stride, Picard watched with wonder as her body arched toward him with completion.  He continued to drive into her relentlessly, giving himself up to the burning pleasure of his body moving in and out of hers.  With one, last, powerful thrust, he held himself deep inside her as his own explosive release ripped through him.  Collapsing onto Vash, Picard’s body was damp and his breathing labored from the physical exertion.  He let out a satisfied sigh as he felt her small hands traveling over the muscles of his back.

 

                "Oh my, that was extraordinary!" Vash cooed, sounding blissfully content. "And by the way, you're forgiven."

 

                "So I gathered," Picard chuckled into the soft skin of her shoulder. Suddenly, he remembered something she had said earlier.  Raising himself up one one elbow,  he looked down at her with a wry smile, "Johnny?"

 

                "Well, it is your given name," Vash answered, making huge doe eyes at him.

 

                "It's just been a long time since anyone has used that particular diminutive for me," he replied, sounding almost wistful.

 

                "So, who was she?"  Vash quipped, letting her hands wander over the muscular wall of his chest.

 

                "Nothing like that.  It was my nickname at the Academy," he assured her with a chuckle. "It hasn't been used in years, probably because it's not very captain-like."

 

                "Don't be so sure," she looked down and tangled her fingers in his chest hair. "You know Commodore Harding?"

 

                Picard nodded, "He teaches at the Academy, military history and tactics, I believe."

 

                "Uh-huh.  He does an entire lecture on 'Captain's of the Enterprise.'  So much of it is devoted to the careers of yourself and James Kirk that in the staff lounge he calls it,"  Vash glanced up at him coyly through her lashes, "the Jimmy-Johnny lecture."

 

                "Mon Dieu," Picard groaned.

 

                His reaction delighted Vash. "Now I've never had a chance to actually sit in on it, but Alynna has, and said it was quite interesting."

 

                "Alynna?" His eyes went wide, "Admiral Alynna Nechayev?"

 

                "Oh that's right, you have to call her admiral.  And if I'm not mistaken she is your CO," Vash teased impishly.  "I'm a civilian, I get to call her Alynna.  We have lunch together all the time."

 

                "Lunch?"

 

                "Yes.  In fact, it was over lunch that she suggested I should head up the Enterprise's Archaeology department.  She pointed out that this offers me the chance to do field work again.  She also told me that for the last month or so you had been quietly making inquires about what measures had been taken to provide for my security.  Alynna thought you might prefer to have me . . ."  Vash trailed off as she glanced down at where their bodies were still joined.  Looking back up at him, she raised her eyebrow meaningfully, "under your personal protection."

 

                "I doubt this is what she had in mind," Picard replied dryly.

 

                "Maybe not.  But it's definitely what I had in mind," Vash giggled.  He shook his head with gentle exasperation as he started to move himself off of her.  She wrapped her arms around him and tightened her legs so his body couldn't leave hers.  Her voice was suddenly pleading as she whispered, "Don't go, Jean-Luc.  Not yet."

 

                "Shhh, I'm not going anywhere," he soothed, tender concern flooding his features.  He leaned in to claim her lips with his, calming her fears with a gentle kiss.  Breaking the kiss, he pulled his face from hers.  "What's wrong, chere?"

 

                "It's just the first time in about a year that I have actually felt safe.  Since the Bajor incident, I have been constantly looking over my shoulder, even on Earth."  He was the only person she would ever have admitted that to.

 

                'What the hell had happened to her?' Picard wondered.  Vash was not a woman who frightened easily.  If anything she was too daring for her own good.  The reports that he had seen about the kidnapping attempt on Bajor had been very sketchy.  Something must have been left out.

 

                "Vash, the reports on that incident weren't very detailed. Do you want to tell me what happened exactly?"

 

                "No, but I will,"  she said quietly. "But first, I want you to promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

 

                "Stupid?  What do you mean by that?" he sounded slightly indignant as she finally allowed him to sit up.

 

                "Take a guess," she smiled at him.  Sitting up herself, she ran a hand through her hair and added, "Robin Hood."

 

                He smiled.  That little maneuver was not one of his better moves.  "I promise no storming castles single-handedly.  Just tell me what happened."

 

                Vash grabbed her Pooh bear from where it had fallen to the floor, and clutched it to her protectively.  "Several other archaeologists and myself at the conference decided to go to one of the newer sites closer to the Neutral Zone, but still well inside Federation territory.  Our runabout came under attack by a small, but heavily armed Cardassian ship.  We were easily overtaken and boarded.  After all, we were unarmed.  My three companions were murdered instantly by the Cardassian soldiers.  I was taken prisoner and led to the Gul's private chamber.  I guess he wanted a private lecture on the Gamma quadrant before handing me over to his superiors.  I quickly learned that a one hundred and fifteen pound human female cannot physically overcome the unwanted sexual advances of a two hundred and fifty pound Cardassian male in full armor.  He had half my clothes ripped off and I was pinned beneath him when an explosion shook the ship."  She stopped and took a moment to calm herself before continuing.  She absently pulled at Pooh's ear

 

                "The next thing I knew, the Gul was dragged off me and thrown against the bulkhead.  Then a man, who looked like your first officer, covered me with his jacket and we beamed to a Maquis ship.  He said his name was Tom Riker.  He made sure that I had safe transportation back to Earth.  I had decided that I was way out of my league when it came to the Cardassians and the Romulans.  I'll tell you what I told Starfleet Command.  I asked that the Maquis not allow me to know anything about themselves;  I can't tell what I don't know.  While I was in their care I stayed in one room with no windows.  I owe them my life."

 

                Picard turned to face her.  Insanely, he wanted to protect her from something that had already happened.  He spoke to her gently.  "I won't ask about the Maquis.  I doubt that they would have let you find out anything useful about them, anyway.  However, do you know which Gul it was who lead the attack?"  He was not a fan of the Maquis, but he felt immensely grateful to Tom Riker.

 

                Vash would never be able to forget the Gul's face or his name.  "Gul Madred."

 

                Picard felt his blood run cold at the name.  She had been a very lucky lady to escape.  Maybe someday he would tell her just how lucky.  He drew the poor Pooh bear out of her twisting grasp and placed it back on the floor beside the bed.  "Darling, you're hurting Pooh."  He then pulled Vash into a protective embrace and kissed the top of her head as he laid them both back down.  "So that's why you decided to come onto the Enterprise.  You know full well that I would never let anyone hurt you."

 

                Vash sighed sleepily and snuggled up against him. "Yes, I do know that."

 

                "Good, I'm glad," he whispered to her.  "Now go to sleep."

 

                The next morning, Picard sat at the table in Vash's quarters waiting for her to join him for breakfast.  She walked out of the bedroom making some final adjustments to her hair.  Picard smiled.  Somewhere, there has to be a cosmic law that women must take longer then men to get ready.  She was wearing a very tailored royal blue coat dress.  The dress had gold buttons down its entire length and gold piping trim which gave it a mock military look.  It showed off her two best features; her eyes and her legs

 

                "Sorry it took me so long, Jean-Luc," she smiled back as she sat down across from him.

 

                Before he could respond, the door chime rang. "Expecting someone?"  he inquired.

 

                As she shook her head no, she stood back up and called out, "Come in."

 

                Will Riker stepped into the room.  He smiled warmly, if a little flirtatiously.  "Good morning, Vash."  Then he noticed his commanding officer seated at the table.  Inwardly he crowed, ' Yes! '  He addressed Picard, "Good morning, Captain. I hope I'm not interrupting anything"

 

                "Not at all, Number One.  Did you need to see me?" Picard raised an eyebrow at his first officer, secretly amused by Riker's reaction to Vash.  Will was a hopeless flirt.

 

                "Actually, Sir, I needed to see Vash," he said.

 

                This piqued Vash's curiosity.  "What is it, Will?"

 

                Riker shifted his weight a little uncomfortably, "It's the impostor, Vash.  He's asked to see you.  Whether or not you see him is totally up to you.  We haven't been able to get anything out of him, but..."

 

                "But maybe I can," she finished for him. "Maybe with me, he'll let something slip.  Is that what you were thinking?"

 

                Riker read the stoic expression on his captain's face  "I'm sorry, Captain."  He turned back to Vash, "Yes, Vash, that was what Worf and I were hoping."

 

                Vash took a deep breath.  "I don't know.  I need to think this over."

 

                "Of course, Vash, it's totally up to you," Riker repeated. He nodded to Picard and then left her quarters.

 

                "Well, the other shoe has finally dropped," Vash thought out loud.

 

                Picard rose and paced over to the window to stare out into the blackness of space.

 

                "Do you want to see him?" he finally asked, quietly.

 

                "I don't know if want is the right word.  I think I need to see him.  He's the only one who can answer certain questions I have.  I just need to know why he deceived me like that," her voice was barely a whisper.

 

                "Why?  Oh, I can tell you why!" Picard thundered as he turned from the window to face her.  Remembering how she had looked in that red gown, he knew exactly what his impostor had in mind.  "Lust.  Lust to possess a beautiful woman.  I know he wants you.  Remember, he's a twisted, sinister mirror image of myself.  Genetically, we're both Jean-Luc Picard.  He wants you.  He will probably stop at nothing to have you.  And I delivered you to him, gift-wrapped!"

 

                Vash could hear the pain and self-reproach in his voice.  Gently, she assured him, "There was nothing you could have done, Jean-Luc.  It wasn't your fault."

 

                He still felt that somehow he was responsible for letting this happen, but that wasn't what was important right now.  There was something he needed to know.  Reining in his own anger, he tempered his tone, "How do you feel about him?"

 

                Vash walked over and gently laid her hands on his chest. Her voice was soft.  "Jean-Luc, from the moment we met on Risa, I was physically attracted to you." She blushed, looked down, and then with a shy smile looked up at him through her lashes. "Okay, very physically attracted to you.  Since he's identical to you, it stands to reason that I would find him physically attractive.   But that's all the further it goes.  He is not the one I want.  He is not the man I went to see that night.  You are."

 

                "It should've been me.  It should have been me doing those things to you that night," Picard insisted quietly.

 

                "Yes, it should've been you!  That's my point."  She decided it was now or never and she might as well tell him everything. "You are the one I'm in love with!"

 

                "You love me?"  Picard could barely breathe, his heart felt as if it would burst through his chest at any moment.  Had he really heard her right?

 

                Vash sighed in frustration "Jean-Luc, how can a man reputed to be the most brilliant military strategist Starfleet has ever had be so incredibly dense?  Do you have the slightest idea why I went to your quarters that night?"  When he shook his head no she started to laugh.  "I went there to seduce you!  Hell, the lingerie I was wearing was worth more than the gown.  A woman doesn't dress that way unless she means business."

 

                Picard was now grinning shamelessly, "Indeed, I'll have to keep that in mind."   He wrapped his arms around her slim form and drew her into his embrace. "I love you, Vash.  I admit I have reservations about you seeing him, but it's your decision.  Whatever you decide about seeing the impostor will be fine with me."  He leaned down to capture her lips in a very passionate kiss.

 

                Finally, Vash broke the kiss and whispered. "Do you really want to do those things to me?"

 

                "Believe it or not, yes," he answered, impressed with how well she had read him.  From one vague statement, she had read his most secret desire.  A desire he had only barely admitted to himself.  Part of his jealousy came from the fact that he really did want to claim her for himself in the feral, 'no holds barred' manner the alternate had.  He watched as she stepped back a few paces and leaned back against the wall.  He could not control the look of open lust on his face as she seductively undid the first button of her dress giving him a silent invitation.

 

                "So, Jean-Luc, just what is stopping you?  Besides the fact that we are both going to be late for work," she gently challenged him in a low sensual voice, as she reached for, and took, his hands to pull him to her.

 

                "Probably very late," he corrected her in a husky whisper.  He quickly began undoing the buttons of her dress.

 

.......................................

 

                On the bridge, Picard sat in his ready room going over the daily reports from his department heads.  This was not exactly fascinating reading, especially since they were in dry-dock.  His mind kept wandering back to earlier this morning, he could only imagine where Vash had learned that particular maneuver.  He was in awe of her incredible flexibility; how she managed to bend herself that way would always be a mystery to him.  A slow smile spread across his face as he recalled Vash's ingenuity.  He had no idea that a simple tube of lipstick and makeup brush could be used in quite that manner.  Picard's daydream was interrupted by the door chime.

 

                "Come" was his distracted response.

 

                Riker walked into the room.  Right away he noticed the Cheshire cat grin on his commanding officer's face.  Inwardly he gave a huge sigh of relief, the captain and Vash had definitely settled their differences.

 

                "Obviously the lady and you have kissed and made up."

 

                Picard looked up at his rather amused first officer.  He just couldn't keep from smiling.  "I'm happy you approve, Number One.  However, I assume my personal life is not the reason for this visit."

 

                "I have the report from Planitia.  The impostor accessed the schematics for the entire Enterprise.  He transferred the files to somewhere on the ship but they can't determine exactly which terminal they were downloaded to.  Data can't find them in the main computer core, of course, not all systems have been integrated with the main computer at this point.  Worf and Data are searching for them, but they'll practically have to do a terminal-by-terminal search.  Geordi said he should know by this afternoon how the alternate managed the transdimensional jump," Riker reported, getting down to business.  He hesitated slightly, not sure how the next news would be taken,  "Security reports that Vash is currently visiting the impostor in the brig."

 

                "That doesn't surprise me, Number One, she can be very stubborn.   I'm still not sure it's a good idea; although, it might answer some questions that have been bothering her and, as you stated earlier, he might let something slip.  Please make sure, however, that Vash has bridge clearance in case she needs to talk to me."

 

                "That's already been taken care of, sir."  Riker had anticipated that one earlier this morning.

 

                "Thank you, Will.  Is there anything else?"  he gave a wry grin and then sighed.  "I really do need to get these reports read."

 

                "No, sir, that was all," Riker smiled back sympathetically.  "I'm sure you can't wait to get back to such exciting reading."  With that he turned and left.

 

                Picard looked down at the reports, squared his shoulders and started to read.

 

..................................................

 

                Vash stood outside the door to the brig where the Alternate Picard was being held.  She took a deep, steadying breath and activated the door.  He didn't even look up when she entered the room.  She knew they were separated by an impenetrable force field, however, she couldn't prevent a shiver from racing up her spine at the sight of him.  He was doing calisthenics on the floor of the brig, stripped to the waist; she could see every inch of his magnificent, sweat-glistening torso.  He pounded out push-ups, one after another, his movements fluid and effortlessly graceful as the muscles in his arms and back rippled with tightly leashed strength.

 

                Vash's mind was a whirlwind.  Memories of the night she had spent in those powerful arms haunted her imagination, she could almost feel his large hands possessively roaming over her soft skin.  She toyed with the top button on her dress for a moment.   How could she feel this way?  She knew that this man wasn't her Jean-Luc but this man's sheer animal magnetism was overpowering.  With a great effort she brought her mind back to what she was doing there.

 

                "I knew you couldn't stay away from me for long, ma belle."  He continued his push-ups without missing a beat.

 

                "Why?  Why did you do that to me?  You know I'm not your Vash.  How could you deliberately seduce me like that, knowing that I thought you were someone else?"  That was the only thing Vash cared about at that moment.  Understanding what had happened to her in the last few days seemed as vital as breathing right then.

 

                "Did you?" came the slightly amused response from the floor.

 

                "Did I what?"

 

                "Think that I was someone else.  Couldn't you tell the difference between me and that insipid boyfriend of yours."  The alternate had stopped doing push-ups and was toweling his damp torso.  "Besides, from the sore muscles I had the next morning, I'd say you got quite a bit out of it."

 

                "Don't flatter yourself.  Jean-Luc is twice the man you'll ever be.  The only thing I don't understand is why you took the time away from your precious mission.  Especially since that little dalliance got you caught."

 

                Vash was desperately trying to keep the conversation away from what had physically happened between them.  Those images would forever be burned into her mind.  The alternate Picard gave her a small predatorial smile as his eyes hungrily traveled over every curve of her feminine silhouette. She could tell from the look on his face that, in his mind, she was no longer wearing anything at all.  She felt the intense heat from his desire-hardened, grey eyes coursing over her entire body like it were an actual physical caress.  With a great effort she managed to not cross her arms in front of her breasts.

 

                "You have never been a 'little' dalliance to me, Vash."

 

                "I have never been anything to you before that night, Captain, and I certainly don't intend to be anything to you ever again," Vash fired back.

 

                "Kitten, you have been everything to me," he told her suavely. "And, I think 'Captain' is a little formal, use my name.  I always did enjoy hearing you say my name."

 

                "Why don't you tell me about your Vash, since you can't seem to keep the two of us straight anyway.  I know how Jean-Luc and I met here.  How did you manage to get a copy of me in your universe to live with you for more than an hour without killing you in your sleep?" Vash countered.  Even though she wasn't sure she wanted to know, maybe it would give some insight into this man that she could use to her advantage.

 

                "I rescued her.  She was owned by a Ferengi slaver called Sovak.  I saw her with him on Risa during a holiday there and tried to purchase her for myself.  The dirty little troll refused to sell her to me so I killed him.  I took her on my ship and made her my woman.  She was very intelligent, for a woman, I enjoyed our discussions immensely.   Two years later, my chief medical officer decided to move up the ranks.  She rigged an explosion to kill my Vash in order to replace her in my bed.  I must admit that I'm pleasantly surprised to have found you again.  The similarities between you two are really quite amazing. Of course, she was a bit more unrestrained in bed than you, but I'm sure that, with a little effort, we can free your inhibitions."

 

                "Now that I know who you are, do you actually think there is a snowball's chance in hell that I'll ever share your bed again?  Not likely, Captain," she snapped.

 

                "I told you to use my name," the alternate Picard commanded, his powerful baritone reverberating with the demand.  "Furthermore, you will be sharing my bed, Vash.  You belong to me."

 

                "Wrong.  I belong to no one, and the only bed I'll be sharing is with my Jean-Luc," Vash vowed defiantly, her insides quivering.  He wasn't through with her yet.  That thought sent fear racing through her.  Why had she come here?  Exactly what had she thought to get out of seeing this man?

 

                "For the moment, ma belle.  For the moment."

 

                Even though he hadn't said anything that would give Riker a clue about the purpose of his mission here, she found that she couldn't stay a moment longer.  She fled the room, running down the corridor and into the nearest turbolift.  Once inside, she leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and took a deep steadying breath to calm her frayed nerves.

 

                "Computer, where is Captain Picard?"

 

                "Captain Picard is currently in his ready room."

 

                "Take me to the bridge."  She needed to see her Jean-Luc, to be held in the safety of his gentle embrace.

 

                The doors to the turbolift opened onto the bridge.  Vash burst from the lift and ran down the ramp and into the ready room without bothering to use the door chime to announce her arrival.

 

                Picard looked up with an annoyed expression on his face when he heard his ready room door open without permission.  He stood to chastise whomever was being so presumptuous when he saw Vash run into the room and around his desk to him.  She threw herself into his arms and buried her face into his shoulder.

 

                "I presume things did not go well with my alternate." Picard was concerned, this was not like Vash   He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to upset her this much, but his current dilemma was what to do at this point.  Hysterical females weren't exactly his forte.

 

                Vash didn't immediately respond.  She was trying not to cry, she had been doing far too much of that lately.  But she couldn't prevent the trembling that gripped her entire body

 

                Gradually, Picard felt the shaking in her body subside.  When he felt that she had calmed down enough, he drew away from her and gently moved her around to sit on the edge of his desk.  He put one hand under her chin and drew her face up to look into his.

 

                "Do you want to tell me about it?" he inquired gently.

 

                After relating the entire episode to Jean-Luc, Vash had calmed considerably.  She was now fairly angry at the impostor for yanking her chain like that and even more angry with herself for letting him.  She looked up into the face of her lover.

 

                "I don't see how I could have thought you two were identical, Jean-Luc.  He's so cold, so calculating.  His Vash was nothing more than a possession to him.  He never loved her, I don't think he's capable of loving anything.  Now he thinks he's found a way to replace the only possession anyone ever took from him.  I think he plans to take me with him when he completes his mission."

 

                "I won't allow that," Picard responded as he drew her into his arms in a protective embrace.  He couldn't imagine life without her in any universe.  He would never let anyone take her away from him again.  He drew in a deep breath and the sweet scent of her filled him.  After the last twenty-four hours, he didn't think he could still physically want her so much but he did.  His hands began to gently caress her back.

 

                "It's just really hard to imagine me being dead somewhere else."  Vash was still trying to comprehend everything about alternate universes and parallel timelines.

 

                "Let me show you just how grateful I am that you are alive right here and right now in this universe."   Picard smiled down at his lovely lady.  As fate would have it, she was properly positioned on his desk for what he had in mind. "Computer, secure the door to my ready room.

 

                "Why Captain Picard, are you propositioning me right here on your bridge?"  Vash looked up at him with a tone of mock shock and trying to maintain a wide-eyed, innocent look.

 

                "I believe that I am."

 

                "What took you so long?"

 

.....................................................

 

                Vash checked the time again on her chronometer, it was almost 1300 hours.  She put down the PADD she was holding and left cargo bay four.  Dr. Crusher's communiqué had requested her to present herself in Sickbay at 1300 hours.  She wasn't exactly sure why but it probably was some sort of check-up or something.

 

                Vash entered Sickbay and was directed to Beverly's office by a med tech working on scanning equipment.  As she walked up to the door to the office, she could see Beverly sitting at her desk with Deanna.  When Beverly saw her, she waved for Vash to come in.  Vash opened the door and saw, chocolate, not just a little chocolate, lots of chocolate.  There was virtually every variation of chocolate known to the Federation spread across Beverly's desk.  Beverly and Deanna were sitting at the desk with a spoon in one hand and a can of real dairy whipped cream in the other   Without a word, Deanna stood up and walked over to hand Vash a spoon and her own can of whipped cream.

 

                "Is this some sort of bizarre shipboard ritual?" Vash was somewhat bemused by the scene before her.

 

                "We thought you might need to talk," explained Beverly.

 

                "I see, and this is truth serum, right?"

 

                "No, just a little bite of heaven to soothe your worries and your cares."  Deanna smiled around a bite of 'Death by Chocolate.'

 

                "That definitely sounds like something I could use right now."  Vash settled into an empty chair by Beverly's desk and dug into what looked like an absolutely divine chocolate mousse.

 

                "I can sense some major worries and cares,"  Deanna didn't want to seem like she was prying, but after all she was a counselor.

 

                "You don't know the half of it," Vash sighed.

 

                "I hear through the grapevine that you went to see our friend in the brig this morning."  Beverly was just dying of curiosity.

 

                "Can I tell you two something personal?"

 

                Beverly and Deanna looked at each other with barely suppressed smiles, then looked back at Vash and nodded somewhat sympathetically.

 

                "Of course, that's exactly what we thought you might need."  Beverly didn't add that it was also exactly what Deanna and she had been hoping for.

 

                "I'm just so confused.  I've always known that there was a dark, primitive side to Jean-Luc, but to see that side in the flesh, so to speak, it's different."

 

                "How so?" Deanna was in counselor-mode at this point.

 

                "I don't know, scary, confusing, unsettling, arousing.  He's Jean-Luc in some ways but then he's not.  Jean-Luc has a primitive side but it's always tempered by gentleness.  Although he would probably die before admitting it, he's one of the most sensitive and passionate men I've met in my life.  The man in the brig doesn't have that side, he's all dark and primitive.  But why do I respond so much to that?  I love Jean-Luc for his mind and his heart as much as for his adventurousness.  How can I, an intelligent woman, respond so basely to a man so completely opposite of the Jean-Luc I fell in love with?"

 

                "Part of your dilemma could be the fact that he does look exactly like the Captain, Vash."  Deanna wanted to try to help Vash understand her feelings.  "Sights, sounds, and even smells play an important part in emotions.  He looks just like the man you love; that sight is going to stir the emotions you have for Captain Picard whether it's him or not.  His voice is exactly like the Captain's; that again is going to stir your feelings for him even though it's not him talking.  Many of your feelings are your feelings for the captain that this other man is simply bringing out."

 

                "But it's more than that.  I respond to his animal magnetism, yet at the same time he terrifies me."

 

                "Just like out of Gemini's Mistress, remember that one Deanna?"  Beverly interjected into the conversation.

 

                "Gemini's Mistress?"  Vash wasn't exactly sure what Beverly was referring to.

 

                "Oh, yes.  Gemini's Mistress is a romance novel where twin brothers are diametrically opposite in personalities, but are exactly alike in appearance.  One brother is a naval commander and the other is a pirate.  A young debutante falls in love with the bright young naval commander but is captured at sea by the other brother.  She has an interlude with the pirate, thinking that it's her love.  He sets her free and she returns to the other brother, not knowing what she's done.  Then she sleeps with the naval commander, finds out that it isn't the same man and has to decide which of them she really loves," Deanna summarized the plot of one of her favorite romance novels.

 

                "Which one did she choose?"  Vash wondered softly.

 

                "Is there still a doubt in your mind about which one you want?"  Deanna knew from her sense of Vash's emotions that there weren't any doubts, but she also knew that Vash needed to come to that realization for herself.

 

                "No, I've made my choice.  This is one Scarlet O'Hara that won't let Captain Butler walk out of Tara.  Still, why can't I stop thinking about what that other Picard was like in bed that night."

 

                Beverly and Deanna exchanged interested glances and sat forward slightly in their chairs.

 

                "Why do you think you should suddenly forget what was apparently a very memorable, if not pleasurable experience."  Deanna was trying not to get too personal, but the temptation was almost overwhelming.

 

                "Because he's not the man I love.  How can I remember a night I spent with the wrong man.  How could I have enjoyed that night so much when it wasn't the man I'm in love with?"  Vash was just as confused as ever.

 

                "The human body is designed to respond to certain stimulation.  The proper stimulation to certain parts of the body produces immensely pleasurable feelings whether it's what you want to feel or not.  The other Picard was obviously well-versed in female anatomy.  He knew what to do to give you the most pleasure."  Deanna was starting to sound downright clinical.

 

                "Besides, Jean-Luc is very sexy.  You thought it was him, so you were responding to what you thought was just his primitive side."  Beverly put her two cents worth into that explanation.

 

                "But why did I still feel that attraction this morning in the brig?  I knew that wasn't my Jean-Luc but I could still feel his overpowering magnetism even through the force field."  Vash felt as if she would never understand.

 

                "For the same reason the young debutante vacillated between the two brothers in the book after she found out that there were two of them.  And for the same reason we enjoy reading those novels,"  Beverly began.

 

                "Everyone has fantasies about doing the unexpected, the wild, the dangerous.  You of all people should understand that, Vash.  The dark brother in the book fulfilled the young girl's childhood fantasies about a man who would sweep her off her feet and carry her off into the sunset.  Those books talk of men who do what men now are discouraged from doing.  They are much more primitive and that's what attracts us to them.  That doesn't mean we'd want to live with any of them, however,"  Deanna finished the thought.

 

                "Oh, really?  And Worf isn't just a little unrestrained, wild, and primitive, Deanna?"  Beverly smiled trying to get the conversation onto a lighter track.

 

                Deanna merely flushed and took a large bite of chocolate cake liberally topped with whipped cream.

 

                "So I'm not a horrible person for being attracted to someone I know I don't want and would probably kill if I had to live with for any length of time."  Vash was beginning to feel better, or maybe it was just the chocolate working its magic.

 

                "Of course not, you're just human," Deanna smiled.  She could tell that Vash had resolved her internal conflict. Everything was going to work out fine.

 

                Jean-Luc Picard stood outside the door to Beverly Crusher's office watching Vash laughing and eating chocolate with Deanna and Beverly.   Shaking his head at the mass quantity of chocolate, he couldn't help wondering how such svelte women could eat so much, three full-grown Nausicaans couldn't eat that much in a single sitting.   He hadn't seen Vash laugh like that in years, certainly not with everything going on recently.  He knocked at the door to Beverly's office and walked in.  As he entered the room, the three ladies abruptly quieted and looked up at him with barely suppressed guilty grins.

 

                "Why does this scene make me nervous?"  Picard lifted an eyebrow and surveyed the scene with a bemused expression.

 

                Vash rose and walked over to him with her hands behind her back.

 

                "Because you are an observant and intelligent man, my love." With that Vash caressed his cheek with her left hand.

 

                "Flattery will get you anywhere, mademoiselle," Picard whispered to her with a suggestive wink.

 

                Vash winked back at Picard and withdrew her right hand from behind her back.  She deposited a dollop of whipped cream from her palm directly onto the tip of his nose and shrugged her shoulders.

 

                "Had to be done, sorry."

 

                And with that, Vash and a very amused Deanna made their way out of the office.

 

                "My compliments to Deanna and yourself for a very effective method of therapy, Doctor."  Picard was willing to suffer this mild indignity as long as Vash was back to her old self.

 

                "I'll pass that along, Captain," Beverly was smiling as she handed him a napkin to wipe the cream off of his nose.

 

                Picard followed Beverly out into sickbay and sat on the nearest exam table.  Beverly took out a medical tricorder and began to scan him.

 

                "Metabolic rate and neural activity have both returned to normal.  All traces of the muscle paralyzer have left your system much quicker than anticipated.  Must be quite an exercise regimen you've been on lately, Captain,"  Beverly added in an amused aside.

 

                "Something amusing, Doctor?" Picard asked wryly.

 

                "I just never imagined that you could be caught so easily."

 

                "Beverly, are you suggesting that Vash has gotten me, hook, line and sinker, so to speak?"  Picard raised an eyebrow.

 

                "Of course not, Jean-Luc," Beverly responded with mock horror.  "Especially since Vash already has you flopping around in the boat."  She grinned at him and turned to put away her equipment.

 

                "Is it really that obvious?"  Picard asked quietly, suddenly serious.

 

                Beverly smiled at him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I'm afraid it is.  And your friends are all very happy for you.  You deserve this, Jean-Luc, enjoy it.  Besides, we like her!  It was very gracious of you to provide Deanna and myself with such a wonderful new playmate."  With that she returned to her office to clean up the remains of the earlier chocolate fest.

 

                Crusher's parting comment left Picard rolling his eyes in pained exasperation.  Now, thanks to him, the dynamic duo had just become a trio.

 

...................................................

 

                Picard was making his way back to the bridge when his communicator beeped.

 

                "LaForge to Captain Picard,"  came the familiar voice of his chief engineer.

 

                "Picard here, go ahead Commander."

 

                "Sir, could you come down to engineering?"

 

                "I'm on my way."  Picard entered the nearest turbolift.  "Engineering."  A few moments later he was standing in Geordi's office down in engineering.  Riker walked in right behind him.

 

                "What have you got, Mr. LaForge?"  Picard asked.

 

                "I have good news and bad news," Geordi started.  "The bad news is that, although I have located the transponder that the alternate used to jump into our universe, we can't confiscate it. It's surgically implanted in his chest and is interconnected with his artificial heart.  We would kill him if we try to tamper with it."

 

                "I see, and the good news, Geordi?" sighed Picard.

 

                "Well, sir," answered LaForge, "we have been able to determine enough about the device to know that it can only work when the tacheon emissions in the system are at their highest. The tacheon fields in this system cycle every sixty hours.  He will only have a two hour window each cycle where the emissions are strong enough to use the transponder."

 

                "When's the next window, Geordi?" Riker inquired.

 

                "Tomorrow morning around 0700 to 0900 hours," Geordi replied.

 

                "So gentlemen, if our guest is planning something, he will probably make his move sometime between late tonight and early tomorrow morning," Picard summarized looking from Riker to LaForge.  "Is there any way that his transponder signal can be shielded to prevent escape?"

 

                "No sir, we don't know enough about the device."  Geordi thought for a moment.  "Well, I think I can construct a filter calibrated to that frequency and tie it in with the force field in the brig.  That might work."

 

                "I see, so we are back to expecting him to make his move between late tonight and early tomorrow morning," the captain grimaced.

 

                "That would be my guess, Captain," Geordi smiled.  "It might be a wise idea to let that pretty lady of yours in on this.  The device could be used to transport two people."

 

                "Indeed."  Picard looked at Riker and LaForge, somewhat amused.  "Did all of you have a senior staff meeting to discuss my personal life?"

 

                "Of course not!"  Riker managed to keep a straight face as he finished,  "that's what our weekly poker games are for."

 

                Picard shook has head, sighed and said, "Oh thank you, Number One.  I feel so much better now."  He gave a small smile and straightened his uniform.  "Carry on, gentlemen."  With that he went in search of Vash to relay the information to her.

 

..............................................................

 

                Picard walked into cargo bay four to find Vash standing behind her makeshift desk.  She was working busily on a PADD; she was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn't hear him come in.  He stood for a moment enjoying the view.  As he noticed the gleam of the gold buttons that ran down the front of her blue dress, he wondered if he could undo them by the sheer force of his imagination.  As he walked over to her, she looked up and smiled.  He leaned over the crate and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

 

                She whispered in his ear conspiratorially, "You want to try out my desk this time?"

 

                "Although that enticing idea had occurred to me, it's not why I'm here," he whispered back.  His voice returned to a normal tone.  "I needed to talk to you."

 

                "What is it?" she asked him, suddenly serious.

 

                "Geordi has informed me that the alternate only has a two hour window every sixty hours in which he can use his transponder to get back to the other universe.  However, the transponder can be used to transport two individuals."

 

                "Oh, Yippy Skippy!"  Vash's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And just when should I expect Captain Psychopath to try to carry me off into the interdimensional sunset."

 

                He smiled at her sense of humor.  "The next window is tomorrow morning between 0700 and 0900 hours.  Remember that Captain Psychopath, as you have so affectionately nicknamed him, is in the brig."  Then he said seriously.  "Still, I think it might be safer if you stayed in my quarters with me tonight.   If he is planning something, he will have to make his move sometime between late tonight and tomorrow morning."

 

                "Of course, Jean-Luc, I'll meet you there when you get off duty.  We can have a nice quiet dinner."  She smiled.  She knew what he had meant, but obviously it hadn't hit him yet how it had come out.  "But can I tell you something?"

 

                "Certainly."

 

                "I've had a lot of men over the years give me a lot of lines, but, Jean-Luc, I have to say that yours just took the cake.  Telling a woman that her safety and the safety of the universe depends on her staying the night with him is the lamest line I have ever heard."  Vash collapsed over the crate in a fit of giggling.

 

                He chuckled at himself as it hit him  "Damn it, woman, you knew what I meant.  I'll see you tonight."  He kissed the top of her head and left.  He could hear her giggling as he left.

 

....................................................................

 

                The next couple of hours seemed to drag by for Picard, finally his shift ended and he made his way to his quarters.   As soon as he walked in he knew Vash was already there.  The light setting was that of romantic candlelight, the table was set for a romantic dinner for two with fine china, crystal wine goblets, a bottle of his family's finest vintage, and a centerpiece consisting of a lit silver candelabra surrounded by several dozen red roses.  He had sent the roses to her earlier that day.

 

                "Hey, soldier," came Vash's soft, seductive whisper from behind him.  She had enjoyed watching him, the way his uniform emphasized the tightly-leashed strength contained in his corded muscles.  Jean-Luc's sleek, muscular build looked like the chiseled body of Apollo.  'Like Apollo, hell, this man is Apollo,' she smiled slightly to herself as she studied the tight muscles in his thighs and backside.  She was sure he had no idea just how sexy he looked in the close cut of his uniform pants.  She also knew he would never believe the number of women onboard who took great enjoyment in watching him walk the corridors of his ship.  He would never believe that it was him, and not Will Riker, that the women onboard fantasized and talked about.  The only thing the ladies onboard talked about more than his physique was that deep, sexy, resonating voice.  Sorry ladies, this fine stallion is all mine.

 

                Picard turned to see Vash standing in the doorway of his bedroom, she looked so bewitching that he forgot to breathe.  Her brunette hair fell in a soft cascade to her shoulders, framing her rose-petal lips and the flutter of her dark lashes.  Her delicate features and ivory skin were highlighted by the warm candlelight.  She wore a full length lounging gown made of black velvet, the glamorous wrap style of the gown created a plunging neckline and a high slit up the leg; its only fastening was a rhinestone clasp that sparkled against the velvet at her right hip.  She matched his height in the black spike heels that she wore.  She slowly sauntered across the room to him.

 

                "Thank you for the beautiful roses.  When you wrote that message on the card, is this what you had in mind, Mon Capitaine?" she asked in that soft whisper.  He was so sexy in that uniform.  Eventually, she was just going to have take it off of him.

 

                "It's perfect.  You look lovely."  Picard could barely speak.  He offered her his arm.  "Shall we?" He led her to the table, seated her and then himself.

 

                They spent nearly two hours talking and laughing over dinner about numerous topics.   The conversation waned and Vash took a sip of wine.  Picard noticed her watching him over the rim of the goblet.   He watched as she put the goblet down, running her index finger delicately around the rim before moving her hand down to the stem.  Lingeringly, she began stroking up and down the stem with her fingertips.  Picard felt his entire body tighten in response.  He moved his gaze away from the goblet to refocus his attention on her.  Wetting her lips seductively with just the very tip of her tongue, Vash released the glass and sat back in her chair.  She stretched, provocatively arching her back and then she crossed her legs in the opposite direction they had been in.  The movement caused the gown to fall open exposing her long legs up to mid thigh. He could just see a glimpse of the lace edging at the top of the black silk stockings she was wearing.  He stared at her, completely transfixed.  Every muscle in his body was taut with the desire that she was rousing in him.  The only Picard Maneuver he was thinking of tonight was how to remove that dress and get this alluring creature into his bed.  He forced his gaze back up to her face.  Her blue eyes were sparkling and she had a small, satisfied smile on her face.

 

                'That enchanting little siren,' Picard thought.  'She knows exactly what she's doing to me.  She's playing me like a virtuoso and I am reacting like a schoolboy.  Well, two can play at this game.'  Picard stood and, without a word, he took Vash's hand and pulled her up into his arms.  Teasing her with a brief almost-kiss, he barely brushed his lips to hers.  He could smell the delicate perfume she wore; it was more intoxicating than any wine.  Encircling her small waist with his powerful arms, he crushed her body to his.  He cherished her delicate features one by one dropping reverent kisses on her forehead, each eyelid, across both cheeks, and, finally, the tip of her nose.  He was pleased to hear her breathing become as shallow as his own as he caressed her perfect curves through the soft velvet of her gown.  All the while, he pressed tiny, heated kisses to her face and throat.  Again, he barely brushed his lips to hers.  Picard continued with small tentative kisses, his lips gently teasing hers.  When his mouth finally settled over hers in a deep, passionate kiss, he felt her body arch into his.  Picard always believed that a man should kiss a woman the way he would make love to her, starting off slow and letting the passion build.  He slipped his tongue past her lips to gently stroke and caress the warm, moist cavern of her mouth.  Vash wound her arms around to splay her hands against the back of his head to pull him closer.  He deepened the kiss and his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth.

 

                Desperate to ease the ache building inside her, Vash arched into him, feeling the entire length of his hard, muscular form against every inch of her own quickly-overheating body.  The way his mouth and tongue were possessing her threatened to completely undo her.  When he finally broke the kiss, Vash stared at him in wonder.  Her heart was pounding, she was flushed and her knees felt as if they were about to buckle under her.  Even through the uniform, she could feel the sinewy muscles in his arms, chest and back.  The clean, masculine scent of his aftershave mixed with the smell of fine wine on his warm breath.   The sheer virility and masculine presence of this man were almost overwhelming.  She felt as if she had just been made love to, and all he did was kiss her; she needed this man to make love to her.  Running a fingertip sensuously over his bottom lip, she murmured. "You are the only man in the universe who can make love to a woman simply by kissing her."

 

                "You're the only woman who could drive a man mad with desire simply by playing with a wine goblet,"  Picard retorted softly, kissing her fingertip.

 

                Then he swept Vash up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.  He set her down at the foot of the bed and watched, mesmerized, as she took a slow, seductive step back, unhooked the clasp of her gown, and, with a gentle roll of her shoulders, it slid off her in one fluid movement.  Vash's curvaceous silhouette was left wrapped only in a black, lace-and-satin merrywidow.  With every breath she took, the full curves of her breasts threatened to overwhelm the plunging neckline of their satin and lace confines.  The lace-trimmed, black, silk stockings he had glimpsed earlier enveloped the shapely length of her legs.  The merrywidow was fastened by tiny silk bows down the front.  Each bow acted as an irresistible lure beckoning to him.  With his pulse racing, his breath lodged in his throat at the sultry vision in front of him.

 

                "Breathe, Captain," Vash commanded in a lascivious tone, reaching up to trace his communicator with a fingertip.  She reveled in the ragged sound his breath made as he inhaled shakily.  Deftly, she unhooked the fastenings of his uniform jacket. She slid it off his shoulders and down his arms letting it drop.  She ran her hands over the sleek and powerful muscles in his arms and chest.  Her hands lingered of their own accord on the solid, bulging biceps of his upper arms. The tender strength they represented was an unrivaled source of amazement and arousal to her.  Her hands started to roam over hard expanse of his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles rippling under her ministrations.  Beneath her sensitive fingertips, she could feel his hardened nipples, daring her.  Brazenly, she rubbed her thumbs over the rigid nubs.

 

                Picard's broad shoulders jerked as he quickly controlled the shudder of need that ripped through his body.  Pulling her back into his arms, he captured her lips in another deep kiss.  As his tongue slipped past her parted lips to ardently explore her mouth, he felt his hardness grow with every passing moment.  His hands slid up her body to possessively caress the full curves of her breasts through the thin fabric, feeling her tremble at his touch.  The peaks hardened as his thumbs drew slow, deliberate circles around them. By the time he slid his mouth from hers to explore the soft skin of her throat, she was completely breathless.  Enjoying the sweet scent of her, he murmured, "And just who is short of breath now, mademoiselle?"

 

                "Please . . . Jean-Luc," Vash gasped, rolling her head back to bare her throat to the gentle onslaught of his mouth.  Her body arched into the heaviness as Jean-Luc's thumbs caressed her aching nipples.  He allowed her no respite.  When his lips reached the hollow of her throat, he rapidly flicked his tongue against her pulse point causing her to suck in her breath.  She shivered in anticipation from the erotic pressure from his hard arousal pushing against her through the fabric of his trousers.  She cupped his hips and pulled him closer.  "Oh God, I can feel you."

 

                Picard groaned at the sensations that the contact of her hips invoked in him.  Wanting to slow them both down, he pulled back slightly to rein in his increasing desires only to have Vash immediately go on the offensive.  She began slowly moving her hands down him, her teasing fingertips brushing over his coarse chest hair and down his abdomen as they inched their way toward the waistband of his trousers.  She slipped her hands lower to find the evidence of his need for her.  His hard length strained against the fabric of his trousers, throbbing against her small, talented hands as she caressed him.  He gazed down at her.  The playful expression on her lovely face left no doubt what the vixen had planned next and his body leapt at the idea; however, he had other plans.  Taking a deep breath, he gently captured her hands, stopping her from going any further. His bedroom baritone was tinged with a hint of amusement, "Oh no you don't, petite amie.  You used that delightful maneuver last night and almost caused me to forfeit the game."

 

                The idea that she could actually test the limits of this man's legendary self-control sent a highly-charged, erotic thrill coursing through Vash.  When he released her hands, she looked up into his handsome, chiseled features and cooed, "Johnny, doing that to you is such an delicious turn on, it's more than worth the risk."

 

                "Tonight, I want only to cherish you," Picard whispered fervently as he impatiently wove his fingers into the first satin ribbon that held the merrywidow closed.

 

                "Oh yes."  With a sigh Vash closed her eyes, her head falling back as she heard the warm timber of his voice and the answer it carried.  She felt butterflies in her stomach as Jean-Luc slowly untied each satin bow of the merrywidow in its turn.  The butterflies turned to shivers of desire as the satin and lace fell to the floor.

 

                "So beautiful," Picard rasped as his heated gaze swept over the enchanting nymph standing in front of him clad only in black high heels and silk stockings.  His attention was drawn to the soft ivory skin and lush roundness of her breasts.  As his hands gripped her tightly around her tiny waist, he lowered his head to imprison one rosy tip with his mouth.  She shuddered as he pulled and teased the taut nipple.

 

                As his mouth gently tormented first one breast then the other, Vash felt streaks of fire racing through her body from the tender peaks.  His mouth left her breasts to leisurely travel back up to her neck.  He encircled her waist with one arm, drawing her body tightly against him.  Her breasts were now crushed against the muscular expanse of his chest, the coarse hair searing her already inflamed nipples. His other hand moved around to cup her head, pulling her mouth to his in a fiercely passionate kiss.  His tongue plunged past her parted lips, staking claim to everything in its path.  Without breaking the kiss, Jean-Luc swept her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed, positioning himself between her long legs and stretching out full-length to cover her body with his own.  The hard length of his body weighted her down, crushing her body into the bedding.  Vash reeled from the onslaught of sensations.  Heated waves of arousal caused a tight knot of desire in her stomach by the time his mouth finally released hers.  Breathing hard, Vash looked up to see Jean-Luc raised above, studying her face.  Leaning in, he placed an open mouth kiss on the hollow of her throat, flicking his tongue very rapidly against the pulse point.  She closed her eyes and rolled her head back on the pillow, softly moaning.

 

                Picard's mouth made its way down the silken expanse of her skin to the full curves of her breasts.  His lips imprisoning the straining nipple of one of her breasts, he leisurely swirled his tongue over the taut peak.  Vash moaned his name as she held his head with both hands, pulling him even closer.  Savoring her impassioned reactions, he nipped at the hardened crest slightly before suckling strongly.  Only when he felt her writhing beneath his hot, moist assault did he allow one hand to drift lower until it reached its intended destination.  He gently cupped his hand over her, hearing her gasp as his fingertips barely brushed her desire.  What he discovered drove his own need up yet another notch.  His voice resonated over her skin as he rasped hoarsely, "You're wet."

 

                "Oh Jean-Luc," Vash whimpered, her arms now down at her sides, hands clutching at the sheets.  Her entire body felt as if it was made of liquid flames.  Jean-Luc's fingers stroked her with the skill of a maestro, taking her to near insanity. "Ohhh  . . . Please  . . . it's too much."

 

                "Not nearly,"  Picard breathed in her ear, nipping at the sensitive earlobe as he continued to arouse her, searching for her body's rhythm.  As her hips started to move against his hand, he growled with masculine satisfaction, "Right there, chere? . . .Oui . . .right there."

 

                "Not yet,"  Vash panted trying to hold back. "I need your body inside mine."

 

                Picard had never seen anything as erotically compelling as Vash at the peak of ecstasy.  As he continued arousing her overheated body, he rasped into her ear, "Just let it happen, chere."

 

                "I love you, Jean-Luc!" Vash cried out as the burning needs his questing hand was building threatened to overwhelm her.

 

                "Tell me again!" Picard commanded in an urgent whisper.  Vash's passionate admission drove his desire up to an almost unbearable level. "Say it, chere!"

 

                With every caress of his knowing fingers, waves of intense sensations flooded over Vash.  Jean-Luc was taking her closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy.  It was the sound of his voice, rough with his own sexual arousal, that finally sent her over.  As the waves of pleasure over took  her, she cried out, "I love you, Jean-Luc.  I love you!"

 

                Before the tremors could end, Vash felt the warm heat of Jean-Luc's mouth replacing his hand.  She whimpered mindlessly as he licked and softly kissed the core of her desire.  His tongue probed and caressed her, rebuilding the fire.  His hot mouth was relentless, tasting her deeply and insisting on total surrender.  His lips and tongue brought about a second, even stronger, release, right on the heels of the first.  Vash collapsed back against the soft bedding, trying to catch her breath and regain her senses as spasms continued to race through her body.  Her eyes fluttered open to find him hovering over her.  She gazed into his desire-hardened, steel-grey eyes.

 

                Bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders, he placed himself between her long, shapely legs.  From deep in his throat, he rasped softly, "I love you; promise me you'll never leave me."

 

                "I'll never leave.  I'm yours," Vash vowed breathlessly, reaching down between them to open his uniform trousers.  As her hands freed him, she pleaded,  "Please make love to me, Jean-Luc."

 

                Picard shuddered at the sensations caused by her small skillful hands.  He had to have her, now.  Entering her with one powerful thrust, he rumbled, "Vash . . . my beloved Vash."

 

                "Ohhhh Jean-Luc," Vash moaned as his throbbing length glided easily into her heated depths.  She matched him motion for motion as he drove into her hard and fast.  She could feel him bury himself deep inside her, filling her completely with each thrust.  Her hands stroked the tightly sculpted muscles of his arms, feeling the strong muscles ripple and bunch with every forceful movement of his body.  She cried out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her and his body violently plummeted into her own.

 

                A thin sheen of perspiration covered Picard’s body as he struggled to keep from losing himself to the burning pleasure of her body moving in complete synchronization with his own.  Vash’s sweet cries of passion spurred him on to even higher heights of desire.  Fiercely, he drove himself deep into her and the cadence became one of furious intensity as he demanded total possession of her body.

 

                "Now. . . Jean-Luc!  Ohhh . . . yes . . . now!" Vash screamed out as the overwhelming pressure mounting inside her finally detonated in an explosive release of wave after wave of ecstasy.

 

                Picard continued to drive his body into hers relentlessly.  He thrust himself into her with an ever increasing urgency.  With one last forceful thrust, he held himself deep inside her.  As his own powerful release ripped through him, he groaned aloud.  Collapsing onto her, Picard’s body was damp and his breathing labored from the physical exertion.  He let out a contented sigh as he felt her small hands traveling over the muscles of his back.  "I'm an old man with a fake heart; I'm just not up for all this activity anymore."

 

                "Well, you certainly fooled me . . .all three times today," Vash panted, giving his tight backside a playful slap.  "Artificial heart not withstanding, I would hardly call you an old man.  An older man perhaps, but you've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that you're not too old for this."

 

                Raising himself up on his elbows, Picard shook his head in bemusement, "From the moment I met you I knew you were going to be trouble."

 

                "You're a man who can handle trouble; very well, I might add," Vash teased with an arched eyebrow.   Suddenly serious, she continued softly. "I love you."

 

                "I love you," came his passionate response.  He smiled and his tone became gently teasing.  "So, why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?"

 

                "Oh, I don't know.   Maybe because this 'sexy little mattress kitten' just seduced Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the most sought-after man in the entire Federation," she sighed happily.  "Did he really call me that?"

 

                "Yes, and what do you mean you seduced me?"

 

                "Well, I did," Vash softly laughed. "Look at yourself, my love.  You were so desperate to have me that you still have on your uniform pants and boots."

 

                Picard chuckled.  She was right.  "It wasn't fair.  You cheated."

 

                "How?"

 

                "All that expensive lingerie.  No mere mortal man could fight against all that silk, satin, and lace."

 

                "I told you earlier, I meant business.  This time I'm playing to win."

 

                "Then, I'm a very lucky man."

 

                "Jean-Luc"

 

                "Yes"

 

                "It's late, Please get undressed and come to bed."

 

..................................................

 

                Early the next morning, Picard straightened his uniform and walked out of the bedroom to join Vash and Beverly Crusher for breakfast.  He stepped into the main room and looked at the two ladies seated at the table with their heads together, giggling like schoolgirls.  He snuck up behind them.

 

                "What's this?" he asked in a deep, teasing tone, as they tried to hide a rather well-worn book.  He leaned down and just managed to snag it from Vash.  "Gemini's Mistress?  Oh, this sounds like real classic literature."

 

                "It's just for fun, Jean-Luc.  Of course, it's not a classic like those Dixon Hill novels of yours," Beverly said in a teasing tone   Then she quoted one of the more cheesy lines from Dixon Hill.  "'She was a redhead to make a priest think twice.'"  Then she dramatically tossed her own red hair.

 

                "Beverly and Deanna thought since I've lived the plot, maybe I should read it," Vash explained as she noticed him reading the plot summary on the back.  She held her hand out for the book.

 

                Picard wasn't ready to hand it over.  "It's certainly well-read.  Maybe I should just see what all the uproar is about."  He let the book fall open to the passage they had been reading.

 

                "That's not a good idea . . ."  Both women started to say, as he read the passage.

 

                "Sacre Bleu!" he exclaimed.  His face had flushed so red that he matched the crimson of his uniform.  "You ladies are all reading this?"  He finally managed to gasp.  "This is pornographic!"

 

                Vash looked at Beverly with her eyes wide.  "He says that like it's a bad thing," Vash laughed as she took the book from him. "We did try to warn you, Mon Capitaine, but you wouldn't listen."

 

                Joining in Vash's amusement, Beverly looked at Jean-Luc, "She's definitely a keeper," she managed between giggles.

 

                With both of them still giggling at his shocked reaction, Picard decided that it was time to exercise the better part of valor.  "If the two of you will excuse me, I'm going to go to work."  He left.  He could eat breakfast in his ready room.

 

..........................................................

 

                Worf quietly entered Deanna's quarters.  He listened, but only heard the soft sounds of her sleeping.  He smiled to himself, a breakfast tray in his hands.  He had ordered her favorite breakfast, Belgian waffles with strawberries and tons of whipped cream.  He also had orange juice and a cup of her favorite mocha coffee on the tray.  In the center of the tray was a silver bud vase with a single red rose surrounded by baby's breath.  He walked into the bedroom, sat the tray on the bedside table and leaned over to gently brush her lips.  Deanna stirred, stretched, and opened her eyes to find a smiling Klingon leaning over her.

 

                "Worf, what are you doing here?  And just what time is it?" Deanna was still trying to wake up.  Then she saw the breakfast tray.  "Oh Worf.  That is so sweet, a rose and my favorite breakfast.  What did I do to deserve this?"

 

                "Something I hope you'll do again right now."  He leaned over to claim her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.  Immediately, Deanna responded.  She reached up to pull Worf deeper into her own body.  Mindlessly, she moved sinuously against him.  Worf threw his head back to draw in a deep breath.  He lowered his head again to nibble at the sensitive spot on her neck just below her ear.  At her sharp gasp, he growled into her skin.  His hands slowly drew the covers back to expose her soft body to him.  Worf drew back slightly to gaze down at her in the bright red, satin negligee that she had been sleeping in.  Her full breasts strained at the sheer fabric as Deanna tried to bring her breathing back under control.

 

                Deanna protested at the loss of contact and pulled Worf back down to her.  He moved onto the bed, still fully clothed, to cover her body with his own.

 

                "Your breakfast is getting cold, Deanna," Worf whispered raggedly in her ear.

 

                "We're just getting warmed up,"  Deanna responded succinctly as she drew his face down to hers for another kiss.

 

.................................................

 

                Riker paced back and forth in front of the alternate's cell.  He had not expected the impostor to be cooperative and the alternate was not letting him down; moreover, he seemed to be mildly amused.

 

                "It's almost 0700, Commander Kerrgan disappeared well over 24 hours ago," Riker sighed,  "We know that you killed him.  Security at Planitia  have found phaser burns in his office."

 

                "Very good, Commander.  You are a very thorough investigator."  From the smirk on the alternate's face, Riker knew that it wasn't meant as a complement.  "Pity that my Riker isn't as diligent; but then again, he does have more fire.  He's willing to take risks.  I'm sure that he would jump at the first chance to command-"

 

                "Enough."  Riker's tone was firm   "Don't bother with insults.  I am a Starfleet officer and as for fire, just wait."

 

                The alternate stood and looked Riker in the eye.  "Number One, I never meant to insult you.  I meant to congratulate you, very few have had the honor of keeping me their prisoner."  The impostor paused and smiled, "And none have done so for very long."

 

                A moment later a shimmering transporter beam enveloped the alternate.  Riker immediately opened a channel to the bridge. "Riker to bridge.  Intruder alert!  The impostor has escaped.  He was just beamed out of the brig."

 

...............................................................

 

                Data  quickly reacted to the first officer's message. "Understood, Commander."

 

                The second officer scanned his sensor panel.  "I have a transporter beam in cargo bay two."  He opened a channel. "Security team to cargo bay two."

 

                The android's face was suddenly twisted with confusion.  His sensor panel flickered again.  This time the panel revealed a transporter signal in Ten Forward.  "Security team to Ten Forward."

 

                Picard walked over to stand behind his second officer.  The sensor panel was soon filled with the orange glow of transporter signals.  In seconds, the screen was a solid shade of orange.

 

                "Data,"  Picard said, "Report."

 

                "Unknown,"  Data replied. "It appears that the impostor has generated a program which creates false transporter signals.  It is likely that our internal sensors have also been affected."

 

                "Can you filter out these images?" the captain questioned.

 

                "Not presently, sir," the android scanned the screen.

 

                "Wonderful,"  Picard paced the length of the bridge and then stopped.  "Yellow alert."

 

......................................................

 

                Barclay rubbed his eyes and re-entered the sequencing code.  This wasn't right, everything had been prepared last week.  The sequencing code HAD to be wrong.  He cleared his throat. "Computer, access Barclay file 121."

 

                "Unable to comply.  Warp coils are in operation."

 

                The lieutenant shook his head.  "No they're not," he replied in a sarcastic sing-song voice.  "We're still in dry dock.  Stupid-"

 

                "Problem, Reg?"

 

                Barclay turned to face Geordi LaForge.  He had not expected the commander to be in the engine room quite so early.  He had been trying to impress Geordi with his programming skills. Instead he had embarrassed himself . . . again.

 

                "Well uh,"  Barclay stammered, "The sequencing program isn't working properly.  I-i-t-t says that w-w-e-e are preparing to jump into warp.  T-t-h-h-at can't be right."

 

                The engineer shrugged and sat down at the console.  "Let's have a look."  He surveyed the readouts, "Are the sequencers in order?"

 

                Barclay nodded and began to speak but stopped.

 

                Geordi smiled.  "You have to learn to speak up, Reg.  If you want to get noticed, you have to take a little initiative."

 

                "All right, sir."  Barclay's voice was a little more confident.  "The engines are generating a pre-warp field similar to the Soliton Wave tested a few years ago by Ja'Dar at Bilana III.  I am not certain what initiated it, but my calculations say that we have approximately thirty minutes before we go into warp."

 

                The commander looked at his subordinate.  "I think you're right, Reg.  The only thing that could cause that is a misalignment of the warp coil."  He paused, "Theoretically a nearby transporter beam could cause that during coil initialization but we have the transporters locked down."

 

                "The frequencies of the transporter signals used by the federation couldn't create such an anomaly.  Perhaps a Klingon or Romulan signal..."  Barclay's voice trailed off.

 

                "Or the Empire," Geordi said under his breath.

 

                Riker hurried onto the bridge from the turbolift.  He could see from the look on the captain's face that he was concerned.

 

                "Do you have a transporter signal on our prisoner?"  the first officer inquired.

 

                "More than we anticipated, Number One, my double is playing games with us.  Mr. Data has located more than 4,000 signals onboard the Enterprise."  Picard was coldly fuming.  "I have placed a security guard with Vash, he may try to reach her.  I am also worried about the ship, without our security fields in place, he could sabotage this vessel from virtually any point onboard.  That's assuming he stayed onboard.  Alert Planitia as to our current situation."

 

                Geordi's voice broke in.  "LaForge to bridge.  We have a problem down here.  Has anyone used the transporter recently?"

 

                "As a matter of fact, yes," Riker curtly replied, "Our prisoner used it to escape.  He's still at-large."

 

                "The signal has created a warp coil misalignment.  The ship is generating a warp field as we speak.  Sir, we'll go into warp in thirty minutes"

 

                "Red Alert!" shouted Riker.

 

                Picard looked at Data. "Is there any way to re-align the coil?"

 

                Data looked up from the screen.  "Such a misalignment has occurred only once in the history of Starfleet.  Eighty years ago a Constitution class vessel-"

 

                "To the point, Commander."  Picard wasn't in the mood for a long-winded history of warp coil mishaps.

 

                "The frequency of the transporter beam.  It has broken the integrity of the dilithium chamber.  Once we have the exact frequency, we can compensate for the misalignment in the coil by synthesizing a re-crystallization within the chamber."

 

                Riker reeled.  If communications was dull, theoretical warp fields was worse.  "But, there's more than 300 billion transporter frequencies.  There's no way we can find the right one in time."

 

                "Yes there is," Picard stated, "Find my double!"

 

...............................................

 

                Deanna arched her shoulders as Worf began sliding the spaghetti straps of her nightgown from her shoulders one at a time, with his tongue.  He laid a trail of hot steamy kisses and love bites down both of her arms before turning his attention to the tantalizing vision he had just exposed.  His hands drew the nightgown up to bunch around her hips as they moved to caress her in a most evocative manner.

 

                "Riker to Worf, report to the bridge."

 

                "Acknowledged, on my way. " Worf stood on unsteady legs and leaned over to brush a final kiss on Deanna's forehead.

 

                "Will Riker, you're a dead man," Deanna panted.  She sat up and pulled her nightgown back up.

 

                "Duty calls," Worf had to chuckle as he placed the breakfast tray across Deanna's lap.  "We'll have to pick this up later."

 

..............................................

 

                Barclay wiped his forehead in exasperation.  Fifteen minutes had passed since Commander LaForge had left him alone at the observation console.  His eyes darted across the screens.  Life support was failing on deck three!  False alarm.  The ship was preparing itself for an emergency saucer separation!  Another false alarm.  He tried to calm himself.

 

                "Barclay to Commander LaForge,"  his voice wavered, "I seem to be having some difficulties with the internal regulatory systems.  They appear to be . . . malfunctioning."

 

                Geordi's voice responded over the intercom.  "Just keep working on that transporter frequency, Reg.  I'm trying to work the docking clamps from the hull.  We have teams trying to phaser them off, but that'll take at least three hours.  If we go into warp now, the ship will be ripped apart and destroy the station."

 

                Destroy the station.  Barclay's mind reeled.  Nine minutes and counting.  Even if the docking clamps were operational . . . his mind wandered.

 

                "Reg," Geordi's voice snapped him back into reality

 

                "I-I-m sorry, sir," he stammered, "I am just doing everything wrong.  It's like I'm thinking backwards."

 

                Backwards.

 

                "Computer," the Lieutenant commanded, "Call up the schematics on the dilithium chamber."

 

                'Of course', he thought.  We can push the wave particles back into the chamber.  A pre-warp cannot be generated inside a dilithium chamber.  The reaction must take place outside the chamber to infuse with the matter/anti-matter.  His solution wouldn't last long, however.  The imminent reaction would only be delayed for an hour or two.  At that point the ship would be propelled at speeds greater than warp nine.

 

                "Commander,"  Barclay opened a channel to LaForge, "I think I can delay the warp field buildup.  But I'm not sure if it will work."

 

                "Reg," Geordi's voice was stressed, "I am willing to try almost anything at this point.  What more could go wrong?"

 

                Barclay hesitated.  "Well, if it works, my plan would destroy the ship in an entirely different way but not for another hour or two."

 

...................................................

 

                Worf looked to the captain.

 

                "Sir, I have Commander LaForge."

 

                "Go ahead."  Picard sat down in the captain's chair.

 

                "Sir, Barclay has came up with a way of delaying the warp field buildup.  We're feeding the particles back into the dilithium chamber.  That will buy us about ninety more minutes. There is a drawback,  If we don't come up with that frequency within ninety minutes, we will not only jump into warp, we may be the first ship in history to achieve true transwarp."

 

                Data looked at Picard and Riker.  "That possibility would result in the instantaneous vaporization of this ship."  The android then smirked and looked up at Riker,  "Out of the frying pan?"

 

                "And into the fire," Riker completed the phrase.  "Geordi. Is there any way to clear the internal sensors.  We are now reading ship-wide failures."

 

                "My instruments concur with yours," the engineer responded, "My guess is that our intruder programmed in these false signals to keep us from being able to locate him.  As far as engineering is concerned, the ship is fine.  Relatively speaking, that is."

 

                Worf spoke up.  "Recommend that a security team be posted in engineering.  The intruder may try to further disrupt ship systems."

 

                Picard nodded.  "Agreed, Mr. Worf.  Make it so.  Also, post a security guard at each of the transporter stations.  I don't care if the transporters are locked down, I want someone on guard."

 

..........................................

 

                "I really hate all this red tape!"  Vash complained out loud to nobody.  Alone in cargo bay four, except for the security guard posted outside, she was studying lists of equipment that had just been transferred from the shipyard.  Due to the fact that the cargo bay had not been integrated with the ship's main computer, Vash wasn't aware of the red alert or the reasons for it.            She arched her back and then straightened her formfitting jumpsuit.  It resembled a Starfleet uniform with black shoulders and black pants, but the tunic was hot pink with a low scoop neck.  Jean-Luc had found the style amusing, to say the least.  She had told him that the mock Starfleet style was the latest trend.  He had laughingly assured her that Starfleet had never and would never use hot pink in a uniform and he had only been half joking when he asked if she could actually breathe in it.  She looked at the time, 0800 hours.  Only one more hour left in the alternate's window, she went back to studying the lists.

 

                She sensed, rather than heard, the door open.  She didn't need to look up; she knew it was him.  She forced herself to stay calm and keep her eyes on her paperwork until he reached the desk.  The alternate walked around the corner of her desk.  She stood up straight and looked him in the eye.  Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst.  Without a word, the alternate stepped in front of her to use her computer.  She immediately realized that the material on the screen was ship schematics of some kind.  She slowly stepped back to nonchalantly lean against the wall, using her shoulder to discreetly open the comm channel to the bridge.

 

                On the bridge Picard was leaning over Data's shoulder at ops, watching as Data tried to chase down which of the thousands of ghost images was the real alternate.  LaForge and Riker were busy with the massive ship-wide failures caused by the alternate's transporter activity.  Worf was busy at his station readying his security teams.

 

                "Mr. Worf there's no reason to send your teams anywhere, until we have somewhere definite to send them," Picard told his security chief.

 

                Riker walked down the ramp to stand next to his captain. "We better locate him quickly, sir.  Geordi estimates one hour until we go into warp, and in dry-dock there is nowhere to go.  That frequency is our only hope."

 

                "I'm aware of that, Number One."  Picard straightened his uniform as he looked at his first officer.

 

                "Sir, I have an open commlink in cargo bay four," Worf called from his station.

 

                "On audio, Commander," came Picard's reply.

 

                Over the comm came Vash's surprisingly calm voice.  "I don't suppose you are going to tell me just how the hell you got out of that cell?"

 

                Picard looked over at his first officer and smiled.  Riker was grinning as he practically cheered, "Way to go, sweetheart!"

 

                The alternate's voice came over the comm, "Of course, ma belle, as soon as we make our escape."

 

                Picard gestured for Riker and Worf to follow him as he started for the turbolift.

 

                "What do you mean we, Kemosabie?"  Vash sounded indignant. "Is that some kind of order?"

 

                "Of course," came the alternate's reply.

 

                At this Riker saw his captain pause, look up at the ceiling and roll his eyes.  Picard looked almost amused, he knew what was coming next.

 

                Vash's angry voice rang out over the comm.  "As I am forever tired of telling Jean-Luc, Captain,"  Riker smiled and watched as his captain mouthed along silently with Vash's next statement. "I don't follow orders!"

 

                Picard, Riker, and Worf entered the turbo lift.

 

                "Deck thirty-eight," Worf ordered.

 

                Riker looked at Picard and smiled innocently.  "I take it we have heard that line before?"

 

                Picard looked at his second in command and allowed a brief smile.  He shrugged his shoulders,  "Let's just say it's one of her perennial favorites."

 

.............................................

 

                The Alternate Picard turned to look at Vash as he slipped the disk with the schematics into the waistband of his uniform pants   So, she doesn't take orders.   It was obvious that his counterpart had been very indulgent with her.  It was time this lovely but assuming wench learned her place.  When he took a step toward her, she instinctively tried to shrink back further.  That was when he noticed the open commlink.  He forcefully slammed his open palm against the wall destroying the commlink and effectively closing the channel.  He now had her pinned between himself and the wall.  His palms lay flat against the wall on either side of her shoulders, imprisoning her with his muscular arms.  His hungry gaze took in how her jumpsuit molded itself to her curvaceous silhouette like a second skin.

 

                Vash couldn't help her startled reaction at the sound of his palm hitting the wall next to her with such great force; the power contained in those arms never ceased to amaze her.  Completely trapped between the wall and his hard, lean, muscular form, she found it impossible to ignore his pure animal magnetism.  This man terrified her, so why was she was still attracted to him?  She found herself completely spellbound by his imposing presence, which revealed itself in his chiseled features, his steel grey eyes and the firm set of his mouth.  She suddenly felt like a small bird that had fallen victim to a king cobra's stare.  He leaned in closer to her.  She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face.  Her arms down at her sides, Vash's palm lay on the corner of her desk and, as she gripped the corner of the desk to steady herself, a computer disk threatened to cut into the edge of her hand.

 

                "You will follow my orders."  His masterful voice was a stern whisper.

 

                When he leaned in to kiss her, Vash turned her face away.  She had to remember, despite the physical appearance, this was not her Jean-Luc.  Her voice was barely a whisper as she swore, "Never!"

 

                "You have no choice, ma chere," the alternate Picard snarled, moving to entangle one hand in the hair at the back of her head.  He pulled, forcing her to face him.  He brought his mouth down on hers brutally in a savage kiss.  His tongue forced its way between her lips to ravage every corner of her mouth.

 

                Vash brought her arms up to his chest in a vain attempt to push him away.  The alternate wrapped his other arm around her waist crushing her to him.  His strength was overpowering, making any escape impossible; but for Vash, the worst part of the situation was the way her body instinctively responded to his primal maleness.  As his lips and tongue continued to attack hers, she felt her pulse and breathing quicken.  The natural masculine scent of his body and the feel of the hard muscular expanse of his chest under her hands inflamed her own base needs.  A surge of arousal caused the crests of her breasts to harden.  The alternate finally broke off the kiss, leaving her gasping for air.

 

                "I told you that you had no choice," the alternate Picard informed her huskily.  He had felt her response.  Spanning his hands across her tiny waist, he held her pinned to the wall.  He watched as the soft curves of her breasts rose and fell with each breath; and with each breath, those same soft curves threatened to escape the low neckline of her jumpsuit.  He slid his hands up her delicate frame to cup her breasts, caressing them possessively.  Rubbing the stiff peaks with his thumbs, he heard her try to suppress a moan as she fought her body's own responses.  The alternate lowered his mouth to the sensitive spot where Vash's neck met her shoulder, his hands moving to find the roundness of her derriere.  Sucking strongly and leaving the tender skin bruised, he yanked her roughly against him.  He rasped, "Your lovely body knows who's master.  You're wet, aren't you, kitten?"

 

                "No,"  Vash whispered, more to deny her own reactions rather than his taunting.

 

                "You're lying!" he hissed.  "Once we're back on my ship, I'll teach you what happens when you lie to me."

 

                Vash thought wildly, 'How could I respond like this?'  She could feel the alternate's hard arousal pressed against her.  Then it hit her, it was a physical response.  Deanna had said that the body had built-in responses to certain physical stimulation.  Vash realized her body was simply responding to the physical presence of Jean-Luc Picard, the feel of his body, the sound of his voice, his appearance, his taste, his smell.  'Vash, you dingy broad, we're talking pheromones!'  she mentally chastised herself.  'The sword can cut both ways, use this arrogant Neanderthal's overactive libido for your own advantage.'

 

                "Oh yes," Vash moaned, as she felt him press heated kisses down her throat to the low neckline of her jumpsuit.  She arched toward him and sighed, letting her hands run over his entire body, from his broad shoulders to his chest, and down to his waist and thighs.  As she ran her hands up and down around his waist and thighs, she felt the disk in his waistband.  Jackpot!  She kept up her exploration, moving back up to his chest and heard the alternate groan as he felt her hands over him.  'Good boy, Captain, now just relax.'  Cupping her hips in his hands, he moved back up to claim her mouth in a possessive kiss.  Instead of fighting him, she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to probe the moist cavern.  She seductively arched the entire length of her supple form into him. One of her hands played with his chest while she let the other drop to the desk, palming a disk.

 

                She moaned into his mouth while slowly bringing her other hand back up to his chest.  Brazenly, she deepened the kiss, driving her tongue past his in her own erotic exploration of his mouth.  As they kissed, she let her hands leisurely slide down to his waist. Switching the disks was a piece of cake.  She reminded herself to thank Sovak for teaching her how to be a top-notch pickpocket. It was a handy talent.  Then she brought her leg up so that her thigh was at his hip.  As he ran his hand from her thigh to her hip, she slipped the disk down into her boot.  She smiled inwardly, 'he's so far gone, he doesn't have a clue'.  The alternate pushed her harder against the wall; with his hands on her hips he started to kiss her more forcefully.  She heard the door.  'Thank God, here comes the cavalry'.

 

                The door to the cargo bay slid open and Picard ran in before Riker or Worf could catch up.  The alternate spun around and drew a phaser with lighting speed.  He fired at the door panel which exploded in a shower of sparks.  With the door controls destroyed, the three of them were locked in and any reinforcements were locked out.  Vash tried to make her escape, but the alternate had one arm around her waist holding her fast; the other held a phaser pointed directly at Picard.

 

                "Vash, are you all right?"  Picard asked, noticing her swollen lips and the tell-tale bruise marring the skin of her neck from the alternate's manhandling.

 

                "Yes," she managed a small smile to reassure him.

 

                "Let her go, and give me the transporter frequency," Picard forcefully commanded his alternate.

 

                "Now, why would I do such a thing?" the alternate asked snidely.

 

                "If you don't the ship will go into warp while still in dry-dock and explode, killing everyone.  You will lose Vash all over again, in another explosion.  This time in one you caused," Picard answered.

 

                "But you see, we're leaving," the alternate taunted.

 

                "No you're not, Commander LaForge has found a way to block your transponder signal.  There is no escape,"  Picard was bluffing big time.  Riker's poker games were starting to effect him.

 

                "You're bluffing; that would mean condemning this magnificent creature to death and you wouldn't do that," the alternate replied, tilting his head toward Vash.

 

                "To save her from sexual slavery, I would."  Picard stared at the alternate with his most stoic expression.  As noble as that reason had sounded, Picard knew the alternate was right. He just hoped the alternate didn't know that.  Picard glanced at Vash.  She caught his glance, smiled bravely and mouthed 'I love you.'

 

                "You see Captain, I've taken your ship, your woman, and now I will take your life."  The alternate pointed the phaser at Picard.

 

                "NO!" Vash shouted.  She suddenly threw her entire weight against the alternate   The alternate lost his balance, releasing his grasp on both Vash and the phaser.  The phaser went flying across the room.  The alternate lunged to grab Vash as she escaped his hold.  Picard rushed the alternate, imposing himself between the alternate and Vash and he slammed his shoulders into the rib cage of his alternate.  The force of his attack drove himself and the alternate to the ground away from Vash. The alternate tried to choke Picard with both hands around his neck.  Picard brought his arms up to break the hold and slammed his opponent's chin backward with his open palm.  The force of the blow caused the alternate's head to snap back, hitting the floor with a sickening thud, but it wasn't enough to stop him.  The alternate countered with a right cross that connected with Picard's left temple.  The two captains rolled on the floor in a life-and-death wrestling match.

 

                Vash watched, frozen in place, as the two men tried to kill each other with their bare hands.  Then she noticed the phaser lying on the floor, she also noticed that the two men had rolled passed it several times.  She couldn't risk the alternate retrieving it so she cautiously made her way over to it.

 

                The alternate noticed her movement out of the corner of his eye.  He suddenly changed tactics and threw Picard from him then dove at Vash, tackling her around the legs just as her hand closed around the phaser.  The alternate wrenched the phaser from Vash and stood, hauling her up with him.  The alternate turned and faced Picard with Vash in one arm and the phaser in his other hand.  Both men were winded as they stood staring each other down.

 

                "Looks like we're back to square one.  Au revoir, Mon Capitaine."  He raised the phaser, setting it to its highest setting, and then pointed it at Picard.  Vash gasped and closed her eyes tight, not wanting to watch.  A distinct whine came from the phaser as the alternate tried to fire it.  Instantly, both Picards knew what was happening,  the phaser was overloading and was about to explode.  The alternate knew he wouldn't even have time to activate his transponder before the explosion.

 

                Picard and the alternate communicated with a single glance.  The alternate hurled Vash to Picard's waiting arms.  Picard flung Vash and himself to the deck, covering her with his own body.  The alternate lunged at a trash receptacle in the wall, ripped it open and threw the phaser down into it.  He closed the unit, bracing it shut with every ounce of strength he had.  The explosion rocked the whole deck.  The alternate was thrown halfway across the bay to the floor, the force of the impact breaking his back in several places.  His broken, bleeding body lay, half of his ribcage collapsed and bleeding profusely from several wounds where shards of twisted metal had pierced his body.

 

                Data forced the doors open and ran inside with Riker, Worf, and a security team following close on his heels.  Riker and Data swiftly made their way over to Picard and Vash.

 

                "Sir, are you both all right?"  Riker asked as he assisted the captain to his feet.  Data had already moved to help Vash to her feet.

 

                "Fine, Number One," Picard responded; then he noticed his alternate's form lying on the floor not too far from them.  It was disturbing to see what looked to be his own body mangled on the floor.  Mon Dieu, if it bothered him what would it do to Vash, he turned and was about to block her view, but it was too late.  He heard her take in a deep breath and all the blood drained from her face.

 

                Leaning against Data, Vash tried to clear her senses.  Her head was swimming from chaos of the explosion and then her eyes fell on the body lying on the deck.  As she wrenched herself away from Data, a scream ripped from deep inside her, "Oh God . . .No, Jean-Luc . . . No!"

 

                Vash took a few steps and fell to her knees next to the alternate sobbing uncontrollably.     Picard pulled her away and up into his arms.  He cupped her chin in his hand and raised her face to his.  "It wasn't me, Vash.  I'm right here."

 

                Vash looked into his gentle grey eyes and relief flooded over her features.  As she laid her head on his shoulder and tried to bring her tears under control, she whimpered, "I thought it was you.  Oh Jean-Luc, I thought you were dead."

 

                "I know you did, it's all right," he whispered soothingly as he led her away from where the alternate laid.  Beverly Crusher raced into the bay and over to the alternate, who was regaining consciousness.

 

                Data walked up to them, a concerned expression on his face.

 

                "Would you see to Vash, Data?"  Picard looked at Vash questioningly.

 

                "Go ahead.  I'll be fine with Data," Vash assured him.  Data offered his arm. She took it and managed a small smile at the android.  "Thanks, Data."

 

                Picard watched as Data guided Vash across the room to her desk.  Data talked to her calmly as he checked her computer.  Picard made his way over to the alternate.  Dr. Crusher was scanning the alternate.  Riker and Worf stood near by.

 

                "I don't know if he'll survive,"  Dr. Crusher answered his question before he could even ask it. 

 

                Picard knelt down next to the alternate.  "You must give me the frequency or Vash will die anyway." Picard warned.

 

                The Alternate Picard nodded, he had no intentions of destroying his treasured courtesan.  He would escape with the ship schematics and simply return for Vash at a more opportune time.

 

                Picard hit his commbadge. "Picard to engineering."

 

                "Go ahead, sir," came La Forge's voice.

 

                "The code is Picard Alpha Phi, frequency 93019.72,"  the alternate spoke into Picard's commlink.

 

                After a tense minute, everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Geordi's voice came back over the comm.

 

                "Got it, warp drive is powering down."

 

                "Acknowledged, Mr. LaForge.  Cancel red alert." Picard closed the comm channel.

 

                The alternate had reached up with one hand and pushed hard against his chest, activating the transponder.  He grabbed Picard's uniform collar and pulled himself closer to Picard's face.

 

                "You may have won the battle, but the war is far from over.  I will be back for her," he snarled.  He let go of Picard's uniform, laid back on the deck and disappeared in a flash of light.

 

                Picard stood up and looked around at his officers.  "That was probably an empty threat made by a dying man.  I would appreciate it if it were not mentioned to Vash, it would only frighten her.  However, Mr. Worf, please note it in the ship's security logs."

 

                "Yes, sir," Worf nodded to his captain.  Worf went over to begin debriefing his security team.

 

                "Speaking of Vash, I should go see if she needs any medical attention, since my last patient decided he didn't want to stick around for my services," Crusher smiled and shrugged her shoulders as she made her way over, tricorder in hand, to where Vash was standing.

 

                "I'm sure it wasn't personal, Doctor,"  Picard called after her.

 

                Data left Vash with Beverly and walked over to where Picard and Riker were talking.  Beverly scanned  Vash for injuries while they talked.  As she ran a dermaplaser over the mark on Vash's neck, Beverly inquired impishly, "Let me guess, curling iron, right?"

 

                "Doctor Crusher, you're such a bitch.  I like that," Vash giggled, hearing the age-old fib for covering up a hickey.  Indicating over to Jean-Luc, Will Riker, and Data, she asked, "Any ideas about what's going on over there?"

 

                "Probably a powwow to try to figure out if our friend escaped with any sensitive material," Crusher replied as she finished her scans.

 

                "Like these ship schematics he had hidden in my computer?" Vash asked, showing Beverly the disk.

 

                "Exactly like those," Beverly quipped, raising an amused eyebrow.

 

                "So, I should present these to the Captain with all due haste," Vash matched Beverly's tone.

 

                "Immediately," Crusher said with a smile.  She added conspiratorially, "And let the games begin."

 

                Straightening out her jumpsuit, Vash grinned back at Beverly, "Watch this."

 

                "Report, Data," Picard ordered as Data joined Riker and himself.

 

                "The ship schematics were hidden in Councilmember Vash's computer terminal.  The alternate transferred them directly from Commander Kerrgan's office terminal on Planitia.  They have been downloaded to disk."

 

                "What did he get away with?"  Picard asked.

 

                "We do not know exactly, sir," came Data's short reply.

 

                "Make a guess, Data."  Picard wondered if Data did this to him on purpose.

 

                "It is conceivable that he attained all of the schematics for the Enterprise, sir."

 

                During this exchange Vash had made her way back over to them.  She casually leaned against a near wall and idly toyed with the computer disk.  She looked very pleased with herself as she said  "Guess again, Data."  All three officers turned to look at her.  She looked up, smiled sweetly and chirped.  "Actually, what he got away with were my lecture notes for Archaeology 101."

 

                Vash slowly sauntered up very close to Picard and splayed one hand intimately on his chest.   Her expression turned flirtatious and the other hand held the disk up just under his nose.  The seductive tone of her bedroom voice insinuated that she was talking about more than the disk. "Is this yours, Captain?"

 

                Picard stared down at the enticing sight in front of him. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.  He was aware that his first and second officers were watching with more than a passing interest.  He supposed that the entire crew knew about his relationship with Vash.  The gossip mill couldn't possibly be that slow.  Well, as long as he didn't act like a complete imbecile in front of his crew --or Vash-- the situation was acceptable. 

 

                "I believe it is," he managed to keep his voice at its normal tone.  He took the proffered disk and watched as Vash turned and walked back to her desk.  Did she have to walk quite that way?  He turned to his first officer and handed him the disk.  "Number One, please take this over to Mr. Worf to be disposed of properly."

 

                "Of course, sir," Riker grinned knowingly at his captain.  He nodded in Vash's direction.  "She is something else, isn't she?"

 

                "She may be the death of me yet, Number one," Picard sighed as he looked over at Vash.

 

                "Well, sir, I can't think of a nicer way to go,"  Riker chuckled.  "Come on, Data."  They walked over to the cargo bay door where Worf was now standing with Beverly.

 

                Picard walked over to stand in front of Vash.  She was beaming at him, her blue eyes sparkling with their usual mischief.  He shook his head, his gentle but exasperated tone was that of someone dealing with an errant five year old.  "Is it safe to assume that I'm better off not knowing how you accomplished that?"

 

                "That would be a safe assumption."  Vash looked up into the chiseled features of his handsome face and added, with an arched eyebrow and a come-hither look, "but if you want to spank me for it, I'll bring the cherry body gel."

 

                He let his gaze move down her curvaceous silhouette.  His eyes rested on the neck line of her tunic.  From this angle he had a very nice view.  Mon Dieu, but that thing was low cut.  He forced his eyes back up to hers.  "I think I'll just kiss you."

 

                "Like the way you did last night?" Vash murmured.  The way he had just been looking at her, along with the memory of that kiss last night, sent a shiver of desire up her spine.  Of course, he wouldn't kiss her like that here, not with all of his officers around.  She wondered if she could actually entice him enough to do that.

 

                "Uh-huh,"  Picard uttered as he looked at her with a small smile and one raised eyebrow.  He was remembering her reaction to that kiss.  She had said it was like being made love to.

 

                "Right here and right now, in front of all of your officers?"  Vash's voice was sultry and challenging.  She took a step back and stood up as straight as she could, hands on her hips.  Every curve strained against the tight confines of her jumpsuit.  "I dare you!"

 

                Picard regarded the very tempting vision in front of him.  He was the captain of the flagship, and rank had it's privileges.  Besides, he could not ignore that challenge or the bewitching way it was delivered.

 

                Picard didn't say another word.  In a quick series of fluid movements, he reached out with one arm sweeping Vash up against his body and pressed her back against the wall.  He cupped her chin tenderly with his other hand, lifting her face to his.  He softly brushed his lips against hers as his hand leisurely glided down her neck to her shoulder.  He felt her lush lips tremble as he nibbled at  them with brief, feather-like kisses.  As his lips gently teased hers, his hand continued down the side of her frame to the curve between her waist and her hip.

 

                Vash closed her eyes and sighed in anticipation, feeling butterflies in her stomach.  She lost herself in the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave and the security she felt in his strong, muscular arms.  She ran her hands up and down his chest impatiently while Jean-Luc firmly held her still with both of his hands at her hips.  When his mouth finally settled over hers in a gentle, but possessive kiss, her knees gave way and her hands moved to clutch his broad shoulders.  The butterflies in her stomach turned to shivers of desire, the sensation spreading throughout her body causing the peaks of her breasts to harden.  He slipped his tongue past her parted lips to gently stroke and caress the warm, moist cavern of her mouth.  Her entire body felt as if it were made of liquid flames.  Wanting more, Vash wound her arms around to splay her hands against the back of his head to pull him closer.  As Jean-Luc very slowly deepened the kiss, his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth while his hands slid around to her back to crush her against his powerful frame.  Heated waves of arousal coursed over her as his mouth continued to make love to hers.

 

                "Oh my God!" Beverly breathed.  She grabbed Riker by the shoulders and spun him around to face the direction of the captain.

 

                Riker looked up just in time to see the captain sweep Vash into his arms.  "Whoa Nellie!"

 

                Data and Worf also turned to look.  All four officers just stood and watched, stunned.

 

                "We really shouldn't stand here and watch," Beverly said quietly.  Then, watching the couple she added,  "My God, He's good.  Now I understand why the French have the reputation they do!"

 

                "No, we really shouldn't watch," Riker concurred.  He shook his head impressed by what he was seeing.  "Everyone calls me the lady's man onboard.  As usual he makes me look like a rank amateur."

 

                "Is this what Geordi was referring to by 'entertainment value'?" asked Data innocently.

 

                "Not exactly."  Riker still couldn't tear his eyes from the two of them.

 

                "That reminds me, I have someone, I mean, somewhere else to be right now."  Worf rumbled and he turned to leave.  He hoped Deanna wasn't too busy.

 

                Riker shook his head and quietly ordered.  "Everyone out!"  Everyone filed out quietly.  As they stood outside the closed door, Riker turned back and ordered, "computer, erect a level two forcefield at both ends of this corridor authorization Riker omega zero five alpha."

 

                "Area secured," the computer promptly reported.

 

                Riker smiled and turned to make his way to the bridge.

 

                "I will contact Geordi and have a repair team sent to fix the controls for the door at once, sir," Data informed Riker.

 

                "Mr. Data, advise Mr. LaForge that repairs to the cargo bay four doors can wait until 0800 tomorrow."

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

                Six months later, the crew and civilians of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701E were in attendance at the christening ceremony.  She floated majestically outside of the huge bay window of the Utopia Planitia Shipyard's reception hall.  Vice-Admiral Alynna Nechayev stood behind the podium in front of the window as she finished her speech.  Looking out into the audience, she surveyed the assemblage before her idly noting the location of the ship's senior officers.  She also saw a good number of Starfleet's top brass, a collection of Federation dignitaries, and civilian guests.  The admiral turned to look at Captain Jean-Luc Picard, who was in full dress uniform and standing slightly behind and to her left.

 

                "Captain, would you do the honors?" Nechayev asked, gesturing to the thick gold cord that would release the bottle of Don Perignon positioned outside  It would fly straight toward the ship, hitting the hull, and officially christening the Federation's newest starship.

 

                Picard turned and started toward the cord.  He stopped mid-stride and turned, walking to the front row of guests.  A small smile spread across his face.

 

                In the front row, Vash looked over at Will Riker, confused.  She whispered under her breath, "What's he doing?"

 

                "I don't have a clue," Riker whispered back.

 

                Picard stopped directly in front of Vash and smiled down at her.  Vash was still confused but she felt herself relax as she looked up into those steel grey eyes.  Even if no one else did, she knew that Jean-Luc always knew what he was doing.

 

                Picard extended his right hand to her.  She looked so lovely, her hands folded on the skirt of her stylish, ivory, linen suit and as she laid her left hand in his right and stood up next to him, the flawless one carat diamond in her wedding ring caught the light and sparkled brilliantly.  Wordlessly, Captain Picard led his lovely new bride up to the window where the cord hung down.  He gently placed her hand on the cord beneath his larger hand.

 

                "Are you sure? This is your moment, Jean-Luc.  I don't want to steal your thunder," Vash whispered quietly so that only he could hear.

 

                "I'm sure," he whispered back.  He wanted to share this moment with her.  "If you would do the honors, Madame Picard," he said in a much louder tone, so that everyone could hear.  Jean-Luc Picard was very proud of his beautiful wife and he couldn't keep that pride out of his voice.  He quickly kissed the back of her hand before releasing it.  Then he stepped back slightly and gestured for Vash to pull the cord.  Vash's eyes twinkled as she threw a quick, shy smile at her new husband, then she tugged gently on the cord.

 

                As the bottle of champagne tumbled toward the Enterprise, everyone stood to watch out the window.  Without taking her eyes from the window, Vash stepped back to stand next to Picard and felt him tenderly place his hand on the small of her back.  She leaned into his embrace slightly, her head resting against his shoulder while they watched the champagne bottle hit the hull of the ship that would be their new home.  As the crowd erupted in applause, Vash glanced up at the handsome man standing next to her, a sudden intense pride filling her eyes.  He glanced down just in time to catch her gaze and he winked at her.  Luckily the applause was loud enough to cover her stifled giggle.

 

.....................................................

 

                Later that evening, after a tour of the newly-christened Enterprise, there was a reception for the guests in the Ten Forward lounge.  Picard made his way over to Vash who was standing with Deanna, Worf, and Data.  Picard noticed that Deanna's upswept hairstyle was being held in place by a Klingon warrior's amulet.  At least he wasn't the only one losing the battle of the sexes.

 

                "Oh, Mrs. Picard and Commander Data, we need to have a little chat about the painting in my ready room."  His voice was gently exasperated and one eyebrow was arched.  He had been had.

 

                The painting was a formal bridal portrait of Vash that Data had done as a wedding gift.  He had seen it for the first time earlier while giving some of the admirals a tour of the ship.  It had been hung this morning, on the wall across from his desk, and his darling bride had managed to keep him out of his ready room all day.  The portrait perfectly captured how resplendent Vash had looked that day one month ago.  The formal bridal gown was ivory satin overlaid with lace and completely covered with sequins and tiny seed pearls.  Her veil was held on by a tiara of pearls and Austrian crystals.  Data had managed to capture the way each sequin and crystal made her shimmer from head to toe.  In the portrait she looked like a queen, sitting so regally with the full ballgown skirt spilling over the sides of the captain's chair on the bridge of the Enterprise E.

 

                "Is something dissatisfactory about the portrait, sir?" Data asked putting on his most innocent Pinocchio face.

 

                "The painting is splendid, Mr. Data, but . . ." Picard started then he noticed Vash starting to slowly slide away.  "Don't you move, young lady."

 

                He turned back to Data.  "Why the command chair, my command chair?  Data, how did she talk you into that?"

 

                Data and Vash exchanged a glance.  Data looked at his captain   He managed to keep his voice and expression completely innocent.  "I was merely following your instructions, sir.  You said to do whatever the lady wanted.  The lady wanted your chair, sir."

 

                Vash decided it was time to turn on the charm.  She moved to her husband's side, and looked up at him with bedroom eyes. "Jean-Luc," she started.

 

                "You can stop fluttering those eyelashes at me, mon petite." He gave a huge, melodramatic sigh.  "You've won.  The painting will stay."  Picard shook his head.  He would never admit it, but he actually thought it was a cute idea.  Besides, her brief, but huge, triumphant grin was worth it.  She reached up and gently picked a single black cat hair off of his shoulder and then brushed at the spot with her fingertips.

 

                "Sorry, darling, I thought I got all of it off before we left," she whispered to him sweetly as he looked down.

 

                "Why does the cat have to sleep on my uniforms?"  Picard rolled his eyes.  He still wasn't sure how to get even with Data for giving that animal to Vash.  She adored the kitten.  The cat was cute, but it was spoiled rotten, it even had a pink collar studded with rhinestones.

 

                "Now, Jean-Luc, she loves you and just wants to be near you.  She thinks you're her daddy," Vash tried to hide her small grin.  He always acted like the cat was a bother, but he was the one who had picked out the fancy wicker bed and pink satin pillow for Charcoal.  He also allowed the cat to curl up on his lap every night as he made his log entries and every morning he slipped the kitten a small bite of his croissant.

 

                He noticed Worf smiling at the whole exchange.  "Counselor, that is an interesting piece of hair jewelry.  Isn't it Klingon?"  He certainly couldn't let Mr. Worf think he was the only man on this ship whose woman ran his life.

 

                "Yes, it is, I thought it would make a pretty accessory with this outfit," Deanna smiled.  Worf was standing behind her and his smile faded, replaced with an expression of resignation.  Deanna turned to the captain's wife and nodded toward the buffet.  "Vash, let's go attack that dessert tray."

 

                "Sounds like a plan."  Vash looked back at her husband, "Want anything?"  Picard shook his head no and watched as she and Deanna started to make their way across the room.

 

                "Well, Mr. Worf, that was the most interesting way I've ever seen a warrior amulet worn."  Picard forced himself to keep a straight face as he teased his security chief.  Then he smiled and clapped the Klingon on the shoulder saying,  "we might as well surrender.  They always win anyway."

 

                "Yes, sir," came Worf's defeated reply.

 

                "I hear you've agreed to a traditional Betazed wedding ceremony, Mr. Worf.  Are you looking forward to it?"  Picard knew full well that Worf had not wanted to do the traditional ceremony   He just had to rub it in.

 

                Worf merely grunted a not-so-polite Klingonese response to his captain and went to get a stronger drink.

 

                Data had managed to escape while the captain teased Worf, and made his way over to Geordi.  Geordi was talking to Mr. Barclay.

 

                "Reg, you deserve the Silver Cluster.  Like the captain said, your idea saved the ship.  Enjoy the recognition."  Geordi saw Data making his way over.  "Hey, Data."

 

                "Hello Geordi, Mr. Barclay," Data replied.

 

                Barclay nodded.  "Commander."  Then to Geordi he said, "I'm just nervous with all this brass around.  I thought the tour of the ship would never end."  Just then Commander Riker waved for Barclay to come join him and one of the admirals.  "Oh, God. I'll never survive this," he said as he started to walk away.

 

                When they were alone, Geordi smiled and asked Data, "So what did the captain think of the portrait?  I bet he was just thrilled about the command chair idea."

 

                "He wanted to know how she had convinced me to do the painting with her in the command chair," Data sighed, shook his head and answered   "I told him she asked."

 

                "That's only half the story, Data.  You left out the part about the lovely Mrs. Picard fluttering her baby blues at you and melting half of your circuits when she asked," Geordi teased quietly.

 

                "Yes, I omitted that bit of information," Data said.  Then he leaned in closer to Geordi and smiled.  "And so will you."

 

                As the evening progressed, and after most of the dignitaries and top brass had left, the reception turned into an actual party.  Picard was seated at a table with his first officer, the two of them sharing a quiet drink from a bottle of very old scotch.  Picard could hear Vash laughing somewhere in the background, she never ceased to amaze him.  Starfleet Command had offered to send them anywhere they wanted for a honeymoon and he figured she would want to go someplace exotic, like Risa.  What she did pleased him more than she would ever know.  She looked up at him, smiled and said, "We have plenty of time to see the galaxy.  Please, Jean-Luc, show me Paris." 

 

                They spent two wonderful weeks in Paris.  He showed her all the cultural sites during the day, in the evenings they ate at the finest restaurants.  They danced away half of every night at the best nightclubs, the other half of every night . . . well, he didn't think a man could be loved to death, but Vash gave it the old college try.

 

                He looked around until he spotted her.  Vash, Beverly, Deanna, and a small group of women were laughing and doing one of the latest dances the two of them had seen in Paris.  They all had their shoes off and were having a great time.  He tapped Riker on the shoulder and gestured over to them.  Riker looked up and smiled.

 

                "They seem to be having a good time," Riker grinned and stroked his beard.  "But where do they get all that energy?"

 

                "That was what I was going to ask you."  Picard couldn't quite place the woman next to Vash.  A woman with long blonde hair. The two women were talking and laughing.   "Number One, who's the blonde with Vash?"

 

                Just as he said it, Picard realized who she was, so did Riker.  She had taken her hair down and changed into civilian dress; it had to be her, the two men just couldn't believe it.  They looked at each other amazed.  "Admiral Nechayev?!"

 

**FINIS**

 

Femme Fatale

 

Double Entendre Index