Title:
Here There Be Q-nicorns
Author:
Whoa Nellie ([email protected])
Series:
TNG
Rating:
NC-17
Codes:
P/Vash
Rating:
NC-17
Synopsis: On the eve of Picard and Vash's first
anniversary Q shows up to bestow a gift.
He changes Vash into a virgin and throws the couple into a medieval
adventure complete with knights, castle and dragons. This story was originally
posted to ASC on March 20, 1999 and occurs in the Whoa Nellie universe
"Double Entendre" timeline, accepting all TNG canon through the movie
"Generations" while adding Vash (from the TNG episodes 'Captain's
Holiday' and 'Qpid') onboard as the ship's chief archaeologist.
As
always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing
with them.
Feedback
is always appreciated - posted or e-mail.
Whoa
Nellie's Romance Star Trek Fan Fiction Stories
http://whoanellie.fortunecity.com
Here
There Be Q-nicorns
"Jean-Luc, could you please
undo this for me?" Vash Picard sighed plaintively to her husband. The couple had just returned to their
quarters on the Enterprise E after an evening of dinner and dancing on Starbase
219 to celebrate their first anniversary.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard turned
to see his lovely wife standing next to their bed struggling with the top clasp
on the back of her evening gown. The
long column of black velvet skimmed the feminine curves of her delicate frame. The slit that ran up the right side of the
skirt to mid-thigh revealed a generous length of leg with her every step. Making his way over to stand behind her,
Picard replied in his deepest bedroom baritone, "Of course, ma chere. It would be my pleasure."
Vash's hands dropped to her
sides as Jean-Luc began to unfasten the clasps. He nudged beneath a curtain of shoulder-length, brown hair to
nuzzle the sensitive skin on the back of her neck. Her senses stirred as he trailed feathery kisses from the nape of
her neck to just under her right earlobe.
As he nibbled and toyed with her ear, she could feel him gently pull on
her crystal-drop earring. With a
giggle, she admonished him, "If you're not careful, Johnny, you're going
to choke on that earring."
"Not to worry," Picard
chuckled softly against her neck as his hands finally reached last clasp of her
gown at the small of her back. Drawing
in a deep breath, he savored the sweet scent that always lingered in her silky,
brunette hair. He slipped his hands
inside her dress, encircling her tiny waist to caress her satiny skin.
The warmth from his large hands
as they tenderly stroked her skin caused a shiver of excitement to race down
Vash's spine. However, she had
something else planned for the evening.
"Thank you, Jean-Luc. I can
handle it from here."
"You're so beautiful. I've been looking forward to making long,
slow, passionate love to you all evening," he murmured determinedly into
the soft skin of her neck.
"At ease, Captain,"
Vash teased, as she quickly pulled away from his hands and spun to face
him. With his sleek, muscular build,
steel-grey eyes, and chiseled features, Jean-Luc looked quite dashing as he
stood there in full dress uniform.
Holding her gown up, she continued, "I've been saving something
special for tonight and I would at least like the chance to put it on."
Picard's gaze trailed over every
curve of her shapely silhouette before returning to her vivid blue eyes. Giving her his most suave smile, he
mused, "I have no idea why you bother
with things that are going to end up in a heap on the floor next to our bed in
a matter of minutes."
"Just consider them various
tests of your response time, darling," she quipped, patting his shoulder
before heading off to the bathroom to change.
As she passed the dresser, she noticed the vase that held the dozen red
roses he had sent her that afternoon.
She paused at the bathroom door, "I meant to thank you for the
gorgeous roses."
"You're quite
welcome," Picard called to her as she disappeared into the bathroom. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he
continued, "I noticed you had them in here."
"Did you also notice
something else about this evening, or actually the lack of something else this
evening?" Vash asked.
"Lack of something?" he
inquired, sounding bewildered.
"No interruptions. Not one single, solitary hail from the
bridge all evening. It can be
done!" she called triumphantly from the bathroom. "It may have taken me a year, but I
finally figured out how to have you all to myself."
"If I may be so bold as to
ask, how did you arrange that?"
Vash sounded very pleased with
herself as she explained, "It was so simple really. While I was talking to Will earlier today, I
steered the conversation toward the subject of the constant interruptions you
and I seem to face. I told him that I
bet we would not make it through tonight without you getting at least one
hail. You and I both know the one thing
Will Riker can't pass up is a good wager.
So, I bet Will one bottle of Chateau Picard that either he or someone
else on the ship would call you before the night was over. It was a bet I was counting on Will making
sure he won."
Picard sat on the edge of the
bed, completely astounded for a moment.
Vash had purposely set out to make that wager with Will. She knew it would become a matter of
personal pride for Will to keep Picard himself from receiving any
interruptions. This woman could talk a
Ferengi into giving up all of his profits.
"Vash, that was shrewd, cunning, not to mention totally
Machiavellian." A smile of
admiration pulled at his lips as he finished, "And absolutely
brilliant!"
"I try," she replied
just before she finally emerged from the bathroom.
"Sacre bleu'," Picard
gasped under his breath as he saw Vash poised in the bathroom doorway wearing a
babydoll negligee and matching panties of the palest pink. Thin straps and lace covered satin barely
contained the lush roundness of her breasts.
A double layer of pale pink chiffon falling from just below her bustline
to her upper thigh made for a diaphanous veil over her feminine curves. The sight was a dizzying blend of naughty
and nice. He let his gaze travel down
the shapely length of her legs before returning to her face. In a deep, resonating whisper, he marveled,
"You're simply the most alluring woman I've ever seen."
"Thank you," Vash said
quietly, flushing slightly at the intensity of his gaze and the warm timbre of
his voice. Suddenly feeling shy, she
demurely averted her eyes and made her way over to the dresser to idly toy with
the roses.
As she distracted herself with
the flowers, Picard took the opportunity to study Vash. Her hair fell in a soft cascade to her
shoulders, framing her rose-petal lips and the flutter of her dark lashes. Her delicate features were highlighted by
the warm blush that colored the ivory skin of her cheeks. Her bashful response to his praise combined
with the way the sweet nothing of a negligee charmingly revealed more than it
concealed gave her an air of innocent sexuality. All at once, he pictured her as a young woman giving herself to a
lover for the first time. 'Now there is
an intriguing notion.' Picard thought.
Vash was such a passionate lover.
To have seen her take the first steps toward discovering that passion would
have been an extraordinary experience.
"Vash," Picard gently
beckoned as he stood up and walked over to stand next to her. Tenderly, he cupped her chin in his hand and
drew her gaze up to his. He stared down
into her blue eyes, saying softly, "Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime," Vash
managed to whisper back just before his lips captured hers in an impassioned
kiss. Jean-Luc moved his hand to the
back of her head, entangling it in her hair, pushing her lips closer to his and
deepening the kiss. His tongue plunged
past her lips, claiming everything in its path. As her lips and tongue responded ardently to his, Vash's arms
slipped around his neck. Jean-Luc had
one powerful arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her as her body
melted against his. The clean,
masculine scent of his aftershave and the sensation of the rough wool of his
dress uniform through the flimsy fabric of her negligee threatened to
completely undo her.
The couple didn't even notice
the bright flash of light in the room.
An acerbic voice sounded in the room, "I hope I'm not interrupting
anything."
As Vash let out a alarmed gasp,
Picard broke off the embrace and spun to face the intruder, "Who the hell
. . ."
"Just moi," Q called
out.
"Q," Picard huffed in
disgust.
"Bonjour, Mon Capitaine,
Madame Picard," Q greeted them cheerfully.
From behind him, Vash peered
over Jean-Luc's shoulder. Quickly
recovering her composure, she quipped, "I suppose just killing him is out
of the question."
"But, Madame, I come bearing
a wedding gift," the entity implored.
"You leaving would be gift
enough," Picard stated flatly.
Vash sighed with annoyance and leaned against the dresser.
"Ooh la la," Q crowed,
staring past Picard at the very, scantily clad Vash. As she crossed her arms protectively in front of herself, he
added with a salacious leer, "I most certainly did interrupt
something."
"Merde!" Picard
cursed, ripping off his dress uniform jacket as he turned back to Vash. Using his body to block Q's view, he helped
her slip on the jacket and quickly fasten it up. He was immensely grateful that he had chosen to wear the long
crimson dress jacket rather than the shorter, white dinner jacket. With his jacket hitting her at mid-thigh,
leaving her long legs exposed, she still appeared very seductive. 'At least it covers the rest of her.' Picard
thought to himself.
As much as she tried, Vash could
not quite hide a small smile that tugged at her lips. Answering Jean-Luc's questioning look, she explained, "I've
never seen you take this jacket off so fast."
"He's had more than enough
of a show for tonight," Picard grumbled before turning his attention back
to Q. "Go away, Q."
The entity ignored him. Instead, he cooed, "Oh Vash, I'm
hurt. You never dressed, or should I
say undressed, for me that way."
"I'm sorry, darling,"
Vash told Jean-Luc calmly as she took the roses out of the vase and laid them
on the dresser. Picking up the vase,
she turned to face Q. "Get out,
you despicable, wretched, intergalactic, peeping Tom!"
The vase hurled through the air
toward Q, impacting on the wall behind him in a thunderous explosion of glass
shards and water. Q looked back at the
wall and then at Vash. Sounding very
amused, he told her, "Impressive, my dear. You went from sex kitten to hell cat in the blink of an eye. And I thought I was the quick-change artist
around here."
Reaching up, Vash tapped the
communicator on Jean-Luc's jacket, "Picard to security."
"Now, you really didn't
think I would allow that did you?" Q sighed when no response came to the
hail. With a snap of his fingers, the
entity reinstated the vase and roses to their original condition on the
dresser.
Vash glanced back at the
restored roses. Throwing her hands up
in resignation, she huffed, "Okay boys, that's it! I'm not playing anymore."
Q watched as Vash went over and
sat on the bed. He turned back to
Picard and chuckled, "She certainly is quick to throw your name around,
mon Capitaine."
"It now happens to be her
name as well," the captain reminded Q.
"So it is," the entity
nodded. As he eyed Vash sitting on the
bed attired in Picard's jacket, he smirked, "Right now, she makes your
uniform more appealing than you ever did.
If you ask me, that would make Starfleet a sublime recruitment
poster."
"I didn't ask," Picard
answered curtly. "Is there a point
to this little visit, Q, or are you here just to leer at my wife?"
Q chuckled conspiratorially, as
if speaking man to man. "If ogling Vash was the point of my visit, I would
have waited before appearing. I mean,
how much longer could it have taken you to remove that little pink
number?"
Quickly losing patience with the
situation, Picard snapped, "Your point, Q!"
"As I said earlier, I come
bearing a gift," Q reminded him gleefully. Feigning embarrassment, he added, "I was simply chagrined
that I let the big day slip by with out an acknowledgment. And I know exactly what you want, Jean-Luc."
Picard huffed in frustration,
"Q, there is absolutely nothing that I want from you."
"Oh but there is, mon
Capitaine. A flight of fancy only I can
carry out for you."
"I have no idea what
'flight of fancy' you could possibly be blathering about," Picard
retorted.
"Why, the little daydream you
were so enjoying, inspired by Vash's apparel or lack there of," Q sneered.
Sighing with annoyance, Vash
asked, "Q, just how long have you been spying on us?"
"Long enough to know that
you were worried Johnny might just swallow your earring," Q informed
her. His tone turned conspiratorial,
"But wouldn't you rather know exactly what the hubby was fantasizing
about?"
"After you leave, I'll just
ask him," she answered matter of factly.
"Trust me. My way will be much more fun," Q
responded cheerfully. Turning his
attention back to Picard, he taunted, "So Captain, are you ready to go
where no man has gone before?"
"What the devil . . ."
Picard grumbled, wondering what Q was referring to. The entity had obviously been intruding upon the privacy of his
thoughts. He glanced over at Vash. All of a sudden, he recalled the sight of
her standing there in the delicate negligee and how he had imagined her as if
she was giving herself to a lover for the first time. His expression darkened with anger, Q couldn't possibly mean . .
.
"By Jove, I think he's got
it!" Q crowed, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Picard glared menacingly at the
entity. It was one thing for Q to put
him through these little tests, including Vash was something else entirely. He hissed, "Stay away from my wife,
Q! And forget whatever twisted game you
are plotting!"
Rising off the bed, Vash made
her way to her husband's side. She
reached up and gently laid her hand on his cheek, "Calm down and unclench
your jaw. He's simply trying to get a rise out of you."
"No, my little turtledove,
I believe that's your job," Q smirked.
"Let it go, Jean-Luc. He's not worth it." With her hand
resting on his upper arm, Vash tried to soothe her now seething husband.
"Having him on my ship is
bad enough. Having him peering in my
head and in our bedroom is intolerable," Picard ground out.
"I know," Vash
nodded. Turning to face Q, she asked
wearily, "Am I to presume that I'm about to be, once again, cast as the
helpless, fragile damsel-in-distress in yet another little charade of
yours?"
"Don't blame me," Q
protested. "It is your dear husband who is entertaining fantasies about
being the one to have claimed your maidenhood."
"My maidenhood?" Vash
sounded baffled for a moment. Then she
realized what Q was saying. In
astonishment, Vash glanced over her shoulder at her husband. "Were you
really fantasizing about taking my virginity?"
"I wouldn't call it a
fantasy. It was more like a passing
whim," Picard offered in explanation, his mood softened by his amusement
at her surprise.
"I see," she cooed in
reply. Unable to help herself from
following this further, she turned to face Jean-Luc. She reached up and splayed her hands across the expanse of his
chest, feeling the hard muscles through his tunic. As she stared up into his grey eyes with a come-hither
expression, her tone was flirtatious. "And this whimsy of yours, does it
entail you seducing and ravishing my untouched, virginal body as you introduce
me to the carnal pleasures of the flesh?"
"Absolutely," he
chuckled softly as he returned her gaze and wrapped his arms around her
waist. "Does that shock you?"
"No, not really," she
answered with a coy smile. "But, it has been a awhile since I've been able
to see a unicorn."
"In case the two of you
have forgotten, I'm still here," Q huffed in contempt.
Picard forced himself to drag
his eyes from his wife and turn his attention back to the very powerful
entity. "Believe me, Q, I'm aware
you're here, painfully aware."
"Splendid. I must admit my curiosity has been
peeked. What do unicorns, a fictional
Terran beast, have to do with any of this?" Q asked.
"So much for
omnipotence," Vash giggled.
Turning around in Jean-Luc's arms, she leaned back against his chest and
explained to Q, "In Earth mythology, Unicorns represent purity. According to medieval European folklore, the
unicorn could only be seen by a virgin."
"How fascinating!" Q
declared happily just before a blinding flash lit the room.
..................................................................................
As his eyes began to focus
again, Picard found Vash was gone from
his arms and he was standing alone in a forest. He was dressed as a nobleman from around the fifteenth or
sixteenth century; black leather boots, black buckskin trousers, and a crimson
velvet doublet over a white silk shirt.
He noticed Q had not left out details.
The doublet, which was the same crimson as his Starfleet uniform, had
the Picard family crest embroidered in gold thread on the chest. There was a heavy leather belt with a
scabbard around his waist. In the
scabbard was a broadsword with an elaborately jeweled hilt. Hung over one of his arms was a heavy cloak
of black wool. With a sigh of disgust,
he called, "Q."
"Over here, and not so loud
or My Lordship might reveal our presence," Q replied from where he stood
at the edge of the forest just a few yards away.
Picard looked over at Q. The entity was dressed as a squire and was
holding the reigns of a white Arabian stallion. Ignoring Q for the moment, Picard made his way over to examine
the horse. It was a beautiful animal,
standing about fifteen hands high with a perfect, graceful build. The equestrian in Picard had definitely taken
over. Hearing the horse whinny softly,
Picard ran his hand down the animal's neck and spoke soothingly "Easy
boy. You're truly a handsome
mount."
"Is your wife aware of your
preoccupation with these beasts?" Q asked, miffed at being ignored.
"Oh yes. In fact, she would be rather taken by this
animal. Vash claims the Arabian is the
breed that best suits me and has often talked of acquiring one for me." Picard commented as he patted the
horse. He looked at Q pointedly,
"Speaking of which, where is she?"
"I was wondering when you
were going to ask that," Q smiled as he gestured for Picard to look past
the tree line. "She's down
there."
Picard moved for a better view
past the trees. They were on a bluff
overlooking a small medieval town. The
town was a fortress, completely enclosed by a twenty foot high wall. In the center of this town was a rather
horrid appearing castle. Something
caught Picard's attention, there was a strange creature chained in the castle's
courtyard. It looked like a giant
lizard, approximately the size of an elephant.
However, the creature had a neck as long as a giraffe and scaly
wings. Incredulously, Picard asked,
"A dragon?"
"Of course. When it comes to the two of you, I want all
the trimmings. I spare no expense, so
to speak." Q sounded very pleased with himself. "See, you're going to slay the dragon."
"Oh, I am," Picard
sighed as he leaned against a tree and folded his arms, "Why?"
"Because, at noon today,
the evil ruler of that kingdom, Lord Baracada, is going to sacrifice a virgin
to the dragon in order to gain powers of sorcery. You're the knight that must save the maiden and take her to the
safety of your kingdom. Getting into
the city won't pose much of a problem, the gates are open. However, getting out will be another
story. Once you've ruined Baracada's
plans for the day, I'm sure that he will close the city in order to stop you
from escaping," the entity informed him.
"Baracada? Sounds to me as if whoever wrote this little
fairy tale misspelled barracuda."
Picard's face showed almost open amusement. "Am I to understand that Vash is the chaste maiden in
question?"
"Of course."
"There's one small problem,
Q."
"That is, mon
Capitaine?"
"Vash is not a
virgin," Picard said calmly. "I
should know, after all, I am her husband."
"Not to worry, I have
restored her ability to see unicorns," Q assured him.
"What?" Picard asked,
not liking where he knew this was going.
"I've restored Vash's
virginity physically, as well as suppressing all memory she has of her own
sexual activity. She remembers your
courtship and love affair, but not your marriage. She has no memory of any physical intimacy with you, or anyone
else for that matter," Q explained smugly.
Picard glared menacingly at the
entity, "Q."
"Well, from here on out,
you'll have to carry on without me. I
have another pressing engagement,"
Q replied in a casual tone. "You
get to rescue her, sweep her off her feet and deflower her all at once. Enjoy yourself, Mon Capitaine."
And with a flash, Q was gone.
"Damn," Picard cursed
under his breath as he began to take stock of his situation. He checked the horse's saddlebags, finding
suitable provisions and a sizable purse of gold coins. Surveying his surroundings, it didn't take
him very long to spot a passable trail down to the town. He gathered the horse's reins and swung
himself up into the saddle. He was
pleasantly surprised to find the saddle was almost identical to his own saddle
that he kept on the Enterprise.
"Well, my noble friend, it
looks like it's up to the two of us to save the fair maiden," Picard
remarked, guiding the horse toward the trail.
Then he spurred the horse down toward the town.
.................................................................
"My dear, I can sacrifice
any virgin in the land to the dragon to complete the sorcery incantation. Agree to become my concubine, and I will
spare you and choose another," Lord Vlad Baracada offered coarsely as he
circled the attractive young woman standing in his throne room.
"If my choice is between
you and the dragon, I opt to take my chances with our lizard friend out
there," Vash scoffed as she met Baracada's stare. He was a tall, thin man with very aquiline
features. All dressed in black with his
cloak fluttering around his heels, he reminded Vash of Bram Stoker's conception
of Dracula.
This all had a feeling of
deja-vu, or maybe she should say Deja-Q.
At least Sir Guy was offering marriage, but even her memory of that
scenario had voids in it. How could she
remember every plot twist of Stoker's tale and not remember what she was doing
before Q transported her from the Enterprise.
That's where she had to have been.
After all, she was the head archaeologist onboard, not to mention the
captain's fianceé.
Baracada's cold voice
interrupted her thoughts, "I wouldn't count on your intended coming to
your rescue. Picard's probably wenching
his way through some brothel as we speak."
Although she knew Baracada was
only tormenting her, Vash fought to quell a small seed of jealousy. Jean-Luc had not even kissed her, the
thought of him dallying with some trollop heightened her anxiety about her own
perceived inexperience. 'Stop
that! Jean-Luc loves you, wants to
marry you, and has told you so countless times,' she told herself firmly. Closing her eyes, she thought back to
working with him to pull an artifact out of the mud pits on Cenar VII. When the damn thing finally worked lose, it
sent both of them falling onto their seats in the next pit. Smiling as he flopped back into the mud, he
had chuckled, 'I love you.'
"Speechless?" Baracada
jeered.
Vash opened her eyes to glare at
him, boasting with false bravado, "No.
Just imagining you sliding off the blade of his sword."
"Well, my sweet, as Picard
is sliding off my sword, I'll make sure he knows you were charming to the
last," he retorted. Gesturing to
his guards, he commanded, "Take her to the rock."
......................................................................................
Carefully hidden on one of the
castle's battlements, Picard surveyed the courtyard below. At the far end of the courtyard, the dragon
was pulling at one end of it's chain.
The other end of the bulky chain was wound around an immense winch. Embedded in the middle of the courtyard was
a large boulder, about the size of a small shuttlecraft. There was a chain with shackles hanging from
the boulder. Beneath Picard was an
opulent review stand, where Baracada and a few members of his personal guard
were standing. A large crowd had
gathered on either side of the review stand.
The scene reminded Picard of descriptions of public beheadings during
the French Revolution.
"Subtle Q. Real subtle," Picard muttered under his
breath, getting his first glimpse of Vash as she was being lead to the
boulder. It was obvious to him that the
pale pink gown she now wore was inspired by the babydoll nightie she had on
when Q first appeared. The scooped
necked bodice with cap sleeves was lace covered satin. Two diaphanous layers of chiffon fell from
the empire waistline over the pale pink satin skirt. As the guards shackled her wrists to the boulder, the wispy
layers of her skirt snapped against the rock in the steady breeze. Concealing himself in the shadows, Picard
started to make his way down off the castle wall.
Vash stared above her head at
her bound wrists. If only she could
pull them down to her mouth, then she could use her teeth to pull out the pin
that held the shackles closed. She
tugged futilely at the chain. So much
for that plan. All at once, she heard a
terrible mechanical grinding. She
looked to see the winch slowly turning, releasing more and more of the dragon's
chain. As the dragon slowly got closer,
Vash thought, 'Where is Jean-Luc?'
Knowing precisely who was responsible for the whole situation, she
hissed, "Q!"
"You called, my Lady?"
the entity's disembodied voice asked.
"Yes, I called! End this and put me back on the Enterprise
where I belong!"
"All in due time,
dearest." Q's voice cooed. "Right now, I want you to look past the
dragon to the castle wall and tell me what you see?"
Vash stared past the dragon to
see a lone, white horse standing in front of the wall. No wait, it wasn't a horse. It had a single, long horn coming from the
top of it's head. Bemused, she asked,
"The unicorn? What about it?"
"Nothing, just assessing my
handiwork," he replied, sounding very pleased with himself.
"Fine. Dragons and unicorns, you get an A+ in
recreating mythical beasts," she huffed in exasperation. "Now, Get me out of here."
"I'll admit I've outdone
myself, but not in creating the mythical beasts. Au revior, chere."
"Q. Q? Q!" Vash
called. No luck, he was gone. Vash glanced fearfully back at the
dragon. It had traversed half the
distance to her. The large monster
continuously pulled at its chain, its powerful maw snapping hungrily in her
direction. Frantically, Vash started
pulling at and twisting in her bonds.
As she paused a moment to catch her breath, a commotion in the crowd
caught her attention.
Vash nearly sobbed with
overwhelming relief. With his drawn
broadsword gleaming in the noon sun, Jean-Luc was storming toward her and the
dragon astride an Arab charger. None of
Baracada's men were following him. They were probably afraid that the
over-grown gecko wasn't real selective about his meals.
With his first pass, Picard
brought his sword to bear on the chain imprisoning Vash, severing it from the
stone. Pausing only to make sure that
she had managed to remove the shackles, he urged, "Stay back, and use the
rock for cover if necessary."
"What did you think I was
going to do, run toward it or something?" Vash yelled after him as he and
the horse galloped off, full tilt toward the dragon. The enormous beast lowered his head to meet Jean-Luc's oncoming
charge. At the last moment, Jean-Luc
veered to the side, using his broadsword to slice open the creature from its
shoulder all the way past its hind leg.
The monster howled and began to curl itself toward its injured side. Using the distraction during his next pass,
Jean-Luc brought his sword down on the dragon's neck, severing its head. Covering her mouth with her hand and
suppressing a gag reflex, Vash thought, 'Okay, Jean-Luc, I think it's dead
now!'
Picard galloped past Baracada's
tented review stand. Slashing through
its supports with his sword, he sent the whole thing tumbling to the ground
causing utter chaos. Sheathing his
sword, he brought the horse to a halt in front of Vash. Reaching down, Picard took hold of her arm
to quickly pull her up into the saddle behind him. "Come on, it's time to
leave."
"I take it this means you
weren't serious back at Nottingham when you said that you were not going to
bother rescuing me anymore." Vash
quipped.
"Now, you know damn well I
didn't mean that." Picard sighed
with exasperation and glanced back at her briefly. Placing her arms around his waist, he told her, "Hold on
tight, this could get rough."
As the pair rode toward the
courtyard entrance, Baracada extracted himself from beneath his collapsed
viewing stand. Struggling to his feet,
he bellowed, "Seize them!"
"Seize this, you
bastard!" Vash called back to
Baracada as their horse bolted out of the courtyard and onto a town
street. Not willing to risk turning his
head to look at her, Picard could only imagine which one of any number of
obscene gestures went with those words.
.................................................................................
After about five minutes of
riding at a hard gallop and turning countless corners, Picard brought the horse
to a stop in a small, dark alley between two buildings. "We should
probably stop for a moment and let the horse rest."
"The horse?" Vash
sighed wearily from behind him. As she
collapsed against his strong frame, she laid her cheek against the back of his
shoulder. "In case you haven't
noticed, I'm not exactly dressed for this sort of hard riding."
"No, you aren't, are
you? You'd probably be more comfortable
up here." Picard said, turning his head to give her a gentle smile. Letting go of the reins, he effortlessly
lifted her into his arms and placed her in front of him, sidesaddle. "We'll head toward the large graveyard
I noticed not to far from here. If we
stay in the shadows, we can slow down the pace a bit."
"You take me to the most
romantic places." Vash cooed
melodramatically as she laid her head against his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the warmth of
his strong embrace.
"We can hide in one of the
mausoleums I saw." Picard explained as he looked down at her. The bodice of her gown was tightly laced up
the front by a pink, satin ribbon tied in a bow at the center of her scooped
neckline. The bow drew his attention to
the tantalizing way her chest rose and fell with each breath. Fighting to ignore the alluring sight, he
swallowed hard and asked, "Vash, tell me how much you know of what's
really going on here?"
Opening her eyes, she sat up to
look quizzically at him. She had no
idea where he was going with this; but she answered anyway, "Besides the
fact that some guy just tried to feed me to his pet lizard, I know this must be
some prank by Q. In reality, you're the
captain of the Enterprise and I'm the
head archaeologist onboard and we're engaged to be married."
"What the last thing you
remember before you ended up here?" Picard inquired gently.
"We were out having dinner,
to celebrate something." Vash
replied. Sounding frustrated, she
reached up to rub the bridge of her nose.
"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. I can't
remember. There seems to be blanks in
my memory. I can recall every detail of
novels I read years ago, but I'm unable to remember entire blocks of time from
my own life."
"It's all right. Don't try to force it." Picard
comforted her as he reached up to tenderly push a stray lock of hair from her
face. "As part of this little
farce, Q has suppressed certain portions of your memory. I'm sure the memories will return as soon as
this is all over."
"Portions of my
memory? For starters . . ." Vash
prompted.
Picard hesitated for a moment,
but decided she had a right to know, "For starters, we're married, not
engaged. We were out celebrating our
first anniversary."
"Married!? How can that be, I mean we've never . .
." Vash trailed off as she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Looking down at the ground, she murmured,
"I've never." Despite her
burning cheeks, she forced herself to meet his gaze, "You've never even
kissed me."
That took Picard by surprise,
"You have no memory of me even kissing you?" Vash shook her head no. Wanting to know just how far Q had taken
this, Picard asked, "Can you remember being kissed by any man?"
"No." Vash answered, again looking down.
"Damn Q's propensity for
being an extremist." Picard swore to himself. Taking a calming breath, he told her, "I'm so sorry, ma
chere. Q decided to make you a virgin
and fabricated all this due to an idle thought I had about what it would have
been like to have been your first."
"Were you disappointed that
you weren't the first?" Vash asked quietly, unable to meet his gaze.
"No. Absolutely not." Picard stated emphatically. "It was simply a fleeting curiosity
about a time before I came into your life.
Nothing more."
"So, in reality, I'm not a
virgin." She murmured.
Vash had sounded so unsure of
herself, something Picard wasn't used to. Gently cupping her chin in his hand,
he raised her face to his. Gazing into
her blue eyes, he smiled reassuringly, "In the here and now of Q's little
game, you most certainly are. So, for
the time being, we will deal only with the here and now."
"Playing along with Q
usually tends to be the path of least resistance, doesn't it?" Vash smiled
back bashfully.
"He usually gives you no
other choice." Picard agreed. "You all right?"
"I'm fine." Vash
replied. For a long moment, she was
held by Jean-Luc's gaze, his handsome, chiseled features framing those intense
grey eyes and the firm set of his mouth.
She felt her breath catch in her throat and her pulse speed up at the
thought of those lips on hers. Her
senses overwhelmed by the passionate charge between them, Vash retreated. Breaking off her gaze, she shyly buried her
head in his shoulder. She snuggled into
the security of his embrace, feeling his heart race as he took a couple of deep
breaths.
"We should probably get
under way. Are you comfortable?"
Picard said softly. After all, this
wasn't the best place to start anything.
She nodded her head as she slipped her arms around his waist. Picking up the reins, he glanced down at the
lovely woman in his arms, "You've had a rough day. You're safe now, so just relax and
rest."
A short time later, the pair
rode through the front gates of the graveyard.
Looking around, Vash chuckled, "This place reminds me of work, I feel
like I should be setting up a site."
"In a cemetery?"
Picard asked as he guided the horse toward the larger mausoleums.
"And exactly what do you
think the Valley of the Kings in Egypt is?" She teased.
"Point taken." He
conceded.
"Very few archaeology sites
are able to find the actual community, most only find the society's sepulcher
sites." Smiling up at him
impishly, Vash couldn't help but bait him with, "Of course, you'd know that
if you had done your studies at a real university."
"My Lady is awful uppity
for someone who was almost brunch for an oversized iguana." He teased back.
"Now, I thought he looked
more like a gecko." Vash laughed.
"As you wish." Picard
chuckled as they came to stop in front of a large mausoleum that was almost
hidden behind overgrown brushwood.
Dismounting from the horse, he took the stallion by the bridle. "Stay up in the saddle. Your gown and slippers are no protection
from these briars. I'll guide the horse
through them and into the building."
"I need to have a little
conversation with Q about appropriate field apparel." She grumbled as he
led the horse into the building.
"I wouldn't hold my breath
expecting him to listen." He replied.
Vash glanced around the inside
of the mausoleum. The room was dimly
lit by torches in sconces on the walls.
There were three large sarcophagi in the room, one on each wall. The forth wall had a Catholic-style altar. Patting the horse's neck, she remarked,
"Your typical Gothic crypt. Very
homey, if you happen to be Bram Stoker or Mary Shelley."
"We won't be staying
long." Picard assured her.
Suddenly, he heard movement and motioned for Vash to stay silent. Drawing his sword, he peered cautiously
around the room. His deep voice
resonated with authority as he demanded, "Show yourself."
An elderly, rather
pudgy-appearing monk stepped out of the shadows with his hands up, "Relax,
my son. I pose no threat to you or the
young lady, Lord Picard. My name is Friar
Dominic."
Picard was still slightly wary,
"You know my name?"
"Of course. The whole village probably does by now. Baracada has been cursing your name at the
top of his lungs all afternoon, from what I'm told. The brothers and I at the monastery owe you an enormous debt of
gratitude for dispatching Baracada's reptilian demon." With a twinkle in his eye, the friar added,
"I'm sure the maidens around here are also very appreciative."
"Jean-Luc," Vash
reached down from the horse to lay her hand on his shoulder, "Put the
sword away."
Picard glanced over his shoulder
at her. Due to current circumstances,
he knew she couldn't have meant that as a double entendre. At any other time, he would have been absolutely
certain she had.
"I don't think killing a
priest is going help our case much in the cosmic scheme of things." She said gently.
"Of course." He nodded as he sheathed the weapon.
"Thank you, my boy."
Dominic sighed with relief and lowered his hands. "Now, you'll be safe once we get you out of the city. Baracada's hold on his throne is tenuous at
best. He will not let any of his forces
leave the city, especially after losing the dragon, and his sorcery abilities
along with it, this afternoon. We'll
hide you in the monastery until dark."
"We have to make it to the
monastery first, Father." Picard reminded the priest.
The old priest smiled. "Faith, my son. The brothers maintain
an elaborate, well- hidden network of underground tunnels and caverns beneath
the city. We've been using them to help
smuggle in food and goods to ease the burden of the people under Baracada's
rule. We also used them to smuggle as
many maidens out of the city as possible to safety at our sister convent in a
neighboring town. Behind the altar in
this vault is one of the entrances."
Friar Dominic went to the altar.
He gently pulled on one of several candlesticks placed on the
alter. The entire altar slid to one
side, revealing the entrance to a large tunnel. Gesturing for them to follow, he continued, "Come now. We must leave for the monastery before
Baracada's guards start searching the cemetery."
With Vash still perched in the
saddle, Picard took the reins of the horse and followed the monk into the
tunnel. Friar Dominic pulled on a lever
and the altar slid back into place closing off the entrance. Well-illuminated by torches, the passage was
about ten feet high and six feet wide.
The old monk lead them through a complex labyrinth of tunnels. Picard estimated that they had traveled
about a mile when they finally emerged into a large chamber. It looked to be a cross between a
way-station and a warehouse. In one
area there were several monks working with a large number of crates. In another area makeshift cots and large oak
tables with benches were set up. Picard
detected a subtle, but very familiar scent.
"I smell wine casks. Is
there a wine cellar near by?"
"You have a good nose. We
are under the monastery and the wine cellar is just beyond that door. It was the perfect camouflage for this
entrance. After all, who would ever question
having a wine cellar in a monastery." Friar Dominic chortled, pointing
toward a large door across the room.
Clapping Picard on the shoulder, The old priest added, "Now, let's get you two rested and
prepared for the next leg of your journey."
Moving to the side of the horse,
Picard reached up to span Vash's waist with his hands. "My Lady?"
Vash braced her hands on
Jean-Luc's broad shoulders as he gently lowered her from the charger to the
ground. She smiled and dropped a slight
curtsey at him, "Thank you, sir."
Both Vash and Picard turned to
look at Friar Dominic as they heard him issue instructions to the other monks.
"Brother Calvin, please take Lord Picard's horse to the stables and have
him fed, watered and groomed."
"Of course, brother."
Calvin replied. Before leading the
animal away, he added with a smile, "Anything to help the
Dragonslayer."
Leaning into Jean-Luc, Vash
teased quietly, "My, my, my, it looks like someone's earned himself a new
moniker."
"Vash." Picard
admonished under his breath as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Brother Jerome,"
Friar Dominic called. "Go ask Mother Agnes and Sister Rebecca to put
together a satchel of essentials needed by a lady on a two day journey."
"Yes, brother." Jerome
answered before departing in search of the nuns.
"Brother Augustine, please
fetch some wine, bread and fruit for our guests." Dominic requested of the
youngest monk. Augustine nodded and
quickly rushed off. Friar Dominic
turned back to Picard and Vash.
"As soon as Brother Augustine returns with your refreshments, he
and I will go check to make sure Baracada's men have already searched the
monastery. Once I know everything is
all clear, I'll bring you both up into the monastery. I have some maps that will help you with your journey. Also, we'll get the two of you properly
married so it will be in the church records."
"You're going to marry
us?" Vash asked, slightly surprised.
"Of course, my dear. Did you think I was going to let this
dashing, young buck carry you off without the benefit of marriage? What kind of priest would I be?"
Dominic answered, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Raising an amused eyebrow,
Picard chuckled, "Father, I'm beginning to think you've done this sort of
thing before."
"Everyone needs a
hobby." The old priest laughed.
Brother Augustine returned with a tray filled with fresh bread, fruit, a
bottle of wine and two glasses. He set
the tray down on the nearest oak table.
Friar Dominic motioned to the younger monk, "Come along,
Augustine. Let's leave these two to
rest and eat."
The two monks headed up to the
monastery, leaving Picard and Vash alone in the large, underground
chamber. As she watched Jean-Luc pour
wine into both glasses, Vash asked, "I thought you said we were already
married?"
"We are, chere."
Picard smiled, handing her a glass of wine. "However, as you pointed out
earlier, it's usually easier just to play along with Q's little games."
Taking a sip of wine, Vash
nodded, "True. Is that why you so readily
trusted the monks? After all, they're
just as much a creation of Q's as Baracada is."
Picard picked up his own wine
glass as he remarked, "Q's intention here is not to see us running for our
lives to evade Baracada's forces."
"And his actual intention
would be?" Vash prompted. As he took a drink, Jean-Luc eyed her
meaningfully from over the top of his glass.
Remembering their conversation in the alley, she fought down a
blush. "Oh."
Even though she tried to hide
behind her glass as she took another drink, Picard caught the rosy flush that
highlighted Vash's lovely features. He
set his own goblet aside and stepped toward her, closing the distance between
them. The low scoop neckline of the
gown, combined with the way the gown's bodice laced up the front with pink
ribbon provided him an alluring view.
His appreciative gaze trailed down over the diaphanous layers of the
pale-pink gown clinging to her feminine silhouette. Placing her glass next to his on the table, Picard took one of
Vash's hands in his. Raising her hand
to his lips, he placed a kiss on the back of her hand and lowered his voice to
a deep, resonating whisper, "I would marry you over and over again."
The soft brush of his lips
against the back of her hand felt like a lightning strike, causing a shiver to
race through Vash's entire body. As the
sensation spread across her breasts, the peaks hardened pushing against the
satin and lace of her gown. Her breath
caught in her throat at the warm timbre of his voice and the intensity of his
steel-grey eyes. With her heart
pounding, she wondered how it was possible she was married to this man when the
thought of his kiss alone was enough to make her weak in the knees. Looking down, she demurely averted her eyes.
'Oh no, petite amie. There will be no escape this time.' Picard
thought to himself as he released her hand.
Tenderly, he cupped her chin and drew her gaze back up to his. His eyes drank in the features of her
beautiful face with her blue eyes, delicate cheek bones and full, rose-petal
lips. Hoarsely, he whispered, "I
love you."
"I love you." Vash echoed breathlessly, her eyes drifting
shut as Jean-Luc lowered his face to hers.
Her lips trembled as his lips brushed over hers in a barely-there
promise of a kiss to come. Again, his
lips caressed hers ever-so-softly.
Finally, his lips claimed hers in a gentle, warm kiss. Vash slipped her arms around Jean-Luc's neck
and her body melted against his. He
moved one hand to the back of her head, entangling it in her hair as he slid
his other arm around her tiny waist, holding her against him. She lost herself in the strength of his arms
and the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave. He gradually deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth harder against
hers as their heated passions built.
With her whole body in a state of highly-charged anticipation, Vash
arched into him feeling the entire length of his hard, muscular form against
every inch of her own, quickly
overheating body. The action did more to inflame the ache building
inside her, rather than ease the sensations.
Faced with the sweet innocence
of her reactions, Picard fought to keep a tight rein on his own desires. The way in which her supple curves moved
against him as she responded to his kiss was almost maddening. He wrapped both arms tightly around her tiny
waist, suppressing the urge to explore those same supple curves. With each passing moment, his muscles tightened
and his hardness grew. At this rate, he
would soon be tempted to take her right there on the table. Under present circumstances, that was
simply not an option. He reluctantly broke the kiss, placing
several tentative kisses on her reddened, passion-swollen lips before pulling
back. Her eyes still closed, Vash's
skin was tinged with a flush of desire.
The full curves of her cleavage rose and fell with her ragged
breathing. After taking a moment to
catch his own breath, he softly beckoned, "Vash."
Vash's eyes fluttered open to
gaze up at Jean-Luc. Her heart was
pounding, she was flushed and her knees felt as if they were about to buckle
under her. Gripping the hard bulge of
his upper arm for balance, she swallowed and gasped, "I must have drunk
the wine a little too fast."
"Of course." Picard
answered, carefully hiding a smile.
After all, they both knew it had nothing to do with the wine. He gently helped her sit down on the bench
before sitting down next to her.
"We both should eat something."
"That's probably a good
idea." Vash nodded. It didn't take
long for the two of them to consume the bread and most of the fruit. Peering down onto the tray, Vash was very
amused to see that there was one particular fruit Jean-Luc had scrupulously
avoided. With Q's little tricks having
done nothing to suppress her naturally impish sense of humor, she had a very
devilish thought. She kept her voice as
innocent as possible, "Jean-Luc."
"Hmmm." He replied,
looking up from his wineglass.
Emboldened by their earlier kiss
and the knowledge that he had no idea this was coming, Vash picked out the
largest and ripest piece of fruit in question.
Holding it up in front of her by the stem, she deadpanned,
"Cherry?"
Jean-Luc Picard nearly choked on
his wine as he stared at her wide-eyed.
She burst out giggling at his astonished expression. Quickly recovering, Picard set his wine
glass down on the table. He grabbed her
and pulled her onto his lap, tickling her ribcage mercilessly. Laughing so hard she could hardly catch her
breath, Vash squirmed helplessly in his embrace. As she continued to twist and turn in his lap trying in vain to
escape his fingers, he chuckled "Eventually, young lady, you will learn to
give me the respect due a ship's captain."
"Never!" Vash panted
defiantly between giggles and, finally managing to work one of her hands to his
side, she zeroed in on his own ticklish spot.
He jumped, but quickly grasped both of her hands in his. They both sat there, at a total impasse. She couldn't escape, but he couldn't let go
of her hands to tickle her without being tickled himself. Raising an amused eyebrow, she said,
"Check."
"Check." He agreed
with a smile. "Truce?"
"Truce." Vash nodded after taking a moment to
consider it. They both let go of each
other's hands cautiously, seeing if the truce would hold.
As Vash sat perched on his lap,
Picard placed a hand on the small of her back.
She was smiling at him, her bright blue eyes sparkling with playful
mischief. He utterly adored her. Feeling blissfully content, he reached up to
tenderly cup her cheek in his palm and said simply, "You're
wonderful."
Staring into his intense grey
eyes, Vash felt that passionate charge pass between them again. She blushed at the praise, but didn't look
away. Sitting on his lap, she was completely
surrounded by the sheer virility of his masculine presence. The hard length of his body beneath hers was
driving her to distraction. Her gaze
was drawn to the firm set of his mouth.
Desperately, she wished for him to kiss her again. Nuzzling her cheek against his large hand,
Vash pleaded in a whisper, "Please . . . Jean-Luc."
Even without the words, Picard
knew what she wanted. As he used the
hand that cupped her cheek to draw her face up to his, her eyes fluttered
closed. His mouth captured hers in
another deep, gentle kiss. Returning his passion, Vash's small hands
slid up the crimson, velvet doublet to encircle his neck. A small sigh escaping her, her body melted
against his own. As his lips moved over
hers, he delighted in the feel of her pressed against him. Hearing approaching footfalls, Picard
reluctantly broke off the kiss.
"Someone's coming." He
whispered as he gently lifted her off his lap and set her back down on the
bench. Picard stood up in front of her and
took on a slightly protective stance with his hand resting on the hilt of his
sword, just in case. He relaxed when he
saw Friar Dominic come through the entrance.
"Come along now,
youngsters. The coast is clear and we
have a lot of things to do." The
old monk called as he gestured for them to follow him up into the monastery.
"So, when was the last time
the flagship captain was referred to as a youngster?" Vash teased under
her breath as she took Jean-Luc's offered arm.
"Not since the last time
the flagship hosted Admiral Leonard McCoy." Picard whispered in retort to
a quietly giggling Vash.
...............................................................................
Friar Dominic led them to the
monastery's small chapel. Soon after
they entered the chapel, Mother Agnes and Sister Rebecca took Vash over to a
far corner to show her the satchel they had prepared for her. Picard was amused to note the two nuns had
not limited themselves to essentials for the trip. As Sister Rebecca handed Vash a small nosegay of pink rosebuds
and white lily's of the valley, Mother Agnes arranged a matching wreath of
flowers in Vash's hair. Picard marveled
at the delicate beauty. Even though the
gown and headpiece were not nearly as ornate as her real wedding trousseau had
been, she was just as lovely a bride as she had been a year ago.
"Son, you have the rest of
your life to stare at her." Dominic chuckled as he clapped Picard on the
shoulder. Holding up a rolled
parchment, he added, "If you can possibly tear your eyes away from her for
a moment, I have a map I think you really ought to take a look at."
Clearing his throat, Picard
squared his shoulders and straightened his tunic. He inwardly chastised himself for getting caught ogling a woman
like a lovesick cadet, even if the woman in question was his own wife. He turned his attention to the old priest
and nodded, "Of course."
Moving to a small table in a
corner, Friar Dominic unrolled the parchment for Picard to look at. The monk pointed to different locations on
the map, "We'll lead you through one of the tunnels that has an opening
just outside the city walls about here.
As I said earlier, Baracada's forces won't leave the city, so you'll be
safe once you're outside the city walls.
This nearby road is fairly secluded and goes through pretty dense
forest, however it will cut the journey to your kingdom down to around two
days. About three hours ride up the
road is an old hunting shack owned by the monastery. The two of you can find
shelter there for the night. Another
day's ride from there is a small village.
My brother runs the village inn, you can spend the second night
there. Your kingdom is another three
quarters of a day's ride up the road from there."
Friar Dominic rolled the map back
up and handed it to Picard. As he
accepted the parchment, Picard smiled, "The forest is dense but the
terrain is pretty level so it shouldn't be too difficult a ride. Thank you, Father."
"You're welcome,
son." Dominic replied. An impish glint lit his eyes, "However,
may the good Lord forgive me, I must admit I really do love to stick it to old
Baracada every once in a awhile."
Brother Calvin approached
them. He handed Dominic a small gold
ring, "One gold wedding ring, guaranteed to fit the bride."
"That was fairly
quick. I'm impressed." Friar
Dominic replied.
"This is the fifth one of
these you've done this month, Dominic.
I just decided to make things easier on myself and keep a supply on
hand." Calvin chuckled.
Picard and Vash stood, right
hands joined, in front of Friar Dominic at the altar of the small chapel. As they stood there, Picard experienced a
wave of deja vu. It was almost as if it
was a year ago and they were standing together at the altar of the church in
his home town of Labarre.
Picard stared down into the
bright blue eyes of his lovely bride.
As he held her small hand in his grasp, he tenderly ran his thumb over
her soft, smooth skin. The powerful timbre
of his voice reverberated with his heartfelt vow as he repeated after the
priest, "I, Jean-Luc Picard, take thee, Vash, for my lawful wife, to have
and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for
poorer, in sickness and in health until death do us part."
Blinking back the tears brimming
in her eyes, Vash gazed up at Jean-Luc.
With his sleek, muscular build and handsome, chiseled features framing
those intense grey eyes, he made quite a dashing nobleman. Vash's heart pounded as if it would burst
through her chest. Her voice trembled
slightly as she repeated after the priest, "I, Vash, take thee, Jean-Luc
Picard, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for
better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health until
death do us part."
Friar Dominic's voice seemed to
fill the small chapel, "Ego conjungo vos in matrimonium, in nomine Patris,
et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Amen."
After the priest blessed the
ring, he handed it to Picard. As he
reverently slipped the ring on the third finger of Vash's left hand, Picard
pledged, "With this ring, I thee wed and I plight unto thee my
troth."
Making the sign of the cross,
Friar Dominic chanted, " In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus
Sancti. Amen." With a smile he finished, "What God
hath joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride."
With those words, Vash turned to
face her new husband. His eyes held the
heated promise of a passionate wedding night.
The images his gaze evoked sent a soft flush stealing over her face.
Smiling down at his literally
blushing bride, he mused that she hadn't blushed that adorably at their first
wedding. Wishing he had a picture of
this moment, he leaned down to brush a reverent kiss across her lips.
....................................................................
Friar Dominic came to a halt
near the entrance of the tunnel opening.
Raising a cautionary hand, he advised in a low voice, "Stay here, I
will check to make sure it is safe."
Nodding, Picard turned to quiet
the horse. Vash inched her way toward
the tunnel entrance, trying to peer out.
Picard unceremoniously hauled her back against him and whispered softly,
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"That's why cats have nine
lives." she replied mischievously.
"Well, you don't," he
replied as Friar Dominic reappeared at the entrance.
"All is well," the
Friar told them, motioning them out of the tunnel.
As they emerged into the night,
Picard lifted Vash gently onto the horse's back. Turning to the Friar, he thanked him for all the assistance.
"Godspeed," the Friar
replied as Picard mounted up behind his wife and started slowly down the faint
trail heading to the woods.
Vash leaned back into Picard's
chest and inquired softly, "Are you planning to engage the warp drive any
time in the near future, Captain?"
"Not until we have a clear
course laid in, Ensign Picard."
Soon they were riding hard for
the nearby forest. Picard slowed
slightly as they entered the cover of the forest. The ride was uneventful until the wind started to pick up. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, Vash
raised her voice slightly to be heard over the wind, "It's starting to get
colder. Are we going to make it to the
cabin before the storm hits?"
"According to the map, we
should almost be there." Picard replied, bringing the horse to a
halt. He pulled Vash snugly against
him, wrapping his cloak securely around both of them. Gripping the reins firmly, he urged the horse to his fastest pace
in an effort to outrun the storm. Just
as they sighted the hunting shack, the sky opened, releasing a torrential
downpour. In a matter of seconds, they
were both soaked to the skin.
Reining the horse in at the
front of the shack, he swung Vash down under the small roof overhanging the
door. "See if you can't get a fire
going while I stable this animal," he called as he rode toward the barn
just beyond the cabin.
Vash pushed the door closed
behind her, muttering to no one in particular, "See if you can get a fire
started. I'm only a field
archaeologist, a cold, wet and tired one.
What does he think I do in the field?
Unlike Starfleet, I can't just whip out a phaser and light up a fire, or
heat a pile of rocks or whatever it is they do to keep from freezing when
they're not in their precious little starships." Carefully arranging the kindling in the fireplace, she continued
to rant as she rummaged on the mantle for the tinder and flint. "I just bet that someone's
flagship-size ego would be a little punctured if he waltzed in here and I had a
beautiful roaring fire blazing and was sitting here basking in the warmth. Serve him right. See if you can get a fire
going, my ass! I'm not the helpless
heroine type, thank you very much. Q!
If I ever get my hands on you, you're going to be really sorry. Q!
Do you hear me? Next time I get
to be an Amazon warrior and rescue him from cannibals. How long does it take to stable a horse,
anyway?" Warming her hands at the
now blazing fire, she had not noticed Jean-Luc enter the shack.
Hearing a soft chuckle behind
her, she turned to see Jean-Luc in the doorway, removing his cloak. "I am fully aware of your survival
skills, but tell me one thing. Do all
field archaeologists talk to no one while they build their fires?"
"Only when their
intelligence has been insulted by someone who should know better. See if you can get a fire started,
indeed."
"You were right. I was
wrong. I'm sorry." Picard looked
around the cabin, taking in their surroundings for the first time as he set the
saddlebags and her satchel in one corner.
He grimaced, "Not exactly the Ritz, is it?"
"You've definitely got a
flair for the obvious."
The small cabin had nothing more
than a crude table with an equally crude bench on each side. Two pans and a battered pair of mugs sat
forlornly in the center. On the opposite wall, the bed was little more than a
narrow shelf covered with several rough woolen blankets. Vash was kneeling on the stone hearth of the
large fireplace that offered the only source of heat and light, her still
dripping cloak beginning to steam from the fire.
In two steps, he was beside her,
gently raising her to stand and removing her cloak. "You'll get warm much quicker without this on." His eyes hardened with desire as his heated
gaze slid slowly down her wet dress clinging to every contour of her lithe
body. Her skin was covered with
gooseflesh and her taut nipples strained against the thin, wet material of her
gown. His throat ached with longing as
he watched a droplet of water fall from her hair, running down her slender
throat into the hollow of her cleavage to finally disappear beneath her
gown. He wanted to warm the cold trail
of the droplet with his mouth.
Swallowing hard, he sternly banished that particular train of thought
and, out of concern for her, pushed his own needs aside. After all, these were not exactly ideal
conditions. The cabin was more
accurately described as a one room shack, a very uncomfortable one at
that. He and Vash were both cold, wet,
and tired. Given this unique
opportunity, he was determined to do this right. Needing to put some physical space between them, he walked over
to hang up her cloak on a row of coat hooks on the wall next to the door. Stripping off his own cloak, he hung it up
next to hers.
Vash glanced over at the bed,
"The bed looks too narrow for one person, let alone two. I was thinking we might be better off
setting up a makeshift bed down on the floor in front of the fire."
"Agreed. It would probably be much warmer also. The wind is pretty strong and I'm sure this
place isn't well insulated." Picard said as he checked the saddlebags for
supplies.
Retrieving her satchel and the
wool blankets, Vash set about making up a bed for them in front of the
fireplace. Reaching into the satchel,
she pulled out a hairbrush. Standing
up, she brushed out her wet hair as she appraised the makeshift bed, "Not
exactly a bed of roses, but I think it will serve our purpose."
"It's fine." Picard
assured her as he took off his doublet and hung it up. Turning back to face her, he fought to
ignore the way the soaked material of her dress molded itself like a second
skin to her feminine curves. There only
so much a man could stand and she was just too tempting. "Ma chere, you might be more
comfortable in some dry clothes."
"The nuns packed a dressing
gown for me, but I figured I wouldn't be using it." She flushed, but squared her shoulders and
continued, "After all, you said the whole point of Q's little game is for
you . . . for you to make love to me as a virgin. Once we get that over with . . ."
"I don't give a damn what
Q's intention is! I have never . . .
nor will I ever . . . make love to you
just to get it over with." Picard exploded, crossing the room to stand in
front of her. Reining in his own
frustration, he gentled his tone, "Vash, these are less than ideal
circumstances. You are tired,
uncomfortable, more than a little tense and these accommodations are not what I
had in mind."
"We have a nice fire and a
roof over our heads. What more do you
want?" Vash asked, taking in how
the corded muscles of his upper arms flexed under the silk material of his wet
shirt as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"For starters, a decent bed." Picard stated flatly. "I'm not about to make love to you on
this dirt floor."
"Why not? You said the first place we ever made love
was a cave floor on Risa. What's the
difference?" She demanded.
"First, I hadn't intended
on making love to you that night on Risa.
If I had, be assured we would have spent that night in my room at the
resort. Secondly, you weren't a virgin
when we made love on Risa." He
answered a little more sharply than he had meant to. Their lovemaking on Risa was definitely not where he wanted his
imagination to go just now.
"I'm not really a
virgin. This is just one of Q's little
jokes." She snapped.
"Nonetheless, Q's meddling
has left you as untried as any virgin.
And I simply refuse to take the situation lightly or to proceed with any
undo haste. I intend to do this
properly, which means having the patience to wait until I'm sure you're
comfortable, relaxed and prepared for it." Picard told her. His tone
became somewhat self-depreciating, "Not that I've ever made a hobby out of
this sort of thing."
"Untried, patience,
preparing for it." Vash muttered
to herself and rolled her eyes.
"Sounds like you're planning to break a horse."
"The analogy has been made
before." Picard began.
"Don't go there!" Vash
warned, cutting him off abruptly.
Picard took a deep breath,
"I really think it would behoove us both to wait until we get to the inn
tomorrow."
"Behooves who? It's been my experience that around here
being a virgin only gets you fed to dragons.
Which seems like a pretty good reason to lose one's virginity, if you
ask me." Vash shot back. As far as
she was concerned, this little game had gone on long enough.
Picard's breath caught in his
throat at the fire that flashed in Vash's blue eyes as she argued with
him. She was so beautiful and her
challenges always affected him like a powerful aphrodisiac. His body ached to start her lessons in
earnest. 'No! Not here.' he told himself firmly. His voice was rough with desire as he reminded her, "It's
unnecessary, the dragon is gone. You're
safe, Vash. You're my wife and I would
willingly give my life to protect you from any danger."
For a brief moment, Picard
thought that he had won as Vash glanced downward with a sigh and nodded. Looking up at him through her lashes, she
wet her lips. She reached up to splay a
small hand across his chest. He
realized she had not capitulated, only switched tactics. Vash's voice was as soft as her caress,
"Take what is rightfully yours, Jean-Luc.
Make love to me."
'Merde, she is real close to
breaking my resolve.' Picard thought as he briefly closed his eyes. He covered her hand with his own, pressing
it against his chest. Opening his eyes, he brought her hand up to brush a kiss
across the back of it. Letting go of
her hand, it took all of his self-control to shake his head slightly and
murmur, "No."
"You don't want me."
Vash, hurt by the rejection, began to turn away from him. She let out a startled gasp when Jean-Luc
reached out and quickly caught her. His
powerful arms encircled her waist, his large hands finding the roundness of her
derriere. Cupping the supple flesh in
his hands, he yanked her roughly against him.
As she stared up into his face, she saw an expression of fierce, carnal
heat that started her heart pounding in her chest.
"Make no mistake, Vash . .
. I want you." Picard's voice was
a deep, resonating growl. His mouth
descended on hers in a savage kiss. His
tongue plunged past her parted lips, decisively staking claim to everything in
its path. As his mouth took command of
hers, he forced her supple curves even tighter against him in a futile attempt
to ease his desperate need for her.
Dropping the hair brush, she wound her arms around to splay her hands
against the back of his head to pull him closer. He deepened the kiss as her soft moan of surrender drove his
urgency up another notch. His tongue
plundered the depths of her mouth searching for her tongue to coax it out of
hiding.
Vash's head swam with each new
sensation from the passionate onslaught, the heat of his hands through the wet
material of her skirt, her entire body crushed against the hard length of his,
and his mouth and tongue possessing her.
His tongue, dear God, the things his tongue was doing to her. Shyly at first, but then steadily getting
bolder, her tongue began to answer the demands of his. Her entire body felt as if it were made of
liquid flames and her small hands moved down to clutch his shoulders tightly. Just when she thought she could stand no more,
he broke the kiss.
Pulling back slightly, Picard
looked down at her. Gasping for breath,
Vash's amazement showed in her eyes.
Her lips were passion-swollen and a heated flush had swept up her ivory
skin from underneath the neckline of her gown.
He muttered, more to himself than her, "This is playing with
fire."
Vash was dazed, Jean-Luc's
presence was playing havoc with her senses.
His strong hands still held her backend tightly, pulling her hips
against his. Every breath she took forced the stiff peaks of her breasts up
against the muscular wall of his chest.
Held captive by his gaze, her voice quavered slightly,
"Jean-Luc."
"Never doubt how much I
love you and desire you." Picard
rasped, his own breathing as ragged as hers.
Pulling himself out of the blue of her eyes, he forced himself to let go
of her and stepped back. After taking
several deep breaths, he continued, "Why don't you go ahead, put on some
dry clothes and get settled in for the night."
Turning , he headed over to the
door. As she watched him start to put
his cloak on, she asked, "Where are you going?"
"I'll be just outside the
door." He assured her. Right now, he required a distraction, a very
uncomfortable one. "I saw a pile
of logs on the porch. I'm going to
split some more firewood for tonight."
"But, it's cold out there
and pouring rain." Vash emphasized
as she straightened her dress.
"An age-old solution for an
age-old problem." Picard quipped
with a wry smile before walking out the door.
As the door shut behind him,
Vash sighed with exasperation and pulled the dressing gown out of her
satchel. Unlacing the satin ribbon that
held her bodice closed, she gazed down at the fire.
Outside, in the cold, driving
rain, Picard reached down to pick up an ax that was leaning against the front
of the cabin. As he straightened up, he
found himself eye level with the small window on the cabin's front wall. Inside, he could see Vash untying the ribbon
as she stood in front of the fire.
'Jean-Luc Picard, you're a masochist.'
He thought to himself. 'No
amount of sports statistics or cold water will help you if you're going to
stand here gawking at her.' Just as he
was about to turn away, Vash rolled her shoulders allowing the dress to fall to
the floor. He just stood there,
transfixed. She was radiant with the
warm glow of the fire washing over her ivory, satin skin and the feminine
curves of her nude body. He breathed,
"Heaven help me."
"She is built like a brick
house, isn't she? Why haven't you
popped the cork on that sweet little bottle of cherry wine." Q's commented lewdly from behind him.
Picard spun around brining the
ax handle up, cracking Q underneath the chin.
The impact sent Q flying backward off the porch where he landed with a
satisfying splash in a large mud hole.
The entity cried, "Hey Picard!
You hit me, you've never hit me.
If I were a human you could have cracked my jaw; maybe even killed
me."
Glaring down at the entity,
Picard's voice was iced steel as he warned, "Watch your mouth."
"Fair enough." Q replied without any real rancor as he got
up, the mud miraculously disappearing.
"It still doesn't explain why you're standing out here in the
rain."
"Splitting some logs for
firewood." Picard explained as he
set a log up on its end. After testing
the blade, he swung the ax, splitting the log with one powerful stroke.
"I go to all the trouble of
setting up this fantasy for you and all you can do is play with
wood." Q sighed with
exasperation. "So, when are you
going to get on with it?"
"My relationship with my
wife is no one's business but our own."
Picard stated flatly as he set up another log. "And we will 'get on with it' at a time of our own
choosing."
As he watched Picard split
another log, Q retorted, "It's your fantasy. Have it your way, but I can't wait around. Other Captains to see you know."
Q disappeared in a flash of
light. Picard looked up from his work
just long enough to mutter, "Then may God save the Fleet."
Inside the small cabin, Vash let
out a yawn and snuggled down in the blankets in front of the fire. As she watched the flames dance, she could
hear the steady rhythm of Jean-Luc chopping wood outside. Reassured by his nearby presence, she let
the sound lull her to sleep. Hours
later, Vash drowsily opened her eyes to see Jean-Luc sitting stretched out next
to her, studying the map by firelight.
She noticed several things, he had placed himself between her and the
door, the door was bolted shut, and his sword was laying just on the other side
of him. Sleepily, Vash murmured,
"Jean-Luc."
"Chere," Picard whispered, smiling down at her. Her white cotton dressing gown was a high
necked and ruffled everywhere. After
earlier this evening, he was extremely grateful for its very chaste appearance.
With a sigh, she said, "I'm
sorry. You were right."
He arched an amused eyebrow and
teased, "Which means?"
Raising herself up on one elbow,
she retorted, "Maybe I wasn't as right as I usually am."
"Get some rest,
Vash." Picard chuckled. Patting her hip, he added, "Trust me,
tonight is only a temporary reprieve."
"Jean-Luc."
One look at her expression told
Picard what he needed to know. He
rolled up the map and set it aside.
Laying down next to her, he gently pulled her into his arms. She snuggled up against him, settling
herself against his chest. He was about
to whisper goodnight only to discover she had already fallen back asleep.
.............................................................................................
The next morning, Picard
finished saddling the horse and walked back into the cabin. Standing in the doorway and sounding very
pleased, he remarked, "It's a perfect day for a ride, sunny and warm with
a light breeze."
Dressed again in her light pink
gown, Vash glanced up from where she was folding the last of the blankets. "Good.
I'm almost finished here. I
wanted to leave the place the way we found it."
"First of all, this place
isn't real." Picard chuckled. Looking around the cabin, he added,
"And second of all, you now have it neater than it was when we got
here. Let's get underway."
Vash quipped, "Are you
going to be one of those husbands that, at the beginning of a family holiday,
stands at the front door with all the luggage shouting: Let's go, let's go,
let's go!"
"Could be worse. Could be: Move it, move it, move it."
He retorted good-naturedly as she made her way over to the doorway.
"Not unless you want to
lose it, lose it, lose it." Vash challenged with an arched eyebrow.
"You win." Picard
conceded as he followed her out the door.
Gently, he lifted her up onto the horse's back and swung himself up in
the saddle behind her. Picking up the
reins, he urged the stallion down the path.
A little past midday, the pair
rode into an almost picturesque clearing.
With lush green grass and fragrant wild flowers, Vash thought it seemed
like something out of Alice in Wonderland.
Looking down at the map, She leaned back against Jean-Luc.
Glancing down, Picard asked,
"So how much further do we have to go?"
"About fourteen
kilometers." She replied rolling
the map back up and putting it away.
Reining the horse to a stop, he
looked around the meadow, "I think we should stop here to eat and
rest."
"I was hoping you'd say
that." She sighed, watching him as he expertly dismounted from the saddle.
"Actually, we've made
better time than I expected." He
said as he reached up to span her waist with his hands.
"I'll take that as a
compliment." Vash smiled as she slid into his grasp.
"As it was
intended." He replied lowering her
to her feet on the ground.
She paused and then asked,
"Jean-Luc, have we had this conversation before?"
After thinking for a moment,
Picard chuckled, "Indeed we have.
A long time ago."
"Okay, just
checking." Vash pointed toward
three, large oak trees near the center of the field, "How about eating in
the shade of one of those oaks."
"Sounds fine. Take the food and a blanket and pick the
spot. I'm going water the horse just
over there at that stream and then I'll join you." He replied.
As Jean-Luc tended to the horse,
Vash found just the right spot for their picnic. It was not right up against the trunk of the largest tree, but
still well within the shade of its branches.
Carefully, she laid out the blanket and the food for their lunch. She sat down on the blanket, her legs curled
up beneath her. As she waited for
Jean-Luc, she picked a daisy that happened to be nearby. Staring down at the flower, she began to
pluck its petals, one by one, chanting, "He loves me . . .he loves me not
. . . he loves me . . . ."
Unnoticed, Picard stood behind
her watching, totally amused by the scene.
Vash was one of the foremost experts in Interstellar Archaeology and
there she sat engaged in the ancient schoolgirl custom of ritualisticly and
methodically destroying a flower.
Quietly, he moved to kneel next to her.
"He loves me not."
Vash pouted as she tugged the last petal from the daisy.
"He loves you." Picard
assured her, pulling the now bare stem from her grasp and tossing it
aside. As she turned toward him
surprised, he leaned down to quickly capture her lips with his in a soft
kiss. Breaking the kiss, he quipped,
"However, I'm sure that daisy feels quite differently."
"Oh, you're so rotten. Sneaking up on me that way." She
complained as she playfully swatted at his shoulder.
"Sorry." He laughed
with absolutely no remorse as he sat down next to her on the blanket.
After they had finished their
meal, Vash packed up the food while, next to her, Jean-Luc lay on his back,
dozing. In the heat of the day, he had
opted to take off the heavy doublet, leaving on the silk shirt. She glanced over at the Arabian charger, who
was grazing on a patch of tall grasses not to far away. Inspiration struck. Looking around her, she spotted just the
right thing and picked a long foxtail that was nearby. The good captain was just too tempting a
target. With a sly smile, she used the
bushy tip to flick once at the bottom of his earlobe. Jean-Luc shifted a little.
Still, he looked far too comfortable and she just couldn't have
that. Vash briefly tickled his chin
with her new weapon. He shook his head
slightly. She tapped the tip of his
nose with the foxtail. Still seeming to
doze, he absently raised a hand to swat at it.
Ultimately, she could not resist temptation and brushed the soft tip
down along his bare scalp.
'That's the final straw, pun
intended.' Picard thought to himself.
With the agility of a jungle cat, he sprang. Throwing himself toward her, he reached out to capture his lovely
tormentor and pin her to the blanket.
However, she just barely managed to evade him. Laying flat on his stomach, he could only watch as she rolled to
her knees and then rose to her feet in a graceful series of fluid
movements. Which was no small
accomplishment in a full length gown.
Sticking her tongue out at him, she bolted for the nearest tree. As he rose to his feet, he chuckled, "Impudent wench!"
Giving chase, Picard pursued
Vash in and around the three oak trees.
After circling the second largest tree for the fifth time, he finally
apprehended his quarry. Vash let out a
squeal as he swept her into his arms, trapping her between the tree and
himself. They were both laughing as they
tried to catch their breath. As he
gazed down at her, Picard realized that the bow at the top of Vash's bodice had
come undone during the chase. With
every breath she took, the lush curves of her breasts pushed at the satin
ribbons, loosening the lacings. The
sight caused his playfulness to give way to feelings that were much more
primitive and insistent. Spanning her
small waist with his hands, he calmed her giggles by claiming her mouth with
his in a gentle kiss.
As he kissed her, Vash reached
up to splay her hands across the hard expanse of his chest. Her hands slowly traveled up the corded
muscles of his chest and shoulders, exploring their masculine strength through
the thin material of his silk shirt.
Once again, shivers of excitement raced through Vash's entire body. As the sensations spread across her breasts,
the peaks hardened pushing against her gown.
Pressing her mouth harder against his, she slid her arms up to encircle
his neck. When he broke the kiss, her
arms held his face within a hairbreadth of her own. Breathless and flushed with arousal, she pleaded, "Oh please
. . . Jean-Luc . . . kiss me."
"I believe I just
did." Picard teased in a rich, bedroom baritone, staring into her vivid
blue eyes.
Sounding almost bashful, she murmured,
"Like last night."
Her sweet presence was playing
havoc with Picard's ability to concentrate and it took him a moment to realize
what she meant. Capturing her mouth in
a deep, passionate kiss, he slipped his tongue past her lips to gently stroke and
caress the warm, moist cavern. Slowly,
his hands slid up her body to cup the full curves of her breasts through the
thin material of her gown. He heard her
moan softly as his thumbs drew deliberate circles around the hardened peaks.
The heat of Jean-Luc's strong
hands caused the taut nipples of Vash's breasts to tingle. As her lips and tongue answered his, she
felt as if every bone in her body had melted.
She wanted more and deepened the kiss, tentatively nudging her tongue
past his in her own erotic search of his mouth.
Picard felt the muscles of his
body tighten and his hardness grow with each passing moment. Enjoying her naively passionate response, he
acquiesced, giving Vash complete control over the kiss. His hands found the top edges of her gown
and pulled the sides apart; the untied ribbon slipping easily through the
eyelets. He felt her body tremble as
his hands moved to cradle her bare breasts, the hardened peaks pressing against
his palms.
Breaking the kiss, Vash
whimpered and her head rolled back against the tree. She arched into the
heaviness as Jean-Luc's thumbs caressed her aching nipples. Her arms fell heavily to her side. Needing to hold him closer, her arms
encircled his waist, keeping him near.
"You're so beautiful."
He breathed as his gaze swept over her breasts with their lush roundness and
ivory skin tipped in deep rose. Taking
advantage of the exposed curve of her throat, he laid a fiery trail of kisses
across one of her bare shoulders.
Giving into an erotic urge, he traced the swell of her breasts with his
tongue just before placing an open mouth kiss at the center of her
cleavage. He felt her body twist in his
grasp as he took one rigid peak into his mouth.
Vash gasped as this new
sensation threatened to overwhelm her.
Jean-Luc leisurely swirled his tongue over one stiff crest and then the
other. As he claimed her breasts with
his lips and tongue, streaks of fire raced through her entire body. Her arms slipped from his waist, her hand
brushing past his hips to discover the hard evidence of his need.
"Yes . . .Vash . . .God . .
. yes." Picard rasped his
encouragement as he felt her small hand's first hesitant caress. His mouth left her breasts to journey back
up to her neck. Nuzzling the curve of her
neck, he closed his eyes and breathed in her sweet scent as his hard arousal
throbbed under her inquisitive ministrations.
Completely fascinated by her
newest discovery, Vash continued to explore his inner thigh. His rock hard body
strained impressively against his buckskin trousers, pressing against her small
hand. Her fingers would stray slightly,
only to hear him gasp as her hand returned to the center of his desire. With her hand gently stroking the hard
length, she murmured to herself, "It's so large."
"Ma chere, you've just
found the perfect thing to say to a man." Picard chuckled into the soft
skin of her neck. Vash had never before
mentioned that she thought he was well-endowed. Of course, he had never asked.
As he pulled back slightly to look at her, her expression instantly told
him she had not meant to say that out loud.
Before she could say anything else, his lips covered hers in a deep,
passionate kiss.
Feeling reassured, Vash broke
the kiss. Her hand still resting on his
inner thigh, she guilelessly whispered, "I did this?"
"Uh-huh." He muttered
before stealing a quick kiss.
"How?"
"Seemingly at
will." Picard remarked with a
small smile. It was obvious from her
increasing boldness that his bride was starting to understand the power she
wielded over him.
"Kissing you?" Vash
pressed him for details.
"That." Picard
nodded. 'Those,' he thought as he
glanced down at the full curves of her breasts that he still had gently cupped
in his hands. He realized how close he
had come to making love to her right there in the woods. Wanting to regain control, he stepped back
slightly and moved his hands span her waist.
His voice was still husky as he explained, "Ma petite, depending on
the situation, it could be any number of things; a passionate kiss, a certain
expression on your face, the way you walk or toss your hair, even the scent of
your favorite perfume."
"That's not entirely
helpful." Vash pouted.
"My apologies. Now, will you please stop tempting your poor
husband, at least long enough for him to get you into a suitable bed?" He
teased.
"Killjoy." She quipped
as she began relacing her bodice.
"So noted." Picard
deadpanned before gently adding, "We really should be on our way, so if
you will fold up the blanket and get the food, I will get the horse."
"All right." Vash gave
him her most devastating smile then made her way over to the blanket.
Letting out a deep breath,
Picard turned to slump back against the nearest tree. He ran a hand over his face, wiping away a thin film of
perspiration. Even at her most
innocent, Vash was going to be the very death of him. He decided this whole situation should be filed under 'be careful
what you wish for.'
.............................................................................
Picard and Vash arrived at the
small inn early in the evening. The inn
keeper and his wife were an older, amiable couple. They seemed to take great delight in catering to the new
arrivals, serving them a delicious homecooked meal.
As Picard and Vash finished
their meal, the inn keeper's wife approached.
With a motherly smile, she took Vash in hand, "Come along my dear,
I'll take you up to your room. I had my
girls prepare a nice hot bath for you."
With a dismissive gesture, she ordered Picard, "You, go with my
husband. He will show you where you can
clean up. You're not going anywhere
near this sweet girl unshaven and smelling like a horse."
"Yes, ma'am." Picard
quipped as he watched the older woman whisk Vash off.
After lounging in a rose scented
bath, Vash stood in front of the bedroom's large stone fireplace brushing her
hair dry as she waited for Jean-Luc.
The most luxurious one in the small inn, the room had a large, mahogany
four-poster bed with soft, white cotton bedding trimmed in dainty, eyelet lace
along with a down-filled mattress and pillows.
A small table and captain's chair sat under the room's small window. On the table sat two goblets, a bottle of wine
and a pitcher of water. The heavy oak
door opened and standing in the doorway was a clean-shaven Jean-Luc, still
dressed in his black buckskin trousers and crimson velvet doublet over the
white silk shirt.
Placing her brush on the
fireplace mantel, Vash smiled at him, "I take it this means you've passed
inspection?"
"It's a good thing my
father was such a traditionalist and insisted that both Robert and I learn to
shave with a straight razor." Picard said as he shut and locked the door
behind him. He turned to look at Vash,
finding himself captivated by her. Her
silky, brunette hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders, perfectly framing her
blue eyes and delicate features. The
white cotton dressing gown she was wearing was designed to be held close by six
satin bows that ran down the front from the throat to the waistline. Tonight, however, Vash had not tied the
first three bows, leaving the ruffled gown to fall open until the fourth bow
that lay just at the cleft between her breasts. The fourth bow acted as an irresistible lure, beckoning to him to
uncover the familiar sweetness hidden beneath.
"Jean-Luc?"
Her voice startling him out of
his own thoughts, Picard told her candidly, "You're a very beautiful
woman, Vash Picard."
"Thank you." She
replied quietly, blushing slightly at the praise. Changing the subject, she glanced around the room as she asked,
"Now, are these accommodations more to your liking?"
"They're fine." He
chuckled at the hint of exasperation in her voice. Taking off his belt and scabbard, he hooked them so his sword
hung from one of posts at the head of the bed.
"Claiming your side of the
bed?" Vash bantered.
"I always sleep on the side
of the bed closest to the door." He replied as he removed his doublet,
laying it across a small stool next to the bed.
"And the side arm?"
"Usually a small hand
phaser locked away in my bed table."
Tugging the silk shirt loose from his waistband, he teased, "All
the better to protect you with, my dear."
"I see . . ." Vash broke
off, watching as Jean-Luc casually unbuttoned the silk shirt. She found herself thinking back to that
afternoon and the feel of those large, capable hands caressing her soft skin. He seemed unaware of her attention as he
peeled off the shirt and laid it on the stool with his doublet. Her eyes drifted over his broad shoulders,
past the well-defined muscles of his chest, the bulging biceps of his upper
arms and down along the tapering lines of his torso to the taut strength of his
stomach. She yearned to let her hands
roam over those firm, muscular planes.
Every movement he made revealed the tightly leashed strength contained
in his sculpted muscles. Mesmerized by
the sight of his lean, hard body stripped to the waist, she breathed, "Oh
my."
Hearing her, Picard looked over
to catch her wide-eye gaze travel over him.
As her eyes locked with his, she bit her lower lip. His body responded ardently to the naked
emotions emanating from her blue eyes.
Vash blushed and turned away, looking down into the roaring fire. Walking over to stand just behind her, he
lowered his head to gently kiss her cheek.
Detecting the slight fragrance of roses, he asked softly, "Roses?"
"Used to scent my
bathwater." Vash murmured, her
insides turning upside down at the sound of his bedroom baritone.
"Vash, look at
me." He gently beckoned as he took
a small step back. She turned toward
him, but with her eyes still downcast.
Cupping her cheek with his palm, he slipped his thumb under her chin to
bring her gaze up to his, "Petite
amie, you're going to have to trust me."
"I do." Vash whispered resolutely. With her heart pounding in her chest, her
voice faltered, "I want to make love to you but I don't know or can't
remember how . . . "
"Hush." He placed his
finger against her lush lips to silence her.
Tenderly stroking her cheek, he told her, "Tonight, allow me to
make love to you. Relax and let
yourself respond to my lead, as if we were dancing."
As Jean-Luc lowered his face to
hers, Vash's eyes fluttered shut. He
worshipped 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 grasped her tiny waist with
his large hands and moved his lips over hers for a sweet, romantic kiss. As his warm, moist mouth settled over her
lush, full lips, her knees gave way to the erotic onslaught of his nearness,
her hands coming up to clutch his broad shoulders. Jean-Luc pulled back, breaking off with several brief
kisses. Vash's attention was riveted on
the man in front of her. She thrilled
at the breadth of his shoulders compared
to her tiny palms. She let her
hands glide down the masculine slope of his shoulders to linger on the bulging
biceps of his upper arms. The play of
the strong muscles beneath her fingertips stirred her senses. Her hands journeyed back up to his
shoulders, only to slide down the muscular wall of his chest stroking the
rippling pectorals through the coarse chest hair.
Picard fought to keep his
burgeoning passions in check, wanting to allow Vash to explore at her own
pace. As her thumbs rubbed innocently
over his hardened nipples, a small groan escaped his lips. His shoulders jerked as he swiftly
controlled the shudder of need that ripped through him at her touch and
reminded himself that his wife had always been a quick study. He wrapped his arms around her small waist,
pulling her soft, supple form to him and capturing her mouth with his in a deep
kiss. His tongue began a thorough
search of the warm, moist cavern.
As her lips and tongue responded
to his, she was very aware of her breasts pressed up against the expanse of his
chest. The butterflies in her stomach
turned to shivers of desire, the sensation spreading throughout her body
causing the rosy crests of her breasts to harden. As her arms came up to encircle his neck, she lost herself in the
strength of his arms and his clean, masculine scent. When his mouth finally released hers, she was gasping for air.
Compelled by the alluring way the
thin cotton moved over the lush curves of Vash's breasts as she struggled to
catch her breath, Picard reached up to slowly begin untying each satin bow of
the dressing gown in its turn. Huskily,
he informed her, "You won't be needing this."
"Jean-Luc," Vash
stammered apprehensively as her arms fell to her sides.
"Shhh, angel," Picard
quieted her. Reaching the last bow, he
leaned in to claim her lips with his, calming her fears with his quiet
strength. He heard her soft sigh as
she abandoned herself to his kiss. His
mouth slid from hers, moving to explore the soft skin of her neck. He spoke in a deep, resonating whisper,
"I intend to make long, lingering, passionate love to you, until you're
oblivious to everything but the pleasure our bodies bring to one
another." He brought his hands up
to push the cotton gown off her shoulders.
"My beautiful bride, so breathtakingly lovely, I've been longing to
cherish every inch of your exquisite body." As he bared the feminine slope of her shoulder, he brushed his
lips against the creamy, ivory skin and murmured, "You're so soft, like
warm satin." His hands trailed
down her arms as he slowly slipped the gown lower until it fell to the floor to
pool at her feet. "With such
beautiful breasts." He continued to
nuzzle the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder while he set about
untying the drawstring of her white, ruffled pantalets. Slipping the pantalets past her hips to drop
to the floor, his hands lingered over the supple contours of her back side,
"And perfect, graceful curves."
Vash's entire body flushed with
excitement as she felt the tender warmth of Jean-Luc's strong hands over her
skin, drawing the gown and pantalets from her body. Her trepidation was subsiding as she began to fall under the
persuasive sound of his masterful voice.
Tightly grasping her waist,
Picard captured the hardened peak of one breast in his mouth. Ravenously, his lips and tongue teased and
tormented one stiff peak and then the other.
He felt the muscles of his body tighten and his hardness growing with
each passing moment.
When his mouth claimed her
breasts, streaks of fire raced through Vash's body from the sensitive
peaks. With a low moan, she cupped his head
in her hands and drew him in as close as she could, feeling the sharp ache grow
as he suckled first one breast and then the other. Her breathing came in ragged gasps as Jean-Luc trailed hot, moist
kisses back up over her chest and throat.
Straightening up to look into her face, he pulled her to him and splayed
his hands low across her back molding her hips to his. Vash trembled at the erotic pressure of his
hard arousal pressed against her through the leather of his trousers. She panted under her breath, "You're
already . . . Oh Jean-Luc. . . I can feel you against me."
"It's no wonder, my
blue-eyed siren, I've been aching for you for what seems like days."
Picard rumbled just before his lips covered hers in a fiercely possessive
kiss. As his tongue plundered the
depths of her mouth, he crushed her soft, supple curves against him. Her arms encircled his neck as she returned
his passion. Breaking the kiss, he
pulled back from her. Effortlessly, he
swept her up in his arms and carried her toward the bed. He rasped hoarsely, "Bedtime, fair
maiden."
Vash buried her head in his
shoulder listening to the rapid pounding of her own heart. She welcomed the reassurance she found in
the strength of his arms, the solid expanse of his chest, and the clean,
natural, masculine smell of him.
Gently, Jean-Luc laid her down on the soft bedding. Desire smoldered in his steel grey eyes as
he quickly stripped off his boots and trousers. Vash's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the hard
length of his body and her eyes went wide with astonishment. Looking up at him, she stammered,
"That's huge. It's never going to
fit."
"It always has before. And if you're not careful with those kind
comments, by the time we get back to the Enterprise my male ego will be
huge." He chuckled softly, as he moved to kneel on the bed next to her.
Inquisitively, Vash reached out
to wrap her hand around him. Jean-Luc
closed his eyes and groaned as the hard length leapt at her touch. She delighted in his reactions as she
experimented with different rhythms.
Picard opened his eyes to see
the mischievous expression on Vash's face.
'The little minx, quick study indeed.'
He thought to himself. Taking a
deep breath, he gently captured her hand and moved it away. "You can play later, chere. Right now, I have a mission to
complete." He moved one hand down
to gently nudge her legs further apart.
Feeling her tremble with nervousness, he slowed his pace to rebuild her
passion and make her forget her fear.
He moved over her, grasping each of her small hands in his and spreading
their arms to either side. "That's
it, just take a deep breath." He
coaxed as he nuzzled her sensitive skin.
"Feel how we fit together."
Picard mumbled against her throat, feeling her relaxing beneath the
reassuring weight of his own body.
Releasing her hands, he moved back slightly to give himself room to
tantalize and torment his nervous bride until she was lost in the sensations.
Lowering his face to hers,
Jean-Luc began to nibble at Vash's lips with brief, feather-like kisses. The teasing nips made her yearn for
more. Her skin tingled as Jean-Luc's
large hands slid up her stomach to rest just below the full curves of her
breasts. Covering her mouth with his in
a long, deep kiss, his hands cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the
hardened peaks. 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 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 still cupped in his
hands. His lips imprisoning the stiff
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 surreptitiously 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. She was wet. His voice resonated over her skin as he
rasped, "Mon Dieu, your body is incredibly responsive."
"Please . . .Oh
Jean-Luc," Vash whimpered
mindlessly, 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 virtuoso, taking her to near insanity. The burning needs his questing hand was
building threatened to overwhelm her.
"Ohhh . . . Please . . . it's too much."
"Not nearly," Picard breathed in her ear, nipping at the
sensitive earlobe as he continued to arouse her. He carefully slipped a finger inside, finding the expected
barrier. Mindful of the boundary, his
fingers continued to caress and fill her erotically. Knowing her body's rhythm as if it was his own, he took her just
to the edge and tethered her there. As
her hips started to move against his hand, he growled with masculine
satisfaction, "Right there, chere? . . .Oui . . .right there."
Jean-Luc's erotic ministrations
set every nerve in Vash's body on fire.
When his hand suddenly left her, she moaned in confusion.
"Jean-Luc?"
"Let me in, Vash."
Picard commanded gently as he moved to cover her body with his own.
"Jean . . ." Vash's wavering voice trailed off. The hard length of Jean-Luc's body weighed
her down, pressing her into the soft bedding.
With his coarse chest hair tormenting her inflamed nipples, she writhed
beneath him, desperate from the carnal ache inside her.
"Let me in. I can feel your body, petite amie. You're ready." Picard coaxed. Vash shifted her legs and he settled himself between her
thighs. With his arms braced on either
side of her shoulders, he hovered over her.
As he nudged himself into her
softness, he groaned, "Oui . . . you're ready."
Vash gasped at the erotic
pressure of him pushing against her.
She felt him ease himself just barely inside her, his body gently
rocking back and forth, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of things to come. Every fiber of her being seared with sexual
passion. She wanted to surrender
herself to him, to feel him deep inside her, filling her completely. Her arms encircled his neck and her eyes
locked with his as she pleaded breathlessly, "Please, Jean-Luc . . . do it
now . . . I need to feel you inside me."
"Look into my eyes, ma
chere. Trust me." Picard whispered
in a soft, bedroom baritone. Giving him
a small smile, she nodded and grasped his broad shoulders. He entered her with one deep, powerful
thrust, his body completely filling hers.
Vash bit her lower lip to keep from crying out, her small hands digging
into the hard muscles of his shoulders.
Wanting to give her body time to adjust to his, he held himself immobile
and used his weight to pin her hips in place. The feeling of her body seizing
his was almost overwhelming. He had
expected it to be a very snug fit. It
always was. However, he wasn't prepared
for this. 'Mon Dieu, she's tight.'
Picard thought to himself as sweat beaded on his brow and he took in deep
breaths, struggling to control himself.
Lowering his head, he nuzzled her neck and murmured into the soft skin,
"Vash . . .my sweet, sweet Vash."
The pain was quick, sharp and
then subsided. She took comfort in his
masculine presence and the weight of his body pressing hers into the soft
bedding as her body adapted to his. As
he nuzzled her neck, she could feel him buried deep inside her. The heat and fullness of it were utterly
delicious. This new and exciting
sensation was now fueling her desires.
Moving restlessly beneath his long hard form, she purred,
"Jean-Luc?"
Picard lifted his head to stare
down at her, his grey eyes filled with loving concern, "Are you all right,
ma petite? Did I hurt . . ."
"I'm fine." Vash assured him, tenderly wiping the
perspiration from his brow. Encircling
his neck with her arms, she gazed up at him through her lashes. In a soft, shy voice, she whispered,
"Make love to me, Jean-Luc."
"Je t' aime." Picard whispered, his mouth capturing hers
in a deep, passionate kiss. Never
breaking the kiss, he began moving in and out of her softness in a slow, steady
pace. As her movements fell into step
with his, he reveled in the waves of pleasure that washed over him. His lips and tongue mimicked his body's deep
caress of the beautiful woman beneath him.
He felt Vash's body tightening around him, drawing him in deeper and
deeper. He could sense her impatience
as the supple curves of her body instinctively molded to his. He gradually increased the rhythm and she
matched his movements, the urgency overtaking both of them. Breaking the kiss, he raised his head up to
look down into her lovely face. Vash
opened her eyes to the captivating gaze of her husband. Not breaking stride, Picard watched her eyes
fill with wonder as she arched herself toward him, her entire body shuddering
as she lost herself in her first release.
Vash collapsed into the soft
bedding, spasms and tremors of pleasure still racing through her body. She looked up to see Jean-Luc smiling at
her, appearing insufferably satisfied.
Still breathless, she teased, "You seem rather pleased with
yourself, Captain."
"Not with myself, with
you." His voice was husky with desire as he corrected her. "I've never seen anything as beautiful
or as erotic as you are at the peak of ecstasy."
"Je t' aime." She replied, blushing at his praise. She glanced up at him coyly from the corner
of her eyes. "I take it this . .
." she clenched herself around him deep inside, delighting in his
surprised groan, "means we aren't finished yet?"
Out of concern for her, Picard
pushed his own desire aside. Tenderly,
he asked, "Are you sore, chere?"
Stretching indulgently, feeling
the brief spark as her hips moved slightly around him still inside her, she
purred, "Not nearly enough."
Smiling at her characteristic
response, Picard rewarded her with a hot, deep kiss full of the promise of
passion yet to come. Moving one hand
down to the small of her back, he pulled her hips tighter against his own. Breaking the kiss he murmured, "well,
in that case," and swiftly rolled so that he was lying on his back and
Vash was staring down at him with an astonished gaze. "You may indulge yourself."
With her hands splayed across
the hard expanse of his chest, Vash pushed herself to a sitting position. Watching his reaction carefully, she slowly
raised herself up almost pulling completely away from him, pausing a moment
before slowly lowering herself back down.
As she repeated the long, deliberate, stroke, she could feel his body
bury itself deep inside hers. With a
ragged breath, Jean-Luc grasped her hips.
Immediately, Vash clasped his hands in hers and spread them to either
side of his body. "Relax, my love. That's it, just take a deep
breath." Rolling her hips in a
circular motion, she cooed, "Feel how we fit together."
Hearing his own words thrown
back at him, he muttered softly under his breath.
"What was that?" She inquired sweetly as she rolled her hips
again.
"Witch, I said
witch." Picard gritted through
tightly clenched teeth.
"Sure, that's what I
thought you said." She chuckled at
the effect she was having on Jean-Luc and the heady sensation of power that it
gave her.
"Vash . . . s'il . . . vous . . . plait." He panted, pleadingly.
Once again bracing her hands
against his chest, she continued with her torturous, deliberate movements. The erotic milking sensation her movements
ignited spurred her to a faster pace.
Her knees dug into his sides as she came down on him over and over. She felt his hands move back to her hips and
his powerful thrusts matching her every stroke. Vash clenched her fists, curled among the coarse hair of his
chest, as the hard knot of desire drove her to a cadence of furious intensity. She closed her eyes as the urgency
blossomed. When her body rocked with
overwhelming ecstasy, she threw her head back, screaming out,
"Jean-Luc!"
Vash collapsed against his
Picard's damp chest. As her ragged
breathing rasped in his ear, his own body still craved release. He gave into the urge to roll them both over
and take her hard and fast. As he
pressed her back into the mattress, he growled, "I need you."
Nipping at his earlobe, Vash
wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper, tacitly encouraging
him on.
Needing no further urging, he
set a rhythm of intense hunger.
Fiercely, he drove deep into her over and over. His mouth claimed her lips in a searing kiss
just as ferocious as the way his body was possessing hers. Like a mirror image of his own need, she
matched him motion for motion. All of
his control was lost to the burning pleasure he felt as her body moved in
perfect synchronization with his own.
As Vash twisted her hips up to
challenge every powerful thrust, wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through
her. Once again, Jean-Luc was taking
her closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy.
His body violently plummeted into her own. As an explosive release tore through her, she arched toward him
crying out, "Ohhh my God . . . Jean-Luc
. . .it's happening again!"
"Yes . . .Oui . . .Yes." His roar of conquest merged into a feral
duet with her cries of surrender and he drove himself into her with a renewed
urgency. With one final hard thrust, he
held himself deep inside her as his own powerful release ripped through
him.
Vash welcomed Jean-Luc's weight
as he collapsed against her. Gasping
for breath, she wondered if her quaking body and racing pulse would ever calm
back down to normal. As their breathing
slowed, she nuzzled his shoulder and commented, "That was definitely the 'O' in Oh my God."
"So I heard." Picard
sighed contentedly, as he felt her small hands roaming over his back.
"And, we do this all the
time?" Vash marveled, enjoying the play of his strong muscles beneath her
fingertips.
He raised himself up on his forearms
and gave her a wry smile. "As
often as I can talk you into it."
Vash's hands drifted down to the
muscular expanse of his chest, her fingers running idly through the coarse
hair. She glanced up at him through her
lashes, "Of course, I suppose I never try to talk you into it."
"Lets just say you never
have to talk very long." Picard
replied as his appreciative gaze traveled over her. She was always so beautiful after lovemaking, with a rosy flush that
highlighted her ivory skin, her lush lips swollen from his kisses and her dark
hair fanned out across the pillow.
Vash couldn't help herself from
following this further. "These
brief conversations, have they happened anywhere interesting? Like your readyroom, the holodeck . .
."
"The readyroom was my
idea. However, the holodeck was all
your idea. I'm still astounded that you
modified that Dixon Hill program so that . . ." He trailed off as he saw her intently curious expression. With a rueful chuckle, he rolled off to lay
on his back next to her. "You're going to be the death of me, chere. The last thing I should do is give you any
ideas. Afterall, you'll have your
memory back soon enough."
"Well, I'm sure I leave you with the time and energy to make
it to the bridge." She teased.
"Barely."
"Are you implying I'm good
at this?" She baited impishly.
"Three times right out of
the starting gate?" He reached up
to rub the bridge of his nose. "I'd say that makes you something of a
natural."
"I think that has more to
do with the jockey involved." Vash giggled. Playfully swatting at his arm, she lamented, "Now look, you
even have me making those damn horse analogies. And my inner thigh muscles are still trembling."
"I'm not surprised. We've both had quite a workout." Picard
pulled the covers up over them. Drawing her into his arms, he gently kissed her
forehead as she snuggled into his embrace.
"We should probably rest, since we have no idea when Q will decide
to end this little game."
"Did you enjoy
yourself?" Vash asked with a drowsy smile.
"I think the answer to that
is obvious." Picard replied.
Watching her experience passion for seemingly the first time had been
more wondrous than he could have ever imagined. However, he was not about to admit that outloud to Vash while
there was a chance Q might over hear.
..............................................................................
"Of course he enjoyed
himself." Q's voice rang out just before the blinding flash of white
light. Picard and Vash were back in
their quarters on the Enterprise and everthing was just as it had been
before. Vash was standing in Picard's
arms, leaning back against his chest and wearing his uniform dress jacket to
cover her pink, babydoll nightie. Q
stood across the room from them with a smirk on his face, "And now we're
all right back where we started."
With a soft moan, Vash sagged in
Picard's embrace. Instantly, he swept
her tiny frame up into his arms.
"Vash?"
"I'm all right, Jean-Luc. It was just a brief wave of
dizziness." She assured him,
hearing the unmistakable alarm in his voice.
As he walked over to the bed, her arms encircled his neck and she gave
him a naughty smile, "That, and my legs aren't real steady yet."
Setting her down gently on the
bed, he asked, "Your memory?"
"Weird, but back. Afterall, how many women have two first
times?" Vash smiled up at him as she stroked his cheek with her hand.
"I could fix
that." Q offered. "By making her forget all the others."
"NO!" Picard spun to
face the entity. Regaining his
composure, he added, "You've done quite enough already."
"I was only trying to be
helpful." Q bemoaned.
"Helpful?" Picard echoed, "Then be someplace
else."
"And your thoughts, Madame
Picard?" The entity inquired.
Vash leaned back on the pillows
with a satisfied smile, "That it was a nice, uncharacteristically pleasant
surprise from you and it would behoove you to leave before the afterglow
fades."
"As you wish, my
lady." Q bowed to Vash before disappearing in a flash of light.
"He left. Just like that. He left." Picard noted in amazement, turning to look at
Vash. She hadn't heard him. She was curled up in his jacket, sound
asleep.