Title: Chocolate By Any Other Name

Author:  Whoa Nellie ([email protected])

Series:  TNG

Rating: R (for language)

Codes: P/Vash, C/Chakotay, R/T,

Summary:  Three couples vacation together in a twenty-fourth century look at the eternal battle of the sexes. This story was originally posted to ASC on November 6, 2003 and occurs in the Whoa Nellie universe "Reasons of the Heart" timeline, accepting all TNG canon through the movie "Insurrection" while adding Vash (from the TNG episodes 'Captain's Holiday' and 'Qpid') onboard as the ship's chief archaeologist and a post Endgame Chakotay onboard the Enterprise as ship's anthropologist.

 

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

Feedback is always appreciated, posted or e-mail.

 

Whoa Nellie's Romance Star Trek Fan Fiction Stories

http://whoanellie.fortunecity.com

 

Chocolate By Any Other Name

 

"Worlds may change, galaxies disintegrate, but a woman always remains a woman." -- Captain James T. Kirk, 'The Conscience of the King'

 

"If we're going to be damned, let's be damned for what we really are." -- Captain Jean-Luc Picard, 'Encounter at Farpoint'

 

 

 

                Standing next to the small, private transport vessel that the Lake Tahoe resort had provided, Commander Chakotay looked over at Commander Data.  "Are you sure you don't want to join us, Data?"

 

                "Although I appreciate the invitation, I must decline.  I will tend to my usual, unofficial duty in situations like this," Data replied.  "After you return, I will beam back to San Francisco."

 

                "Usual, unofficial duty?" Chakotay repeated, sounding baffled.  Data glanced past him to Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Commander William Riker before giving his most innocent Pinocchio expression.  In the short tenure he had served on the Enterprise, Chakotay had already come to know that meant Data was about to release a zinger.

 

                "Protecting the harem," the android answered as if it were obvious, gesturing back toward the bungalow behind him.

 

                "Data, while I realize that term was one of my own," Picard interceded amused, "it would not be in your best interest--or mine--for one of the trio to overhear it phrased that way."

 

                "Agreed, sir," Data nodded.

 

                "That explains Mr. Kennely's absence," Chakotay remarked as the three men climbed into the transport.

 

                "Since we're going to be with the ladies most of the weekend, it seemed a good opportunity to give him some time away from my wife in order to preserve his mental health," Picard explained.  He sat down in the pilot seat.  "So gentlemen, where to first?"

 

                "Anywhere the trio isn't."  Riker rubbed his chin and the beard Deanna had just recently allowed him to grow back.  He sat down next to the captain.  "We reserved a spacious, luxury bungalow with three bedrooms and a private bath in each bedroom.  The ladies have managed to fill all three bathrooms to capacity  with beauty accouterments and then all three ladies congregate in one bathroom.  Why?"

 

                "Number One, I warned you not to take the room with the largest bathroom.  Be happy the trio allowed you to shower," Picard told him wryly while smoothly piloting the small vehicle into motion.

 

                "I don't understand why they have to all congregate in one while still monopolizing the other two," Riker complained.

 

                "The best way to explain it is like this," Chakotay piped in from his seat behind Picard.  In a feminine falsetto, he continued, "She has a sweater that would look just perfect with her skirt.  Of course, she has a pair of shoes that would look just darling with that slacks outfit.  She wants to know if she could borrow her curlers because she just can't get her hair to do a thing in this awful humidity.  She has the perfect nail polish to match that shade of lipstick."

 

                "Is that an anthropological observation, Commander?" Picard quipped good-naturedly.

 

                "If memory serves me correctly, Captain, you had an older brother." Chakotay saw Picard nod.  "Well, sir, I had sisters.  Emphasis on the plural.  Of course, I left out the intensely whispered 'Can I borrow something?  I forgot and I'm due to start.'"  Hearing the anticipated groans from his companions, he chuckled, "That actually does have a factual basis.  Anthropological studies have shown that the cycles of humanoid females living and working in close vicinity with each other will synchronize."

 

                "I will never be able to unknow that," Riker grumbled, leaning back in his seat.

 

                "When I was a boy I had a good friend who had four very pretty sisters; two in front and two in back.  I always envied him, living with those lovely, mysterious creatures," Picard reminisced wistfully.  "I would often fantasize how wonderful it must be to live surrounded by gorgeous women."

 

                "And now?" Chakotay prompted, intrigued.

 

                "I spend my life surrounded by three breathtakingly-beautiful women; my wife, my CMO, and my ship's counselor.  All three have become very adept at telling me exactly what I need to do, how I need to do it and what I've done wrong," the captain lamented humorously.

 

                "Those three are quite a challenge," Riker chuckled picturing any one of the ladies taking the captain to task on an issue.

 

                "The women worth having always are."  Picard adjusted several flight controls.  "In fact, if Vash were any more worth having it would probably be the death of me."

 

                "Vash always reminds me of my youngest sister, a gregarious, angelic beauty whose halo was held firmly in place by her horns.  All you have to do is look into Vash's or Fireball's blue eyes and you know the two imps are plotting something.  It's Deanna with her sweet, demure looks and her serene counselor composure that hits you from behind when you least expect it," Chakotay remarked with a mischievous glint in his own eyes.

 

                Riker looked over at Picard.  "My wife, the stealth imp."

 

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

 

                "Are the boys still out fishing?"  Late the next afternoon, Beverly Crusher walked out from one of the bedrooms into the bungalow's living room to find Vash appearing very comfortable reading a book while curled up on one of the room's three couches.  The three sumptuously overstuffed pieces of furniture surrounded a large coffee table, creating a cozy seating area in front of the fireplace.

 

                "Of course," Vash closed her book and looked up at her friend.  "They'll probably be gone all day.  Didn't you see the elaborate fishing rod Jean-Luc brought back yesterday?  The line is strong enough to reel in a small whale and there are sensor arrays on the Enterprise not as complex as this rod.  The damn thing had a tricorder embedded on the handle that can tell you where the fish are, how deep the fish are, what species the fish are, not to mention how many fish there are.  I wouldn't be surprised to find out it could also call the fish into the boat.  Here fishy, fishy, fishy."

 

                Deanna entered the room carrying a small bottle of nail polish.  Laughing as she overheard the last remarks, she added, "claiming they were tired of shopping yesterday, they sent Data shopping with us.  Yet what did they end up doing?"

 

                "Oh no, they weren't shopping.  They were requisitioning equipment from an outdoor sports and camping supply depot.  Manly men procuring outrageously expensive and ridiculously complicated toys so they can," Vash held her forefinger and thumb a millimeter apart and finished in a squeeky voice, "drag itty bitty minnows back to cave."

 

                 Deanna choked back a giggle.  "Now that may not be entirely fair.  Considering Chakotay's heritage. . . " she trailed off seeing Beverly shake her head.

 

                "According to Captain Janeway, he needed some of her hair to start a fire under primitive conditions," Beverly corrected chuckling.

 

                Vash couldn't help herself.  "Well, considering who his current captain is, if Chakotay needs to start a fire out there he is just shit out of luck."  She gestured to the copper-colored sweater and leggings that Beverly was wearing.  "You should wear earth tones like that more often, Bev.  You have the perfect hair and skin color for them."

 

                "Thank you, but there's this pesky little detail of my uniform.  Just imagine Jean-Luc's face if I were to say, 'about the uniforms, Captain, are these the only colors they come in?'"  Beverly plopped herself down on one of the other couches.

 

                "There's a staff meeting I would love to see."  Deanna sat on the floor in front of the large coffee table in the middle and began to paint her nails.  Sighing, she continued, "I really dread dealing with whatever smelly, beady-eyed, minnow-like things they come back with."

 

                Vash reassured her companions.  "Worry not, ladies, Vash's no-no rules cover every eventuality.  Your captain knows better than to violate one of his wife's no-no rules, much less two of them in the same day.  First, you do not ask your wife to deal with your catch of the day.  You catch it; you clean it; you cook it."

 

                "I love it," Beverly mimicked Vash's tone before asking, "what's the second no-no?"

 

                "My profession requires that I have expert survival skills for all different types of environments.  Although I have tremendous love and respect for the great outdoors, I firmly believe it should stay outdoors.  Do not expect to get anywhere near me or my bed while still smelling gamey," Vash explained.  "Trust me ladies, the only thing that smells worse than dead fish is wet horse."

 

                "Chocolate . . .we need chocolate," Deanna muttered to no one in particular.  "I don't suppose either of you has any chocolate?"

 

                "Actually now that you mention it, I do," Vash replied setting her book on the coffee table before getting up and disappearing into the bedroom she and Jean-Luc were using.

 

                "Hey, Bev, did you see this?"  Deanna grinned gesturing to the book Vash had placed on the table.


                "Yep, she bought it yesterday."  Beverly picked up the book, one of the historical romance novels Vash favored when relaxing.  Like chocolate, it was a vice the three women shared.  The illustration on the cover of this book was very film noir with the a private investigator's office circa the mid 1940s.  A ruggedly handsome P.I. had a demure but sexy brunette pinned between his lean, muscular form and the office desk.  Vash had managed to find a 'Dixon Hill'-style bodice ripper.  "The Case of the Stolen Heart by W. Nellie.  I would love to have seen Jean-Luc's reaction to this."

 

                "He referred to it as a 'soft-boiled' detective novel, somewhat disdainfully I might add," Vash chuckled walking back into the room.  She carried a beautifully decorated box.  "Jean-Luc found this in a small, interstellar import shop yesterday and said it was the only box like it they had.  Considering there is probably close to two kilograms of chocolate in this box, I am assuming he meant for us ladies to share it."

 

                "Leave it to the Captain to think of a preemptive peace offering," Deanna mused watching Vash set the box on the table and open it.

 

                "Dig in, girls," Vash offered even as Deanna reached over to pick out a piece.  Amused by the sight of Deanna closing her eyes while savoring the confection, she asked, "good?"

 

                "That is an edible orgasm," Deanna managed around the mouthful of chocolate.

 

                "I wonder how late the guys are planning to be gone?" Beverly selected a piece of chocolate for herself.  As it melted in her mouth, she murmured, "damn, that is good chocolate."

 

                "How late are the guys are planning to be gone?  Gee, Bev, someone would think you're a newlywed,"  Vash teased choosing her own piece of chocolate and popping it into her mouth.  "Ummm, Johnny definitely earned a few gold stars with this.  Depending on how far they hiked to find just the right spot and how long they fished, they might be awhile.  We should find something to do besides staring at the door waiting for them.  Otherwise, we look like desperate adolescents."

 

                Taking a second piece of chocolate, Deanna asked, "do you have an idea?"

 

                "How about an old-fashioned pajama party.  We'll change into the satin pj's we bought, start a fire in the fireplace and make ourselves comfortable with some blankets and pillows.  We'll pig out on chocolate and talk about the boys while doing each other's hair and nails."  Vash took a second piece for herself.

 

                "And that won't look adolescent?"  Beverly quipped taking another piece of chocolate.

 

                "Of course it will.  But, it takes the whole desperate thing out of it," Vash retorted with a giggle feeling just a bit giddy.

 

                Deanna stood up deciding the silliness of the plan fit her current mood perfectly.  "Can't argue that, and it does sounds like fun--silly, but fun.  I'll change and then go get the blankets and pillows."

 

                "I'll get the necessary cosmetology supplies," Beverly offered in a perky voice.

 

                "We already have the chocolate so I'll get the fire going."  Vash sauntered over to the fireplace.  Reaching over, she activated a control nestled on the side of the mantle.  A roaring fire blazed in the fireplace.  "Oooh, that was tough."

 

                "And you did it without using anyone's hair," Beverly chuckled, patting Vash on the shoulder as she walked by on her way to her room.

 

                "You know, sometimes I amaze even myself," Vash laughed, making her way to her own room to change.

 

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

 

                Several hours later, Chakotay walked into the bungalow followed by Riker and Picard.  He immediately noticed the roaring fire in the fireplace with blankets and pillows spread on the floor and chocolate wrappers strewn over the coffee table.  With perfect hair, make-up, manicures and pedicures, all three women wore identical, royal-blue, satin pajamas.  Unable to stop from chuckling, he cracked, "Spirits, it's the Andrews Sisters."

 

                "The who?"  Riker asked, not recognizing the reference.

 

                Chakotay shook his head.  "Never mind.  It was an obscure and archaic twentieth century reference which showed only that I've spent too much time with Tom Paris."

 

                "Ugh!  Did you catch the fish or did they catch you?"  Deanna groaned wrinkling up her nose as the scent of muddy water and dead trout wafted through the air.

 

                "Back!" Vash held her hands up defensively, "mountain of fetid and odoriferous flesh that claims marriage of me."  Her dramatic paraphrase from Comedy of Errors was undermined by the snorting giggle that escaped her.

 

                Beverly's face mirrored her cohorts.  "Something is rotten in the state of Nevada."

 

                "Gentlemen, I believe that is the ladies' way of telling us to hit the showers," Picard stepped up beside Riker and Chakotay.  He added dryly, "although, it could have been done without the senseless slaughter of the Bard."

 

                "Ohh, let's not bicker and argue about who killed who," Deanna admonished with a giggle and  trying not to breathe too deeply.

 

                "And Chakotay,"  Vash called out as the men began to make their way toward the bedrooms.

 

                "Yes, Your Majesty," he quipped, playing off of the Queen Bee moniker that Riker had bestowed on the captain's wife.

 

                "The three of us actually prefer The Shirelles," Vash corrected him.  Standing together, all three women sang in harmony, "soldier boy,  oh, my little soldier boy.  I'll be true to you."

 

                Shaking his head at the impromptu serenade, Picard disappeared into one of the bedrooms to take his shower.

 

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

                Picard and Chakotay stepped out of their rooms at virtually the same moment to find Riker already standing in the hall.  The sound of three women giggling echoed as the Enterprise's First Officer warily eyed the living room.  He stroked his beard and muttered, "something odd is going on out there."

 

                "Sounds like the ladies are having a slumber party," Chakotay replied.

 

                "Not that.  Deanna's mind feels clouded, out of focus, as if she's intoxicated," Riker explained.

 

                "Number One, are you telling me that the trio raided the liqueur cabinet tonight for something to wash down their chocolate?"  Picard raised an amused an eyebrow.

 

                "It doesn't feel like alcohol.  It feels more like the Psi 2000 virus infection."  Riker squinted as he tried to discern something useful from his wife's presence.

 

                "Merde," Picard swore under his breath remembering how the inebriating virus had ransacked his crew the first year he commanded the Enterprise D.

 

                Chakotay looked from one to the other, confused.  "Psi 2000?"

 

                Picard rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "A highly contagious virus that caused intoxication-like effects in everyone who was infected--including my normally dependable android."

 

                "At least this time we don't have to worry the main computer being knocked offline while we're trying to outrun a collapsing star," Riker joked.

 

                Becoming a bit concerned about his new bride, Chakotay started to move toward the living room.  "Are you saying they're high?"

 

                "As kites," was Riker's response.

 

                "We need to find out if they are and if so from what."  Picard turned to walk out into the living room.  There was no sense in putting it off.  He approached where the trio sat and asked,"So what have the three of you been indulging in this evening?"

 

                "Chocolate and root beer," Vash answered in a perkish twitter.

 

                "The dinner of champions," Deanna declared hoisting up her root beer bottle.  Beverly found this vastly amusing and fell to the floor giggling hysterically.

 

                "Vash," Picard gently coaxed as he held out his hand.  Her usually impeccable balance was off and she wobbled as he helped her to her feet.  Standing her in front of him, he steadied her for a moment before letting go.  Noticing her glassy-eyed look, he held up a single index finger and slowly moved it from right to left and back again in front of her face to see if she could track it.

 

                Reaching out and cupping his hand in her two small hands, Vash drew Jean-Luc's finger up to her mouth.  She gazed up at him lasciviously, her pink tongue sensuously sliding up and down his finger.  She paused to lick her lips and cooed, "hi."

 

                "You certainly are," Picard noted dryly while determinedly ignoring the implications of her provocative actions.  She went to step closer and lost her balance, falling into his arms.  She snuggled into his embrace, molding the soft curves of her body against him.

 

                "Your aftershave is such a turn-on," Vash whispered breathlessly drinking in Jean-Luc's clean, masculine scent while nuzzling his neck and gently tugging on his earlobe with her teeth.

 

                Wanting to hide his amusement at watching the captain try to handle Vash's sex-kitten act, Chakotay picked up an empty bottle to examine it.  "This is just root beer."

 

                "The only other substance they've had is the Delavian chocolates I picked up for them yesterday," Picard said.  He shifted away from Vash's roaming hands and tried to get her attention.  "Vash, focus, when did this start?"

 

                Riker picked up the box of candy from the center of the table.  "These are Dalevian chocolates, not Delavian."

 

                Looking confused, Picard began, "They are . . ."

                "Ours!"  Beverly cried out as Riker held the chocolate out of reach.

 

                "Put the chocolate down and no one gets hurt," Deanna pointed the neck of her root beer bottle defiantly at her husband.

 

                "That might have been intimidating, Counselor, if any one of you ladies could actually stand up without assistance," Picard pointed out amused.  "Obviously there's a significant difference between the two."

 

                Vash started to roll her eyes and got dizzy, slumping against Jean-Luc's hard body and remembering where she had been going before.  "Obviously, Johnny made a boo-boo, let's kiss it and make it allllllllll better."

 

                Picard sighed and captured his wife's roving hands.  Wanting to know how much of the chocolate was missing, he looked over at his first officer.  "Pieces?"

 

                "I've got your piece right here, big boy," Vash purred lustfully pressing herself against him.

 

                Unable to contain himself any longer, Chakotay's head rolled back as he roared with laughter.

 

                "Commander."

 

                "Sorry, Captain," Chakotay managed to smother the last few chuckles.  Kneeling down in front of his wife, he gently asked, "Beverly, where is your medical tricorder?"

 

                "Tricorder, schmicorder.  I have a better idea, dimples," Beverly uttered suggestively, making a clumsy grab for the waistband of Chakotay's trousers.  "Let's go play doctor."

 

                "Down you go, chere."  Picard gently lowered Vash back down to sit on the floor, surreptitiously enjoying the sight of Chakotay trying to disentangle himself from Beverly.  Standing back up, he gestured across the room, "gentlemen."

 

                The three men walked to stand halfway across the room.  Picard sighed, "gentlemen, I know my own wife quite well and I've also known both of your wives for a long time and have seen how they react to various forms of intoxication."

 

                "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor," Riker noted, referring to Deanna's now-infamous first meeting with Zefram Cochrane.

 

                "Thoughts, Captain?" Chakotay inquired, having only narrowly avoided his wife's grasp while doing her own sex-kitten act.

 

                "A gentlemen's agreement.  We need to find out what we're dealing with first, but until we get this sorted out, it would behoove all of us if whatever happens here stays here." Picard looked from one man to the other.  "Agreed?"

 

                "Yes, completely agreed, I concur whole heartedly," Riker replied.

 

                "Absolutely.  What happens on Risa stays on Risa," Chakotay nodded.

 

                Riker held up the chocolate.  "We need to find out exactly what this is, what it does and what we should do about it.  Quickly and discreetly."

 

                Picard nodded.  "Suggestions."

 

                "The Doctor," Chakotay offered, referring to his former holographic shipmate.

 

                "Contact him," Picard indicated to the bungalow's comm panel before turning to Riker.  "Number One, keep an eye on the trio, please."

 

                "Aye, sir." Riker started over to where the ladies were seated.

 

                "What can I do for you, Commander," the EMH was saying as Picard moved to stand next to Chakotay.

 

                "What can you tell me about Dalevian chocolates?" Chakotay inquired, getting right to the point.

 

                The holographic doctor paused for a moment, checking his database before answering, "A rather expensive confection with a reputation for being one of the galaxy's best-tasting chocolates.  Of course, that reputation may come from the fact that it has a mild opiate-like effect on the human brain."

 

                "That would explain Will's sense of Deanna," Chakotay glanced over at Picard.  He turned his attention back to the Doctor.  "Is there any way to counter the effects?"

 

                "Dalevian chocolates are illegal, Commander, so I won't ask how Counselor Troi  managed to ingest a contraband substance.  Can I assume from this communication that your wife has also partaken of this less-than-legal substance?" the EMH paused for a moment, badly suppressing a grin.  "Let me see if I understand the situation correctly, Dalevian chocolates were accidentally eaten by Counselor Troi, Dr.Crusher, . . . Mrs. Picard," his voice climbing slightly as he trailed off.

 

                At the same instant that Picard realized the EMH was looking past him and actually addressing Vash, he felt his wife drape herself over his shoulder.

 

                "Hello, Doctor," Vash greeted the EMH in a somewhat slurred purr.

 

                "Hello, Mrs. Picard," he responded.

 

                "I'll bet they're asking you how to fix Johnny's little ooopsie," Vash giggled with a hiccup.

 

                "That's right; although, I was not aware the Captain was the one who had made the mistake."  The EMH's tone became one of practiced patience like that often used with small children.  "Mrs. Picard, can you tell me how much of the chocolate you ate?"

 

                "Lots!"  Vash squealed losing her balance and falling into her husband's arms.  Gazing up at her husband, she cooed lasciviously, "nice catch, sweet thing."

 

                "Sorry, sir, she escaped."  Riker came up beside them.

 

                "It's all right, Number One.  It was probably for the best.  It allowed the Doctor to see what we're dealing with."  Picard handed his wife over to his first officer.

 

                "Let's take you back to your friends, Your Majesty."  Riker swept Vash up in a fireman's carry over his shoulder.

 

                "Johnny once tried to carry me this way out of the tower of Nottingham castle."  Vash could be heard telling Riker as he took her back across the room.

 

                "Doctor," Picard returned his attention to the comm link.

 

                "You will be relieved to know that the effect is temporary and there are no ill effects either long or short term.  The bad news is that there is nothing that will counter the inebriating effects of the substance.  The three of you will just have to sit with your wives and wait it out," the Doctor explained.

 

                "What should we expect, Doctor?" Chakotay asked.

 

                "Several more hours of intoxicated-like behavior before they become groggy; afterward, they will probably sleep the rest of it off.  By morning they should be fine.  I'm relatively close by here at Starfleet Medical, if a problem should arise, gentlemen, contact me.  I can be there within moments," the EMH assured them.

 

                "Thank you, Doctor," Chakotay replied before closing the comm channel.  He glanced over at the captain.  "Maybe we should keep the three of them together in here for the night."

 

                "The three of us together trying to contain the three of them.  That might give us a fighting chance," Picard smiled wryly as they walked toward where Riker had the trio sitting on the floor around the coffee table.  "Sensible precaution, Number One."

 

                Chakotay eyed the three ladies, "You can't fall off the floor."

 

                "Status," Picard requested

 

                "Herding cats, sir," Riker commented distractedly while gently removing Deanna's hand from his hair.  Turning to his wife, he verbally answered her telepathic question, "No, you're not getting the chocolate back."

 

                It was Beverly who protested, "but the Captain gave it . . ."

 

                "And the Captain taketh away," Picard responded dryly.

 

                "Forget it, Bev," Vash advised her friend.  "Johnny's got that expression in his voice and that tone on his face."

 

                Out of the corner of his eye, Picard caught Chakotay shaking his head and mouthing 'ouch' to that comment.  The captain sat down on the couch behind his wife and prompted, "and what expression and tone might that be?"

 

                "You know, that really annoying, but incredibly sexy, 'captain thinks he knows best thing'," Vash replied looking over her shoulder at him.

 

                "You like it when he takes control, huh?"  Beverly teased her friend.

 

                Vash leaned back against Picard and sighed, "oooh yeah, seeing him all commanding makes me so . . ."

 

                "Vash!"  Picard quickly cut her off, afraid of where that sentence was going.

 

                Taking a seat on the other couch behind his own wife, Chakotay decided to help his commanding officer with a little diversionary tactic.  "So, what were you ladies doing before we so rudely interrupted you?"

 

                "We're having a pajama party," Vash answered blithely.

 

                Deanna looked up, swaying slightly.  "With pajamas," she informed them.

 

                "We were doing each other's make-up, hair and nails," Beverly added.

 

                "And talking about sex," Deanna chimed back in with even more information for the men.

 

                Beverly braced her arm on Chakotay's thigh, oblivious to how close her elbow came to the top of his thigh.  "That's the best part."

 

                Chakotay eased the point of her elbow away.  "If so, then I must be doing something wrong."

 

                Riker sat down behind Deanna.  "Oh, good plan, Chakotay, encourage them."

 

                "What exactly were you discussing?" the question was out of Picard's mouth before he realized the lack of wisdom in voicing that curiosity in the given situation.

 

                "Oh baby, let me show you." Vash managed to awkwardly climb up into her husband's lap and claimed his lips with hers in a passionately-heated kiss.  When he gently pushed her back, breaking the kiss she pouted, "It's better when you help."

 

                "It's better when you are fully in charge of your faculties." Picard lifted her off of his lap and placed her back on the floor.

 

                "This from the man who couldn't get between my legs fast enough while camping on a cave floor," Vash grumbled to her cohorts.

 

                Picard sighed loudly.  "You were completely sober and wide-awake, I fail to see the connection between then and now other than torturing me."

 

                "A cave?"  Beverly leaned forward, her curiosity piqued.

 

                "When we met on Risa and were searching for the Tox Uthat.  Jean-Luc must have thought it was hidden in my panties," Vash giggled.

 

                Deanna snorted in amusement, "Did he find it?"

 

                "No, but he still keeps looking every chance he gets . . .well almost every chance," Vash quipped laughing.

 

                "Mon Dieu," Picard lamented under his breath rubbing the bridge of his nose.  It seemed the ladies were now completely ignoring the fact the men were there.  He was startled by the sound of Beverly's hand hitting the coffee table.

 

                "That was it; that was the dream," Beverly crowed, suddenly remembering.

 

                "What dream?" Vash blinked, confused.

 

                "I can't believe I never told you this.  Come here," Beverly giggled and motioned with her finger for Vash to lean in closer.  "It was that last year on the Enterprise D while we were on a mission to Kesprytt to  . . . to . . . do something very Starfleety.  Anyway, the Prytt took Jean-Luc and I hostage and implanted us with these devices that linked us telepathically.  The night we camped during our escape, Jean-Luc fell asleep first and I overheard a very interesting dream he had about you."

 

                "What kind of dream?" Vash prompted in a conspiratorial tone, ignoring her husband loudly clearing his throat.

 

                "A very erotic dream," Beverly raised an eyebrow, wickedly enjoying the look on Picard's face.  "That night in the cave on Risa, when Jean-Luc was finished searching your panties for the Tox Uthat, did he happen to call out to you in French."

 

                "Oui," Vash cooed triumphantly.

 

                "Vash," the captain sighed.

 

                "That's it!  That's exactly what Jean-Luc said in the dream," Beverly giggled as Picard slumped back into the couch in defeat.

 

                "Psych 101, he probably has that same dream every time he sleeps on something hard," Deanna twittered happily.

 

                "So do I," Vash snickered.

 

                "Thank you, Counselor," Riker muttered sardonically.

 

                "Oh come on, William."  Deanna turned to look at her husband.  "It's not like any of us believed the captain stormed Nottingham castle single-handedly and impaled Sir Guy because the woman stimulated his intellect and shared his love of archaeology."

 

                "I would like to remind everyone that all of that was just one of Q's twisted little games and none of it was real," Picard interjected even though he knew it was hopeless.  The trio was on a roll.

 

                "What would a woman have to stimulate in order to get the flagship captain to storm fictitious castles and duel with pretend villains?" Chakotay teased, unable to resist.

 

                "Bevy, hand me that unopened bottle of root beer."  Vash took the offered bottle and twisted the cap off.  Grasping the bottle by it's long slender neck, she placed her thumb over the opening and vigorously shook it up and down.  She eased the bottle past her lips, removing her thumb from the top.  Sliding her mouth up and down the neck of the bottle, she swallowed the root beer foaming out of the bottle without spilling a drop.  Finally taking the bottle from her lips, she inquired sweetly, "Does that answer the question."

 

                "Chakotay, that wasn't entirely helpful," Picard noted dryly, pointedly ignoring his wife's impromptu talent show.

 

                "Sorry, sir."

 

                "Anyway, according to what I remember from this dream, that night in the cave must have been absolutely incredible," Beverly continued, undaunted by the interruptions.  "So, dish."

 

                "Absolutely, but, it wasn't *the* most incredible experience I've ever had," Vash divulged.

 

                Deanna's eyes sparkled.  "Ooh, share; it *was* with the captain, wasn't it?"

               

                "Of course.  No one else even comes close."  Vash paused for a moment, remembering.

 

                "So what was *the* most incredible experience?"  Beverly prompted, impatiently.

 

                "Hands down, it was the night we spent in the Consul's palace during Interstellar Conference on Pacifica.  After leaving the reception, we barely made it to our room before Johnny had me pushed up against the open doorway of the balcony and took me hard and fast right there.  I don't remember ever being so turned on in my life," Vash smiled impishly.

 

                'Not a word, Dee.' Deanna heard Will's voice in her head.

 

                "So, Doc, what was your most incredible experience?" Vash looked over at Beverly.  "The shower in the men's locker room back at the Academy?"

 

                "Starfleet Academy?" Picard just could not believe what he just heard.  Moreover, how did his wife know about it.

 

                Beverly turned and shot a grin at Picard.  "A most delightful way of getting a woman veeeerrrry wet."

 

                Chakotay laid her head on his knee, gently covering her mouth with his hand.  "It was during our previous relationship while I was at the Academy and she was in medical school."

 

                Licking Chakotay's hand which prompted him to move it away in surprise, Beverly continued.  "He was very hot, horny and absolutely insatiable."

 

                "I wasn't the one who initiated the shower scene," Chakotay reminded her, ignoring the gleeful look that Picard was shooting in his direction at the turn of conversation.     

 

                At this point Deanna felt as if she needed to help Chakotay clarify.  "Just chalk it up to being young, dumb and full of . . ."

 

                "Deanna!" Will Riker almost shouted, cutting his wife's statement off.

 

                Beverly patted Chakotay's knee comfortingly.  "It's okay, when Jean-Luc was young, dumb and full of cum he ended up with an artificial heart cause his got pierced straight through.  Your piercing was much more fun, at least from my end of your blade."

 

                "Spirits," Chakotay sighed.

 

                "And it's not like I can claim being young to explain that tattoo I got," she added as an afterthought.

 

                "Tattoo?" Picard echoed, immediately sorry he did.

 

                Beverly sprang to her feet, nimbly avoiding Chakotay's hands.  "It's neat, wanna see?  A shooting star, get it?  Fireball!"  Her hands went to her waistband and she pivoted to stick her bottom in his face.

 

                "No!" Chakotay exclaimed, lunging toward her.

 

                Picard quickly grabbed her hands and held her in place until Chakotay managed to retrieve her, badly concealing a smirk in Chakotay's direction.  "I do not wish to see anything that requires the removal of your clothing."

 

                "We wanna see," Deanna pleaded.  "You're holding out on us."

 

                "Yeah," Vash chimed in.  "Share.  And when did you get that?"

 

                "My wedding day," Beverly announced proudly.  "It was a surprise for Chakotay," she leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "he reeaaalllly licked it--and liked it, too."

 

                "That teddy probably showed it off real well," Vash theorized.

 

                Deanna looked at Will.  "I need to get one of those teddies so I can show off the results of those fencing lessons that the captain has been giving you."  She turned to the ladies.  "One time, when I lost to him in a swordfight duel on the holodeck, he--"

 

                "Is warning you not to finish that sentence," Riker said softly.

 

                "That good," Chakotay chuckled.  "I guess I'll have to take up swordfighting."

 

                "Just keep your dagger sharp," Deanna cautioned him.  "There's nothing worse than razor burn down there."

 

                "Oh God," Riker buried his face in his hands as everyone else in the room burst into gales of laughter.

 

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

 

                Hours later, Picard sat on the couch facing the fireplace; the lights had been dimmed and the room was quiet except for the crackling of the fire.  The trio had finally fallen asleep.  Picard glanced over to the couch where Deanna was curled up with a blanket in Will's lap, her delicate, petite frame a stark contrast to her husband's tall muscular build.  On the other couch, Beverly lay stretched out with her long legs across Chakotay's lap.  Vash also slept on her side curled up beneath a blanket with her head on a pillow nestled in his own lap.  Looking down at her, he tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from her face revealing her lovely features, so innocent, almost angelic in sleep.  He heard Chakotay quietly give voice to his thoughts.

 

                "When they're asleep like this you can picture the sweet, little girls they must have been."

 

                Absently stroking his wife's hair, Picard responded with a hint of a smile.  "Yet, when she is awake, Vash can be more trouble then a cargo ship full of drunken Ferengi."

 

                "You wouldn't change a thing.  In fact, Captain, I've seen you revel in it," Chakotay chuckled softly as he adjusted the blanket covering Beverly.

 

                Picard's barely-there smile widened slightly. "Guilty as charged.  Nevertheless, it does make one appreciate the more tranquil moments."

 

                "Careful, Chakotay, your years as a first officer are showing," Riker teased in a whisper.

 

                "Since you're awake Number One, would you care to explain Deanna's intriguing reference to holodeck fencing duels?" Picard inquired.

 

                "She managed to acquire a holonovel version of Rebecca Brandywine's 'Desire in Disguise,'" Riker answered, shifting Deanna in his lap slightly.

 

                "Ah yes, the Crimson Witch and the Black Mephisto," Picard nodded knowingly.  He was familiar with some of the characters since the more favored romance novels were often traded back and forth by the trio.  "I had no idea the fencing lessons were being used for such a salacious purpose."

 

                Chakotay chuckled, "Apparently I have some reading to do in order to catch up on the knowledge that the two of you have acquired to defend yourselves from the trio with."

 

                "Don't worry, Chakotay," Riker assured him.  "Us guys have to stick together, a united front against the estrogen brigade storming the castle."

 

                "Does that mean I get fencing lessons, too?" Chakotay shot a grin and wink at Picard.

 

                Leaning back into the sumptuous cushions of the couch, Picard closed his eyes.  "Good night, gentlemen."

 

***FINIS***

 

The Goddess Faqtor

 

Reasons of the heart Index