Title: The Goddess FaQtor**A 2004 A.S.C Award Winner**

Author: Whoa Nellie ([email protected])

Series: TNG

Rating: NC-17

Codes: P/Vash, Q

Summary: During her adventures with Q, Vash tried to stay out of trouble. Picard finds out just how unsuccessful she was as well as how little help Q was. This story was originally posted to ASC on February 12, 2004 and occurs in the Whoa Nellie universe "Reasons of the Heart" timeline, accepting all TNG canon through the movie "Insurrection" while adding Vash (from the TNG episodes 'Captain's Holiday' and 'Qpid') onboard as the ship's chief archaeologist and a post Endgame Chakotay onboard the Enterprise as ship's anthropologist.

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

The Goddess FaQtor

"You'll find a god in every golden cloister

And if you're lucky then the god's a she"

--One Night in Bangkok

"Captain's personal log, the Enterprise is in orbit around the planet Sharia in the Gamma quadrant. We have finished negotiating an agreement that will allow us to chart areas of space claimed by the Sharian including the nearby Verath system. Interestingly enough, Sharia was originally colonized by people from the Verath system tens of thousands of years ago. My wife and I along with Commander Riker and Counselor Troi have been invited by Tamrof Latigid, Sharia's Chief Administrator, to attend a formal reception this evening at the capital's great hall."

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

With the final course of the banquet being served, Captain Jean-Luc Picard's attention was drawn to his wife who was sitting a few seats down from him. The soft tailoring, grey pinstripes and long, slim skirt of her black dress suit gave her an air of elegant sophistication while she engaged in conversation with two senior Sharian governmental officials. Both older men appeared enchanted as she graced them with her most charming smile. When Vash thanked the waiter placing a dessert plate in front of her, the young man seemed almost in awe. Observing her on the receiving end of male adulation was nothing new to Picard, she was a petite brunette with sparkling blue eyes, perfect curves, long legs, and a vivacious personality; to put it quite simply, men liked Vash. Nevertheless, Picard had noticed during the evening's festivities that all of the Sharians seemed notably deferential toward Vash with the males especially attentive. She turned her head toward him.

Catching Jean-Luc staring, Vash's eyes locked with his for a brief moment. He appeared quite dashing with his crisp, white jacket trimmed with gold braiding and the fitted black trousers of his dress uniform emphasizing his sleek, muscular build. She lowered her gaze and peered flirtatiously through her lashes giving him a coquettish smile full of promise before returning her attention back to the two Sharian officials.

The captain knew she was deliberately playing with him, tempting him. He fought to rein in his response even as his pulse quickened, demonstrating the sway this woman could wield over him with a mere glance. He wanted to kiss her; he wanted her to be sitting next to him instead of being so far away.

"You must forgive Rojem and Ronem, Captain Picard. They usually don't behave like besotted adolescents. They're obviously so dazzled by your wife's presence that they have forgotten themselves."

Picard blinked as the sound of Creanne Latigid's voice startled him out of his reverie. Inwardly chastising himself, he turned toward the Chief Administrator's wife with his most diplomatic smile. Creanne Latigid was a mature, stately-looking woman with dark eyes and aristocratic features reminiscent

of Ambassador Sarek's widow, Perrin. "There is nothing to forgive. Vash seems to be enjoying their attention and I view it simply as one of the repercussions of being married to a beautiful woman, Mrs. Latigid, a burden your husband shares."

"You're quite the charming diplomat, Captain, thank you."

"You mentioned that this building houses some of your planet's foremost pieces of artwork as well as being the place your government's legislative body meets," Picard quickly changed the subject, picking up his glass.

"Yes, the finest collection of art on the entire planet," Creanne Latigid smiled with pride. "Would you and your party be interested in a tour of the artwork contained in the Great Hall after our meal?"

Taking a drink, Picard set down his glass and nodded, "Indeed, we would."

"Very well then, it's settled," she replied.

"Thank you," Picard nodded graciously.

Riker winked in Deanna's direction. 'Nice save by the Captain,' he thought to her. 'Vash clearly has him distracted this evening. What is it you always joke about? There's nothing like a little perceived male competition to spur on the alpha male?'

Counselor Deanna Troi covered her own amusement with a drink of her wine as she thought back, 'I'm beginning to suspect there may be more to the Sharian's preoccupation with Vash than mere sexual attraction.'

'Are you detecting a threat . . .'

'No, nothing malevolent,' Deanna rushed to assure him as she felt his growing wariness. 'I'm sensing tremendous emotional reaction at Vash's appearance in particular from all of the Sharians, male and female. It's more like astonishment or awe than actual attraction and, for some reason, the males are particularly mesmerized. I can't tell you any more than that right now.'

'It looks like this might turn out to be a very interesting evening,' Riker thought in reply. 'Just keep working on it and if you feel anything even remotely threatening--'

Deanna sent him a droll look. 'You'll feel it before I can even finish thinking it, Imzadi.'

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

Chief Administrator Tamrof Latigid and Creanne Latigid led the small group from the Enterprise through the maze of corridors in Sharia's Great Hall, briefly describing the history and cultural significance of each piece of artwork they passed. Walking through the massive double doors, the group entered the ornately-decorated chamber where the planet's governing body met. Paintings and carvings along the walls showed the history of Sharia in brilliant color. Curved tables formed a gallery in front of an officious-looking podium, all of which looked somewhat out of place in the opulence of the room. Behind the Chief Administrator's podium was a recessed alcove flanked by elaborately-carved pillars with a single, immense painting that dominated the alcove and made it appear almost as a shrine. As Jean-Luc Picard took in the painting, it stopped him in his tracks. In the painting, a woman stood adorned in an ethereal, mesh-like gown made completely of glittering multicolored jewels. The sparkling filigree of the garment concealed only enough of the woman's exquisite body to incite the observer's imagination. It was only when his eyes had traveled past the perfect curves of her feminine silhouette to reach her face was he struck still, instantly recognizing the seductive, come-hither expression. Picard blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing; however, there was no denying the obvious. The beautiful, alluring woman in the painting was Vash.

'Now, I've heard of a boudoir painting, but this is just a bit over the top, ' Deanna thought to Will as soon as she recovered.

'Even for Vash?' Will sent the teasing thought with a wicked glint in his eye.

'Even for Vash; although, the painting does explain the Sharian's reaction to Vash,' she replied.

'While opening a virtual Pandora's box of questions.' Riker glanced over at Picard. Complete shock registered plainly on the usually-unflappable captain's face. Only half-joking Riker added, 'Should we call Beverly and have her prepare another artificial heart?'

'He's not quite that bad, close but not quite.' She fought down her own growing amusement.

'And the subject of the painting?' he couldn't help asking. Vash was standing next to Picard, laying low for the moment.

Deanna gaze followed her husband's toward Vash's direction. 'The whole thing is certainly playing to her vanity. She is mildly surprised but in no way as stunned as the rest of us. Her emotions right now could best be described by the word ooops.'

"This painting is our planet's oldest known piece of artwork. It is a depiction of Vasharia, the ancient Verathan goddess of beauty for whom Sharia was named," Chief Administrator Tamrof Latigid explained, moving toward the painting.

Chief Administrator turned to Vash. "Mrs. Picard, I do hope our reaction to your presence hasn't made you uncomfortable. It must be a coincidence of cosmic proportions, however, as you can see your name as well as your appearance bears an uncanny resemblance to the goddess Vasharia."

Vash responded with a small graceful nod of her head, slipping easily into the role of a dignitary. "I thought that the Sharians were the most hospitable and sociable people I had ever had the fortune of meeting, but I'm so flattered to know that you see a resemblance in me to such a breathtaking portrait."

"You have Vasharia's grace and charm as well," Tamrof beamed. He turned to Picard, "You are indeed a lucky man, Captain."

"Indeed," he acknowledged diplomatically. He grasped Vash's arm, subtly but firmly pulling her toward him. "It certainly is an exquisite piece of artwork. I would be very interested in learning more about this goddess Vasharia." He looked down at Vash, waiting until she peered up out of the corner of her eye at him. "Wouldn't you, dear?"

Vash leaned in closer and gazed up at him adoringly with her most innocent expression. "Of course, darling; it would be fascinating to learn more about such an intriguing mythological figure."

"You are welcome to access our planet's database, everything known about the goddess Vasharia as well as the rest of our history can be found there," Tamrof offered proudly.

"Thank you, Chief Administrator. We truly appreciate the gracious hospitality that the Sharian's have shown us; however, we should be returning to our ship," Picard said with a polite nod.

"Of course," Tamrof Latigid nodded in return. "May you be fortunate in your travels, Captain."

"Thank you, sir." Picard tapped his communicator. "Enterprise, four to beam up."

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

Lieutenant Commander Geoff Lar, the Enterprise's Betazoid Chief of Security, stood behind the console in transporter room three. He expertly worked the controls and Captain Picard, Mrs. Picard, Commander Riker and Counselor Troi materialized on the transporter pad. Instantly and unbidden, a vivid and seductive mental picture of Vash from the captain's mind intruded into Lar's thoughts. Picard's attention was intensely focused on the vivid vision, which Lar forced aside with a slight shake of his head, once again surprised at how little human's knew about their own mental abilities.

"Unbelievable!" Picard shouted as he stepped off of the transporter platform.

"Unbelievable that I could resemble a goddess of beauty?" Vash replied, completely unabashed.

"Oh no, little girl, you're not squirming your way out of this one." Picard spun to face his wife pointing his finger at her. "There was no resembling about it. I don't know how, but every line, every curve, every feature of the woman in that painting right down to the bedroom expression she wore was you."

Riker watched Vash reach out to gracefully lay her left hand over the captain's 'engage finger' and descended from the transporter pad like a queen with Picard instinctively adjusting his grip to help her down from the pad. The diamonds in her wedding ring glittered in the light as she transformed Picard's reproachful finger-pointing into a gallant gesture. The first officer managed to smoother an escaping chuckle with a cough, but he didn't dare risk a glance much less a thought in Deanna's direction.

Watching Vash serenely step down off the transporter pad to stand next to him, Picard's thoughts all revolved around on the Sharian painting.

"Captain," Lar called as the image that he now assumed was the Sharian painting intruded into his mind again.

After giving Vash a stern look, Picard turned toward his security chief. "Yes, Commander."

"You're projecting your thoughts rather forcefully, sir," Lar advised.

"Acknowledged, Mr. Lar." Picard tapped his communicator. "Picard to Bridge."

Data's voice sounded over the comm, "Bridge here, sir."

"Mr. Data, I want a senior staff meeting in ten minutes and tell Commander Chakotay to download all information relating to the goddess Vasharia available in the Sharian database and bring it with him," Picard ordered.

"Aye, sir."

Picard turned back to Vash, "Professor Picard, as the Archaeology Council's representative and the ship's chief archaeologist, you will be joining us."

"Of course, dear . . . Captain," Vash replied sweetly.

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

The turbolift ride to the bridge was silent, Will Riker and Deanna stood behind the Captain and Vash. Commander Lar had taken a different turbolift stating that he needed to stop by his office before the staff meeting. Picard wore a controlled, impassive expression while standing at parade rest with his hands clasped behind his back. Vash was a stark contrast, leaning against the wall of the turbolift in a casual hip-hitched pose. Although not actually smiling, she looked insufferably pleased with herself.

'I don't think Vash is conscious of the captain's current mood,' Will thought to Deanna.

'To the contrary, she is very perceptive of his moods,' Deanna responded impishly, 'and well aware that many things are forgiven after a really good blow job.'

'Deanna!' Will turned to stare at his wife in disbelief.

Deanna looked back at her husband with open amusement. 'Right now our captain is a fascinating study in conflicting emotions. He is irritated, frustrated, and completely exasperated; however, he is also intrigued, tantalized, and sexually aroused. The situation with the Sharian painting embodies everything about Vash that drives him to complete distraction. To quote your father, he doesn't know whether to shit or wind his watch.'

'This senior staff meeting should be an entertaining end to our evening,' Riker thought back.

'Dinner and a show,' Deanna mentally quipped as the doors opened to the bridge.

Picard gestured for Vash to preceded him out of the turbolift and onto the bridge. Smiling sweetly at the on duty personnel, she gracefully made her way toward the observation lounge. The captain found that he could not help but notice the subtle sway of her hips as he followed her. Entering the observation lounge, he nodded to Data, Geordi LaForge, and Beverly Crusher who were already seated at the conference table. Vash walked around the table to sit next to Beverly and Deanna followed, taking the chair on the other side of Vash. He groaned inwardly realizing he was facing an encounter with the trio in a senior staff meeting. Will took his usual seat next to Data.

"Well, someone certainly has his pips all bunched in a knot," Vash noted under her breath to Beverly and Deanna while making herself comfortable in her chair.

The comment prompted Beverly to want to ask what happened during the Sharian reception; before she could pose the question, the doors to the observation lounge opened and Commander Lar walked in followed by Chakotay, who flashed her a quick grin. It was immediately obvious to Beverly that Chakotay knew something about what was going on. She could see her husband struggling not to laugh and amusement lit his soft brown eyes while he studiously avoided looking in Vash's direction.

Picard waited a moment for everyone to take their seats. "Your report, Commander Chakotay."

"Yes, Captain." Chakotay rose and moved to the large viewer in the front of the lounge. He tapped a few controls and on the viewer appeared the painting depicting Vasharia from the Sharian capital's Great Hall.

Out of the corner of his eye, Picard saw Vash gaze up nonchalantly at the ceiling. A collective gasp filled the room.

Beverly barely choked down her 'oh shit' comment.

"Oh my God!" Geordi muttered in disbelief.

"It is a magnificent piece of art with aspects reminiscent of different Earth masters such as Michelangelo, Monet, Degas, and Renoir. Most curious though is the figure's resemblance to Professor Picard." Data paused in his analysis, taking notice of the captain's pained expression. "Oh."

Riker heard Deanna's amused voice in his head. 'I think Data just figured out why we're all sitting here.'

"Mr. Chakotay, please." Picard gestured to the ship's anthropologist to continue.

Chakotay took a deep breath and was careful not to actually look at Vash. "As you know, the planet Sharia was originally a colonized by people from the Verath system. Professor Picard's own work on the Verath system cites the Verathan civilization reaching its height around 30,000 years ago. The only thing that remains of the Verathan culture on Sharia is a few mythical archetypes including the ancient Verathan goddess Vasharia, the planet's name sake. Vasharia was the Verathan goddess of fertility, inebriety and music "

Sharing an amused glance with Vash, Beverly quipped softly, "Sex, drugs, and rock and roll?"

"Doctor," Picard chided. He knew the trio sitting together would not bode well for him.

Silently willing himself not to laugh at Beverly's remark, Chakotay continued, "Although most of the rites surrounding her have been lost, Vasharia continues to represent the Sharian culture's epitome of feminine beauty and sexuality. Because the Sharians do not have the genetics required for blue eyes, the goddess's vivid blue eyes were fabled to be the result of her birth from the blue waters of the sea. Her web-like jeweled gown was said to have been created for her as a token of affection from the stars themselves."

Vash gave a regal toss of her hair and a coy smile. "My, how flattering."

"Professor Picard," Captain Picard's tone was more than a touch admonishing while gesturing toward the painting. "I don't think it is going too far out on a limb to suggest that this is no mere coincidence."

A familiar flash of brilliant light filled the room and Vash disappeared from her chair to reappear with Q standing alongside of her next to the viewscreen. The entity cupped her chin and raised her face. "30,000 years and she doesn't appear to have aged a day."

Although he had read reports about Q, Lar had never actually encountered the entity; nonetheless, he was instantly on his feet moving toward Q. The Security Chief tapped his communicator, not surprised when it didn't activate. He tried again as he positioned himself between the intruder and his captain; the communicator remained silent.

"Stand down, Commander," Picard sighed wearily. This was the perfect end to the perfect evening.

"Usually one finds such brainless bravado in a Klingon, not a Betazoid. So where is Worf, my favorite microbrain?" Q taunted sardonically.

"Sir?" Lar asked meaningfully under his breath, his eyes not leaving the intruder.

"She's all right, he won't hurt her. We have an understanding," Picard assured Lar.

"That understanding does not include hot-headed Betazoids. Now where should I send you to cool off?" The entity raised his hand.

Vash quickly grabbed Q's raised hand interposing herself between her former security guard and whatever fate Q had planned for him. "Q, don't!"

"Very well," Q shrugged, lowering his hand. "It seems you enjoy the protection of Madame's favor, for now."

Lar stepped back but did not return to his seat. Instead, he stood at the side of the room at parade rest, his eyes never leaving the entity.

"Sir," Chakotay spoke up.

"Chuckles! What happened? Did Kathy finally find someone with a bigger tattoo?" Q crowed.

Picard had often considered sitting down with Captain Janeway to compare notes on Q; however the flirtatious diminutive and insinuating tone Q had used while referring to Janeway left him wondering if Vash and Janeway should be the ones comparing notes. He turned to Chakotay. "Yes, Commander?"

"We can't make him leave until he deems to do so. May I suggest we ignore him, maybe he'll get bored and go away," Chakotay offered.

"Hope springs eternal, huh, Chakotay," Geordi joked from his seat.

"It's worth a try." Picard glanced between Geordi and Chakotay. Tugging on the white jacket of his dress uniform, Picard sat back down in his chair and addressed his wife, "Would you care to explain yourself, Professor?"

Vash glanced over her shoulder at the image on the viewscreen before facing Jean-Luc. "The Verathian's largest city-state was located near an ocean coast; they held a immense festival commemorating the vernal equinox and the growth season. It was a wonderful celebration with carnivals, music, food, fruit wines, and dancing, the largest of these revelries took place just outside the city on the actual coastline with the ocean making a spectacular backdrop. Q popped me in to observe this particular carnival on multiple occasions over a number of years."

"Something tells me he didn't just simply pop you in to observe at a discreet distance." Picard reached up to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Well," Vash innocently studied the ceiling tile.

"What kind of Frenchman are you, Jean-Luc? Women like Vash should always make an entrance. Each time she appeared on the highest bluff in her jeweled gown with the waves crashing up from below," Q proclaimed melodramatically.

"While I'll admit I appreciate your flair for the dramatic," Vash put her finger over Q's lips to silence him. "Don't help."

"How many times over how long, exactly?" Picard demanded, exasperation with his wife creeping into his voice.

"Around 60 times over 300 years, give or take," she admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She inspected her perfectly manicured nails. "The temple was only there the last few times."

"The temple was only there the last few times?" Picard echoed incredulously. "And it never occurred to you to correct the situation?"

"When someone asks you if you're a goddess, you say yes!" Vash retorted in a flippant tone, throwing her head back and her arms open.

Q heard a laugh escape Chakotay. "Oh my, is Chuckles actually developing a sense of humor? And while working for Picard no less? What would Kathy say?"

"You can leave any time now, Q," Vash offered. The entity was not helping her case.

"Leave? When I have a ringside seat to a Picard lovers quarrel?" Q appeared delighted at the prospect of witnessing such an occurrence.

"My wife and I are not having a lovers quarrel. This is a senior staff meeting with the ship's chief archaeologist in attendance. In this situation, my feelings toward Vash are irrelevant," Picard countered curtly.

Q mimicked Picard's tone. "My feelings toward Vash are irrelevant. Now, where have we heard that before . . . Oh yes, now I remember." Suddenly the body of Sir Guy of Gisborn appeared on the floor with Robin Hood's bloodstained broad sword sticking straight up from his gut.

Vash rolled her eyes. "My Q, that's vivid. One problem, Jean-Luc had his sword with him when he burst into the tower where I was being held."

"Detail, details. Who wants to bother with keeping all those minor points of continuity straight," Q said dismissively, waving a hand. The body disappeared.

Ignoring Q for the moment, Picard grumbled, "I'm not looking forward to yet another visit from Mr. Dulmer and Mr.Lucsly of the Federation Department of Temporal Investigation. "

"Not a problem," Vash observed blithely.

"Really?" Picard crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn't wait to hear this.

Vash's voice was smug. "Agents for the Federation Department of Temporal Investigation do the investigation and then present the report to the Federation Science Council's expert in the area to determine if there was any potential damage to the flow of the timeline. Who is the Federation's most respected expert in Gamma Quadrant antiquity?"

"That would be you, Professor Picard," Data acknowledged.

"Thank you, Commander." Vash gave a regal toss of her hair and flashed a triumphant smile at her husband before going over to sit down between Beverly and Deanna again.

As Vash walked past, Q praised her, "Again I must say, you're good, you're really good."

Beverly leaned over Vash to whisper to Deanna, "How does she do that?"

Vash giggled as Deanna whispered back to Beverly, "I don't know, but I'm taking notes."

Deciding to get back to the subject at hand, Chakotay looked over at Vash, his own interest in ancient civilizations piqued. "Being able to actually converse and interact with the Verathans must have been tremendously informative."

Vash's eyes sparkled with love for her work. "The insight into the Gamma Quadrant's ancient civilizations was invaluable; imagine having a living, breathing Rosetta Stone to work with."

Chakotay addressed the rest of the command staff. "Professor Picard's work on the Verath System and the interconnected communications network the Verathans devised to conduct trade with other systems was key to unraveling certain mysteries about other ancient civilizations in the surrounding systems."

Picard responded somewhat dryly, "Commander, no one here would even presume to debate the considerable significance of Professor Picard's work on the Gamma Quadrant."

Vash retorted under her breath, "that's wise."

Picard continued, "still, we must decide if we should inform the Sharians in order to rectify the situation."

Vash looked at him baffled. "Why? All I did was converse with the Verathans for information on their culture; there were no parting of seas or raising of mountains. The rites surrounding Vasharia have been lost, now only the image and the name remain. The planet's Chief Administrator believed my appearance and name were just a coincidence."

Chakotay shot an apologetic glance toward Vash before speaking up. "Unfortunately, there is a small group of very fanciful philosophers who have begun to theorize that Vash maybe the reincarnation of the goddess."

"You're kidding," Vash leaned back in her chair laughing. On either side of her, Deanna and Beverly were also having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Picard regarded the trio. "I fail to see the humor in this situation."

Vash smothered the last of her giggles. "It's not as if I'm planning the triumphant, mythological return of the all-powerful Vasharia."

Picard turned on Q, giving his most commanding glare.

Throwing his hands up, Q gasped in shock, "Vash, super-human powers? Oh please Picard, even I'm not that reckless; still, you're left with to tell them or not to tell them, that is the question."

Returning his attention to Vash, the captain sat back in his chair and continued in a firm, commanding tone, "I want you to prepare a complete and detailed accounting of every minute you spent with Q. Aside from this, I would like to know if there are any other unpleasant surprises we can expect in this region of space."

"Pushing the envelope on death-defying stunts, please direct your attention to the center ring where Johnny Picard is attempting to give his wife, the goddess, a direct order," Q announced as if he were PT Barnum himself.

Picard and Vash both spun toward the entity with a menacing, "Q!"

"I know when I'm not wanted, no one has to drop a house on me," Q complained, raising his hand and disappearing in a blinding flash.

After a long moment, Data spoke first, "Sir, Starfleet precedent would suggest that, in this situation, it is up to the Captain to decide a course of action. Captain James Kirk was faced with a similar situation on Sigma Iotia II and chose not to reveal the pertinent information to the society. The inhabitants of the planet, the Iotians, patterned their entire society on the gangsters of early twentieth century Chicago. A pre-space travel society, it seems the Iotians had found the book, "Chicago Mobs of the Twenties" among the wreckage of the USS Horizon, an early Federation starship that crashed into their planet."

Unable to help herself, Vash quipped impishly, "I want it noted that on my planet no one is running around with tommy guns and butchering the English language."

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

After Picard dismissed them, the senior staff began to prepare to leave. Standing up and blocking Vash's path, the captain assured her in a quiet but firm tone, "Ma petite, I would count on you and I having a long conversation when I get home."

"I'll be sure to wait up for you, darling," Vash replied sweetly, reaching up to cup his cheek with her palm. She stood up on tiptoe and leaned in for a brief kiss, relishing the passionate charge she felt from him as her lips brushed his. She stepped past him to make her way over to the door where Beverly and Deanna waited for her.

Deanna chuckled as Vash approached them, "a goddess on the mountain top."

Beverly started softly singing a little ditty that had been going through her head all during the meeting. "She's got it, yeah, baby, she's got it. I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, at your desire. Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, at your desire."

Not to be left out, Deanna joined in, "her weapons were her crystal eyes making every man a man . . ."

Vash glanced back at Jean-Luc before playfully shoving her friends through the door chuckling, "I'm in deep enough shit without you two digging me in deeper."

"So the significance of the situation has registered somewhere in that pretty little head," Picard muttered under his breath sitting back down in his chair and unfastening the tight collar of his dress jacket. With the observation lounge now empty except Will Riker and himself, the captain looked up at his first officer. "You have an observation, Number One."

"Permission to speak candidly, sir." Riker sat down in the chair across from Picard.

"Of course, Will."

"You send this omnipotent Bonnie and Clyde duo out on an interdimensional tour of the universe with only one caveat, that he guarantee her safety and now you're surprised by this result?" The first officer's amusement was obvious in his voice.

"And you're not surprised?" Picard inquired leaning back in his chair.

"No. The only thing that surprises me is that the painting isn't a nude. I remember you once telling me that every once in a while you must bow to the absurd," Riker gestured to the painting.

Starting to see the humor, Picard gave a small smile. "Is that your way of reminding me we all have our horga`hns to bear, Number One?"

"Aye, sir." Riker stood up to leave.

"Thank you, Will."

"Good night, Captain."

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

Two hours later, Picard walked into his quarters to see Vash standing in the doorway of their bedroom. Her brunette hair gently cascaded to her shoulders, perfectly framing her lovely face. The full-length peignoir made of midnight blue velvet accentuated the color of her eyes. The robe hung open, displaying the negligee beneath and the full curves of her breasts threatening to spill over the plunging scoop neckline and thin spaghetti straps. The luxuriant velvet skimmed her feminine silhouette to fall into sweeping folds around her legs. She leisurely strolled toward him with her hands clasped behind her back and the negligee's full skirt swirling around her legs with each step. She pressed herself against him, her body perfectly molding to his at every point, from the soft roundness of her breasts against his chest to the intertwining of their legs. Rising up on tip toe, she brought her face within a hairsbreadth of his the lure of her lush lips tantalizingly close.

"Waiting up as ordered, Captain," Vash whispered in a seductive purr, noticing the carnal heat reflected in Jean-Luc's steel-grey eyes. In spite of himself, he had obviously been driven to distraction by the painting of Vasharia. She knew that keeping him off balance was the only hope she had of winning this particular argument. She pressed her lips to his in an impassioned kiss. She felt his hands entangle in her hair, pulling her closer and crushing her mouth beneath his to deepen the kiss. A soft moan of triumph escaped her as his mouth took possession of hers, his tongue forcing its way inside to plunder and pillage the moist cavern.

"Bridge to Captain Picard," Data's voice sounded through the room.

'Saved by the android's summons,' Picard thought sardonically as he pulled back breaking the kiss. Releasing his hold on Vash, he stepped back, his pulse pounding in a primal rhythm that was almost audible. The provocative painting of Vash had fired his imagination with incredibly erotic visions. Her eyes fluttered open locking with his while she wet her lips with just the very tip of her tongue. She was playing his emotions with the consummate skill of a virtuoso, in a few more moments, he would have forgotten the conversation he intended to have with her and nothing but sating his desire for her would have mattered. Which is exactly what the cunning little minx had intended. He took a deep breath to center himself before tapping his communicator. "Picard here. Go ahead, Commander."

"Stellar cartography would like permission to make several, serious adjustments to one of the secondary sensor arrays for their scans of the Verath system," the second officer informed him.

"Have them check with tactical and make sure the planned changes don't interfere with any of our defensive systems. As long as that criteria is met, permission granted," Picard's eyes never left Vash as he responded.

"Aye, sir. Data out." The channel closed.

Crossing his arms, he regarded her expectantly. "You were actually planning on using sex as leverage to give yourself a tactical advantage in this situation."

"Why, Mon Capitaine, what would ever make you think I'm capable of such a thing?" she gushed, feigning a breathless naiveté.

"I have little doubt that the woman in that painting is capable of that very thing," Picard replied tightly. It took considerable effort to keep his gaze from trailing down her feminine silhouette. With her hands behind her back, the creamy mounds of her breasts jutted out evocatively against the risqué lines of her peignoir.

Vash raised an eyebrow and taunted lasciviously, "The woman in the painting is only capable of it because the heroic Captain Jean-Luc Picard wants to take her to bed for a hard and fast, wham-bam, merci madame, headboard whacking against the wall, fu --"

"Engineering to Captain Picard," Geordi's voice cut her off mid-word.

"Picard here, go ahead, Mr. LaForge."

"Sorry to disturb you, sir. I've discovered some anomalous, fluctuating readings from one of the anyon emitters," the chief engineer informed him.

"Is it a critical situation?" the captain inquired.

"No, sir, I can easily configure the other emitters to compensate while bypassing the effected emitter. However, I would like to replace it at the next starbase."

"Understood. Tomorrow morning have Commander Riker put that on the requisition list," Picard ordered.

"Aye, sir," Geordi replied, "goodnight, Captain."

"Goodnight, Geordi," Picard closed the channel. Returning his attention to Vash, he grumbled, "my feelings in this situation are irrelevant."

Vash countered brazenly, "that's lame and no one bought it in the staff meeting; although, the expression on your face when Q popped in Sir Guy's skewered body would have been worth the price of admission alone."

"Will you forget my duel with Sir Guy?" Picard stiffened visibly.

"Never." Vash gave a vain toss of her hair, quickly deciding on another diversion. "Just like in Nottingham, it's your own reactions in this situation that have your pips in such a bunch. When you first saw the painting of me as the goddess Vasharia, you wanted me so badly that it obliterated the stoic sensibilities of the cool, collected Captain Picard."

With a long suffering sigh of exasperation, he tugged on the bottom of his dress jacket. Her tactic was becoming all too clear, if at first you don't succeed with seduction try switching the argument. He decided the best thing to do was just take that arrow right out of her quiver. "My love and desire for you are irrefutable facts, Vash. You are an extraordinarily beautiful woman and it is an exquisite painting of you; however, my emotional reaction as your husband to the painting is not the issue. The issue at hand is the way you lied to the Verathans."

"I didn't lie lie, I just insinuated very convincingly," Vash contended innocently.

"That's your explanation for this?" Picard was becoming more frustrated by the minute.

"As promised, Q took me places and showed me things no human had ever seen. We had fun. I brought back a few very impressive artifacts and more importantly gathered a vast amount of extremely important archaeological data." She faced him with unabashed defiance. From behind her back she produced a data PADD and held it out to him. "Here is the report on my two years in the Gamma Quadrant with Q that you ordered, Captain."

"Thank you," he replied curtly, reaching out for the PADD.

Before releasing her hold on the PADD, she added a stipulation, "After 30,000 years, I think the statute of limitations is up on Vasharia as well as everything else contained in here. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Picard took the PADD, his voice a touch tighter than he meant it to be. "Tell me, ma chere, while the two of you were having all this fun, did Q make a habit of draping you in provocative gowns completely made of rare gems?"

"Kibberian fire diamonds to be precise," Q taunted reappearing in a bright flash. "Jealousy is so unlike you, Jean-Luc."

Refusing to dignify that with a response, Picard sat down behind his desk with the PADD that Vash had given him. "Go away, Q, show's over. Vash is obviously heading to bed and I have work to do."

The entity raised an eyebrow, "She's heading to bed . . . alone?"

"You're late, Q," Vash retorted blithely. "I've already tried luring him into bed, or onto the floor, or on top of his desk . . ."

"Bon nuit, ma chere," Picard firmly interrupted Vash giving her a meaningful look. The last thing he wanted was to engage in some sort of verbal menage a trois with Vash and Q. Turning his attention to the entity, he reiterated, "I have a lot of work to do."

Q shook his head. "Just as I thought, working too hard. That always leaves you in a foul mood."

Picard muttered under his breath, "no, Q, dealing with you always leaves me in a foul mood."

Q simply ignored what Picard has just said. "I left you unfairly earlier. You have a decision of immense importance to make and I'm not helping. Perhaps you need some firsthand experience to help you."

"Q," Picard ground out as he stood up bracing his hands flat on the desktop and leaning menacingly toward the entity.

"Time to worship your goddess, Mon Capitaine," Q mocked gleefully before all three vanished in another brilliant flash.

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

The blinding flash faded and Picard found himself standing on a high bluff overlooking an ocean, the vivid blue waters crashing against the coastline with frothy whitecaps. Farther down the coastline on a lower bluff was an immense carnival just as Vash had described. The sea breeze carried the sounds of laughter and music along with the tantalizing smell of exotic foods and fruit wines. The captain turned around to see a large, long, rectangular building constructed from a highly-polished, cerulean-colored stone. Pillars intricately carved to appear as tall waves with whitecaps ran along one of the shorter sides with the entrance in the center. His first thought was 'a temple,' right on the heels of that thought was the realization 'Vasharia's temple.' Shaking his head, he muttered, "Mon Dieu."

"Actually, ma deesse would be more precise," Q corrected from behind him.

"Where is she, Q?"

Q gestured toward the ancient temple. "Probably making herself at home."

"Naturally." Picard strode resolutely toward the entrance of the temple. Inside the structure, small sculptures of white-capped waves carved from a phosphorescent white stone hung along the walls providing the illumination. One quarter of the way into the building, stairs encompassing the entire width of the chamber led up to the second level containing lavishly-set banquet tables with fruits, wines, breads and such. Another set of stairs lead to the third level which held a large throne made of a sparkling crystal-like quartz shaped to look like a spray of water. A lavish drapery behind the throne hid the rest of the level from view. Beautiful waterfalls cascaded down along the sides of both sets of stairs.

Only three steps into the immense chamber, the captain was once again struck still. Appearing just as she had in the painting, Vash stood poised next to the crystal throne. The perfect curves of her feminine silhouette beckoned from beneath the sparkling filigree of her jeweled web-like gown. Sensual heat emanating from her vivid blue eyes combined with an enigmatic, come-hither expression on her lovely face to create an air of seductive mystique that left Picard breathless. Vash had been correct with her earlier assessment; from the moment he had first seen the painting, thoughts of making love to Vash, as Vasharia, claiming and possessing every inch of her for himself had taunted him. With her actually standing there the effect was devastating.

"And to think you were worried I might bestow mythical powers on Vash. Under these circumstances, not only would it be unnecessary, it would be redundant. The woman has always wielded an insurmountable sway over you," Q noted with a self-satisfied smirk on his face watching Picard stare up at Vash. "I warned you years ago about this being your Achilles' heel."

Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from his wife, Picard turned toward Q. "By bringing us here, you may have further disturbed the timeline."

"Nice evasive maneuver," the entity replied amused. "I'm well aware of your incessant adherence to ethics. You can relax, all of this is only a re-creation for your benefit. As Vash pointed out, you are intrigued by Vasharia."

"You were eavesdropping," Picard accused.

"A vice of mine, I'll admit. I could probably break the habit in a millennium or two but since I'm omnipotent why should I bother," Q confessed sounding unabashed. Gesturing toward the festival outside, he added, "I'll just be on my way now taking the revelers with me leaving you to your goddess."

Q glanced up at Vash, his eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. With a suggestive wink, he blew her a kiss before disappearing in his customary flash of bright light.

"Cad," Picard grumbled under his breath fighting to rein in his irritation. Q's leering and suggestive behavior toward Vash were just more of the entity's tactics to provoke him. Or were they? By his own admission, Q found Vash intriguing. They had spent two years together in the Gamma Quadrant presumably with the entity in a human male form. 'Don't go there,' Picard thought to himself firmly. Turning his attention back to Vash, he tugged at his jacket and squared his shoulders bracing himself to engage the little vixen.

'Oh yeah, bring it on, soldier, ' Vash thought, watching Jean-Luc purposely stalk up the stairs toward her. With every step he took, the intensity between them built. Her entire body flared into a highly charged state of anticipation, instinctively responding to the pure masculine virility of his commanding presence. The sensation spread across her breasts, the peaks hardening and pushing against her gown. She brazenly took the offensive using her sultriest voice, "ever make love to a goddess, Captain?"

Picard steeled himself as he walked up onto the third level. The sight of her as such an enchantress was wreaking havoc with his senses and her challenges always affected him like a potent aphrodisiac. He took a step past her, reaching out to draw back the blue drapery behind the throne. The luxurious fabric had the sheen of a charmeuse satin with a soft thick pile like rich velvet. The open drapery revealed an opulent sleeping chamber with a large, round, sumptuously-cushioned dais in the center of the room to serve as a bed. The dais was covered in collection of voluminous pillows and bedding made of the same extravagant material as the drapery. He turned to eye his wife expectantly.

"A goddess doesn't lounge on stone floors," Vash proclaimed while regally seating herself on her sparkling crystal throne. Jean-Luc moved to stand directly in front of her. Leaning forward and bracing his hands against the throne on either side of her shoulders, he lowered his face until his lips were just a hairsbreadth from hers. With every breath, the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave tantalized her. She gazed up into his handsome features; his penetrating, steel-grey eyes and the determination etched in the strong square line of his jaw sending a wave of arousal washing over her. With nothing more than his stare, he had her entire body thrumming with need.

Her nearness only served to fuel to the burning passions that had been threatening to engulf him all evening. In a rich, bedroom baritone, he inquired, "so is this your secret wish, to have every man offering himself to worship at your feet?"

"Not every man," she purred her gaze focusing on the firm set of his mouth. She reached up with one hand and sensuously brushed a fingertip over his bottom lip. "Just you."

"You already have my love and devotion," he vowed in a deep resonating whisper. The intensity of his emotions somewhat unnerving, he fought to keep a tight rein on his escalating desires. "What more does a goddess require?"

Her fingertip traced lazy circles around his rank pips before deliberately trailing down the gold piping on the front of his white jacket. She answered with a lascivious decree. "Insatiable passion and unbridled lust."

Picard's stomach muscles tensed as her fingertip coyly slid down his jacket to stop at the waistband of his trousers. His voice took on a decidedly wolfish tone, "Your wish is my command."

"Service me," she commanded brashly.

Picard captured her mouth with his in a fiercely possessive kiss. Giving full vent to his lust, he thrust his tongue inside to plunder and pillage the moist cavern. She met his intensity, forcing her tongue past his in her own erotic exploration of his mouth. Burying his hands in her dark hair, he entangled his fingers in the silky tresses and slowly sank to his knees. "Je suis a toi, ma deesse," he rasped hoarsely in her mouth. Heated blood surged through his veins, his need for her rising to an almost excruciating level. He slid his mouth from hers, moving to tenderly nibble on the soft skin of her neck, her pulse fluttering rapidly beneath his lips. He flicked his tongue against her pulse point, coaxing her to roll her head back so that he could lay a heated trail of kisses down the exposed curve of her throat. His hands moved of their own volition to unfasten the clasps running down the front of her gown. He slipped his hands inside the glittering gown and cupped her breasts, drawing deliberate circles around the hardened nipples with his thumbs. Savoring the sweet taste of her skin, his mouth made its way down the silken expanse of her skin toward the full curves in his hands. He traced the swell of her breasts with his tongue before placing an open mouth kiss at the center of her cleavage. His lips imprisoned the nipple of one of her breasts and he leisurely swirled his tongue over the taut peak. He nipped lightly at the hardened crest then began suckling strongly.

"Oh yes," Vash hissed inhaling sharply, her hands traveling across his scalp until her fingers tangled themselves in the fringe of grey hair at the nape of his neck. The heat from his tongue along with the pull of his mouth and the occasional scrape of his teeth had her pulsing uncontrollably and dripping wet with unsatisfied need; her entire body felt as if it were made of liquid flames.

Savoring her impassioned reactions, he ravenously feasted on first one breast and then the other. His mouth left her breasts to slowly journey down the smooth skin of her flat stomach to erotically explore her navel with his tongue. Gently nudging her legs apart, he moved to place an open mouth kiss behind her knee before slowly trailing hot, moist kisses up the creamy sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He heard her whimper in frustration when he repeated the procedure with the other thigh. He finally lowered his mouth to suckle her very core, his tongue flicking and caressing her. His arms slipped around her, his hands finding the roundness of her derriere. He cupped the supple flesh in his hands and pulled her against his mouth, his tongue thrusting inside to penetrate and fill her throbbing wetness. He felt her body shudder around him and she threw her head back, crying out her release. Her fingers tightly clutched his arms through the sleeves of his dress uniform as his tongue redoubled its assault on her senses. Her frantic movements at the sweet torment silently telling him she was once again on the threshold. Intoxicated by her scent and taste, he rode out the second, powerful release that gripped her. He kissed his way back up her taut, sweat-dampened body feeling her muscles contract under his questing mouth.

'Damn, he's good at that,' was Vash's first rational thought while collapsed back against the throne trying to catch her breath. With her eyes closed, she just relaxed for a long moment. First, she wanted to make sure her legs would hold her when she stood up. Second, there was no rush. This was a creation of Q's and time had no meaning here, truly stolen moments. Opening her eyes to see Jean-Luc watching her intently, she pondered the idea that she was getting a little too much enjoyment out of having 'Captain Heroic' on his knees at her feet, literally. 'Nah, it's good for him,' she decided standing up. Clasping both of his hands in hers, she silently coaxed him to his feet and led him toward the bed. She stopped at the foot of the bed releasing her hold on Jean-Luc's hands. Her attention was drawn to the fasteners of his jacket. She let her fingers trail deliberately down the jacket, every clasp receiving her intimate attention as she unfastened each one in turn.

Picard stared down at Vash, completely transfixed by the sensual sight of her slender, feminine fingers deftly working the fastens of his jacket. With her head bent forward slightly, her dark hair fell softly to brush his shoulders. Her sparkling gown hung open revealing the full length of her nude frame. His heated gaze traveled down past the full curves of her breasts with their creamy skin tipped by rosy peaks to her slim waist, the feminine curve of her hips, and those long shapely legs.

Opening the jacket as she went, Vash's hands slipped inside and traveled up to push it off his broad shoulders peeling it away to drop on the floor. Undoing the fasteners of his shirt, she pulled it down his arms to join his jacket. She slid her hands down the tapering lines of his body to the waistband of his trousers reveling in the ragged sound his breath made as he inhaled shakily. Her fingers tugged at his T-shirt, pulling it free of his waistband. Her hands skimmed over the sculpted muscles of his chest as she pushed the thin cloth out of her way until Jean-Luc finally pulled it off over his head. There was a sense of timelessness in the air, the feeling that nothing else existed. With Jean-Luc stripped to the waist, Vash's eyes drank in the well-defined muscles of his chest, shoulders and arms. She stroked and caressed his skin, just marveling at the tightly leashed strength contained in his lean, muscular body. Her hands journeyed down the masculine slope of his shoulders to linger on the bulging biceps of his upper arms. Slowly she circled him, the play of the strong muscles beneath her fingertips inflaming her senses. Her hands traveled over the firm planes of his back following the strong curve of his spine down to the small of his back and then up to his shoulders. Still breathless, her voice came out husky and passion-laced, "You are the most amazing man, the epitome of masculine virility."

The tone of Vash's voice along with the feel of her small hands roaming over him was driving Picard to insatiable need. Throbbing painfully, his body was screaming for her, frustrated at the leisurely, tormenting pace that she had set.

Vash came around to stand in front of him again, their earlier interlude not nearly enough to satisfy her. Vash ran her hands over his strong thighs to find and caress the evidence of his desire for her. Even through the fabric of his trousers, his body’s arousal throbbed under her touch. She deftly opened his trousers, wrapping her hand around the firm length she savored his sharp gasp. God, he was so hot and hard, pulsating in her hands. She took up a familiar rhythm, savoring the contrast in textures of rock-solid hardness covered by soft, velvety skin. A heated rush of arousal surged through her entire body. Releasing him and stepping back toward the bed she taunted seductively, "My command is your desire."

Picard quickly stripped off his boots and trousers. Vash turned to face the bed with her back to him and gracefully rolling her shoulders, she slid her gown off in one fluid movement. Displaying the swift agility of a jungle cat, he took a step forward reaching out to catch the gown before it hit the floor tossing it over to the bed. His eyes hungrily raked over every inch of her following the graceful curve of her spine to her slender waist over the roundness of her backside and down her long legs. Standing right behind her, his arms encircled her waist. He heard her moan softly as his hands skimmed up the smooth plane of her stomach to the full curves of her breasts. The sight of her breasts with their lush roundness and ivory skin tipped with deep rosy peaks cupped in his hands sent a surge of desire coursing over him. He trailed the fingers of one hand down her taut midriff to comb through the small, dark curls below her belly button and then lower still. Finally reaching his destination, his fingers moved against her, into her, her arousal bathing his fingertips as he inflamed the moist heat already aching for him. His fingers continued to caress and fill her, erotically searching for her body's rhythm until her hips started to move against his hand. Her supple curves writhed back against his own hardness, shooting pulses of pure fire through his body. Nudging aside the curtain of brunette hair, he lowered his mouth to nibble on the soft skin of her neck just behind her ear. The way her body tightly clenched against his fingers with each caress told him she was on the threshold. From deep in his throat he growled, "you're close again, petite amie. The goddess demanded insatiable passion and unbridled lust. So that is precisely what she will get."

The timbre of his bedroom baritone reverberated against the tender skin of her neck. The sensation sent shivers racing along her spine. Her body arched like a drawn bow as his talented fingers created a throbbing need almost painful in its intensity. She was lost in the pleasure consuming her body, his fingers filling her, nimbly stoking and inflaming the explosive forces mounting inside her. The evidence of his arousal rocked against her backside with each writhing motion of her body, frustrating in its nearness. With the skill of a maestro, he was taking her nearer and nearer to insanity. Closing her eyes, she bit her lower lip as the burning needs his questing hand was building threatened to overwhelm her. His powerful arms held her, his fingers pausing in their actions which drew a whimper from her throat. The whimper became a startled gasp when he bent her forward to lean against the bed and drove himself deep into her body. She braced her hands against the soft bedding, his fingers once again tormenting her but now his body was filling her relentlessly, every nerve ending in her body focused on the spiral of pleasure that was consuming her. Even when she bucked back against him, her body spasming ceaselessly in the throes of yet more pleasure, he didn't stop. She was struggling for air yet she heard herself begging, "more, oh God, more."

He shifted to brace himself against the edge of the dais and urged her head down onto the bed in order to drive himself even deeper into the heated depths of her body. She was trembling beneath his hands, every muscle in her body rippling with the pleasure that he was giving her. Her breathless gasps pierced the silence of the temple and he knew that her fair skin would be flushed with her exertions, her blue eyes sparkling to luminescence from her orgasms. He wanted to see that, he wanted to look into her eyes and watch her surrender to mindless bliss at his hands. Pulling out, he drew her onto the bed, turning her onto her back and settling between her sweat-dampened thighs. Her hands were frantically caressing him, trying to pull him back inside of her and he captured them, drawing them over their heads and holding them in one of his larger hands. He didn't need to urge her thighs apart so he slowly lowered himself back into her body. Remarkably, she jerked against him, a tremor of release triggered by the gradual re-joining of their bodies. He began an erotically-charged tempo of methodically withdrawing almost completely out of her body and then thrusting hard and fast to completely bury himself. The slow-fast pace was causing Vash to orgasm repeatedly, each one following so fast on the heels of another that it became one long, continuous release. His entire body was straining from the effort of the demanding and challenging pace; as his own pleasure tautened and grew, he struggled to maintain the tempo. Releasing her hands, he pushed against the bedding, finally yielding to his desire and driving his body into hers as fast as he could. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, her sexual exhaustion even more of a stimulant to his own arousal. Reluctant for the quest for pleasure to end, he groaned loudly in a combination of disappointment and satisfaction as a powerful orgasm drained him.

Her body still quivering, she shifted comfortably beneath the weight of her exhausted husband. Still gasping for breath, she chuckled, "damn, that was so good the entire Continuum probably needs a cigarette."

Picard's only response was to roll off to lay beside her, sighing loudly.

Vash situated them both snuggly under the covers and reclined back against the pillows. "Speaking of the devil, have you decided what you're going to do about the situation on my planet."

"First of all, stop referring to it as your planet," he murmured with an amused grin. "Second, I'm chalking it up to Starfleet General Order 153."

"Which is Starfleetese for . . ."

"Act of Q."

The all-too-familiar flash lit the room. Q stood at the foot of the bed and gushed, "I'm flattered, mon capitaine."

"Hello, Q." Vash sat up holding the blanket over herself, unruffled by the entity's sudden appearance.

With another flash, Q disappeared only to reappear lounging across the bed with his head cradled in Vash's lap. Gazing up at her, he inquired, "this little contest of yours, did you win?"

"More times than I can count," she noted with smug satisfaction.

"Get off of her, Q!" Picard ground out between clenched teeth quickly losing patience with entity's presumptuous behavior toward Vash.

"I'm sure he didn't mean that the way it sounded," Q told Vash making a slightly dismissive gesture toward Picard with his hand.

"Like hell I didn't," the starship captain's low snarl was cold and dangerous. "Now Q!"

"Very well, this jealous streak isn't like you, Jean-Luc. You've always been ridiculously overprotective of her, with the most entertaining panic attacks concerning her safety, but never jealous." Q leisurely got up to stand next to the bed. Turning to Vash, he added, "I can see why you left that one detail out of your report."

"What detail?" she sounded baffled.

"The Verathan crown prince who begged you on his knees to be his consort," Q reminded her gleefully.

"Oh that; I said no," Vash rolled her eyes in pained exasperation at the memory. Answering Jean-Luc's questioning expression, she explained, "it's not like it sounds."

"When the two of you are involved it never is," Picard grumbled before turning his attention back to Q, "and I'm not jealous."

After casting a quick meaningful glance at her husband, Vash addressed Q, "I'm sure Jean-Luc appreciates this pleasant surprise as much as I do. The extra time to spend alone with one another was a very generous gift."

Although he hated owing this omnipotent, pain-in-the-ass anything, Picard cherished every moment spent with Vash and was forced to acceding her point. "She's right Q, thank you."

"You're welcome, Jean-Luc," the entity replied with only a hint of his usual sarcasm.

"I love the feel of this. My only regret is not bringing any of this marvelous material back with me." Vash toyed with the soft, shimmery material of the blanket. Noticing the silent reprimand in Jean-Luc's eyes, she added, "What? It's my temple."

Q watched the couple's exchange with a grin. "I'd better send you back before Johnny decides not to allow us to play together anymore."

With another blinding flash, Picard found Vash and himself alone, back in their quarters with everything just as it had been before. Turning to his desk, he checked the computer interface. "According to the computer we never left the ship and my conversation with Geordi ended just one minute ago."

"The power of the Q," she replied adjusting the robe of her blue velvet peignoir.

Picard returned his attention to Vash, her appearance of utter sexual contentment the only outwardly visible sign of what just transpired. She was always so beautiful after lovemaking, with a rosy flush that swept up her ivory skin highlighting her delicate features and her lush lips swollen from his kisses. Giving her a small smile, he lamented in a charmingly wry tone, "a Verathan crown prince begged you on his knees to be his consort?"

Vash slowly sauntered across the room stopping to stand right in front of him. She stared up into his grey eyes. "Well to be fair, he had a pretty tough act to follow."

"Yes, I'm sure Q . . ."

Placing a finger to his lips to silence him, she cooed softly, "actually, I was referring to the dashing and devastatingly handsome captain of a Federation starship I met on Risa."

Surprised by her remark, Picard was having difficulty finding a suitable response. Moving her hand up to rest on the collar of his uniform, her mouth met his in an impassioned kiss. Vash slid the hand on his collar over his shoulder and splayed the other hand across the back of his head pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her svelte frame, holding her tightly to him. The subtle, provocative scent of her perfume along with the feel of the soft velvet of her peignoir beneath his fingertips stirred his senses. For a brief moment, he entertained the notion of sweeping her into the bedroom for another round of lovemaking. He sternly banished the thought, reminding himself that he had work to do and she needed her sleep.

Breaking the kiss, she tenderly brushed her fingertips down along his strong jawline. "Je t' aime, Jean-Luc."

"Je t' aime," he echoed, taking Vash's hand in his and raising it to his lips to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

"Don't be too long." With that last wifely command, she turned and walked into their bedroom.

A long while later, Picard closed down the last file he had been working on. He stood up retrieving his jacket from the back of the chair and made his way to the bedroom. He stopped to stand in the doorway. Vash was sound asleep on his side of the bed with Q standing over her. Looking down at her, the entity readjusted the covers around her shoulders and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from her face revealing her lovely features, so innocent--almost angelic-- in sleep.

"It seems I'm not the only one Vash holds sway over," the captain observed quietly.

"Touché, mon capitaine, touché," Q whispered walking over to stand next to Picard. "I find her endearing and I admit I miss experiencing the wonder of seeing the universe through her eyes. We had fun."

"So she said." Picard crossed his arms and regarded his sleeping wife. Vash shifted in her sleep and murmured his name. He glanced at the entity. Did he really see or just imagine the flick of emotion that darkened Q's expression for a moment. He replayed the evening's events in his head. The missing piece fell into the puzzle and things made sense. "This was all for her. You did it for her."

"Take good care of her, Picard. She is, as you humans say, a pearl of great price. Au revior," Q raised his hand and paused adding, "oh, and in the morning, make sure she sees the bolt of Verathan material." With a brilliant flash, he was gone.

Seeing the bolt of material leaning against the bedroom chair, Picard sighed, "au revior, Q."

***FINIS***

The Wolf with the red Roses

Reasons of the Heart Index