The BLTS Archive - Perfectly Resistible
ninth in the Reasons of The Heart universe
by Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)

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

Feedback is always appreciated.

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Onboard the Enterprise E, Counselor Deanna Troi gazed out the large
window in the forward lounge at the beautiful oceanic world of
Pacifica.  Deanna could think of a thousand things she'd rather be
doing at the moment than playing hostess to a number of self-important
diplomats.  Many of the VIP's from the Interstellar Conference
currently being held on the planet had requested and been granted
tours of the Federation's flagship.  The tour had concluded with a
small reception in the forward lounge.  Her mother's voice sounded in
her head.

'I'm telling you that woman came here with only one purpose in mind.
You should do something to intercede.  After all, they are your
friends, Deanna.'

'Mother, please just let me do my job.'  Deanna thought back, forcing
herself to not put a hand to her head.

'Well, I don't need your fancy psychology degrees to tell me she is .
. .Oh how did William put it once . . . a snake in the grass.'
Lwaxana informed her daughter from across the room.

'She has *done* absolutely nothing at this point, Mother.  Since
Captain Picard offered to allow you to stay onboard during the
conference so we would have more time to visit, why don't you go ahead
and get settled in your guest quarters.  When I'm done here I'll meet
you for lunch in my office.'

'All right, little one,' and with a last, tender, mental caress
Lwaxana swept out of the lounge.

"Counselor Troi?"

Deanna turned at the soft feminine voice behind her.  Kamala of Vault
Minor was a tall, lithe beauty, whose effortlessly graceful movements
added to her air of seductive mystique.  The diaphanous material of
her robes obscured her feminine silhouette only enough to invite a man
to look more closely.  "Kamala of Vault, allow me to express the
Federation's condolences to you and the people of Vault Minor on the
death of your husband.  Chancellor Alrik was well respected and he
will be missed."

"Thank you."  Kamala nodded quickly, barely acknowledging the comment
before continuing.  "I'm surprised Captain Picard isn't here.  I
thought surely as the ship's commanding officer he would at least make
an appearance."

"I'm afraid the Captain is occupied with ship's business today.
However, I believe his wife and he are planning to attend the banquet
at the consulate's palace."  Troi answered, a little taken back by the
complete indifference she felt in Kamala toward her husband's very
recent death.

"His wife?  Picard is married?!"  Kamala stammered in shock.

'Oh shit!  Nothing's more annoying than my mother being right.'  Troi
thought to herself, buffeted by the strong emotions coming from the
metamorph, disbelief and fierce jealousy followed by staunch
determination.  Oh well, the Captain's marriage was public knowledge
and Kamala was bound to find out.  Clearing her throat slightly, she
continued in her most calming counselor voice, "Captain Picard was
married less than a year ago on Earth to Archaeology Councilmember
Vash, who heads up the Enterprise's Archaeology department."

"Thank you for your time, Counselor,"  Kamala replied tightly.
Pivoting on her heel, she turned and left.

'It's going to be a very long day.'  Troi thought with a sigh.  At
least, the captain had been unavailable.  She suddenly realized Picard
must have seen Kamala's name on the list of diplomats and made himself
unavailable.  Glaring up at the ceiling toward the bridge, she
muttered under her breath, "A little forewarning from you would have
been nice, sir.  And I'll wager my last week's poker winnings you
haven't said a word to Vash about this either.  You're nothing if not
consistent."

 ---

Kamala had found the information she wanted in the Enterprise's
extensive library, one of the ship's amenities that had been made
available to delegates at the conference.  Archaeology Councilmember
Vash's auspicious career as a field archaeologist with all of its
colorful adventures and misadventures was well documented.  Much
harder, but not impossible, to find was information on the woman's
relationship with the starship captain.  The brash, young
archaeologist had met Picard on Risa while searching for an
archaeological artifact two years before Kamala's own voyage on the
Enterprise D.  As she read, she recognized that Archaeology
Councilmember Vash must have been the basis for many of the
requirements in a mate she had sensed from the captain. Not that it
mattered, Kamala had bonded to him making her his perfect mate.  No
other woman could ever sense his needs and fulfill them the way she
could.  No man could reject an empathic metamorph in favor of another
woman.

 ---

"The markings are definitely not Iconian.  That narrows the field down
to some version of  Dewan, Iccobar or Dinasian."  Vash Picard muttered
from where she knelt on the floor of her lab studying the base of a
large metal slab.  The markings were obscured by the layers of dust
and dirt accumulated over a millennium of neglect on an abandoned
planet. With a small brush, she painstakingly moved a little more dirt
aside to reveal just another section of markings.  Standing up, she
handed the brush to one of her assistants before wiping her hands on
her khaki work pants.  "Barbara, I want you and Dan to work on
cleaning this up a little.  Trey and his team are still busy with the
measurements on the other artifact from the find.  I'll check my
office for any reference materials on variations of those languages."

On her way toward her office, Vash stopped next to a piece of
malfunctioning lab equipment.  Lieutenant Robin Lefler, from
engineering, knelt next to it scowling.  "If it's that bad, Robin, I
can always requisition a new one."

Glancing up, Lefler gave the captain's wife an impish grin, "It tasks
me!"

"Of all the things I'd expect a Starfleet engineer to quote, a whale
of a tale about a whale and a captain with an ego the size of a whale
wouldn't make the cut."  Vash chuckled before disappearing into her
office.  After going through numerous archaeology journals, she
finally found several that would prove useful in determining the
etymological roots of the markings on the slab.  Standing in front of
her desk, she began to gather up the PADDs that would be helpful to
her staff.

"Archaeology Councilmember Vash," Kamala stood in the open doorway of
the archaeologist's office.

"Yes."  At the sound of her full title, she straightened up and turned
around to face the door.  Instantly an old adage came to mind:  a
pretty woman will turn boys' heads, a beautiful woman will turn men's
heads and a gorgeous woman will turn other women's heads.  The woman
standing in the entry of her office definitely fit into the latter
category.  The archaeologist found herself feeling a little
self-conscious of her dust-covered, work clothes.  Pushing a stray
lock of hair from her eyes, she asked,  "May I help you?"

"It's obvious you're immersed in your research, Professor.  So, I'll
get right to the point." The woman's voice was coldly matter-of-fact.
"I am Kamala of Vault.  I was born an empathic metamorph with the
ability to sense what a potential mate needs, what gives him the
greatest pleasure and become that for him.  At the stage of bonding, a
metamorph must imprint upon herself the requirements of one man and
serve as his perfect partner for life.  My marriage to Chancellor
Alrik had been arranged at my birth to create peace between Vault and
my home planet of Krois.  Due to a mishap caused by some Ferengi, I
emerged from stasis aboard the Enterprise D before the ship could
reach Vault and I bonded to Captain Picard.  Now, with Chancellor
Alrik dead and a lasting peace treaty between Vault and Krois, I have
completed my role in history.  Captain Jean-Luc Picard is mine and I
have come for him.  You could never hope to fulfill his needs and
desires the way I can.   If you truly care for him and his happiness
you will step aside."

For the first time in her life, Vash was completely speechless.
Blinking once, her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped at the audacity
of what this woman was saying to her.  She was still completely
dumbfounded as the woman turned and left.

Everyone working in the lab had heard the woman's pronouncement.
Robin stood next to Barbara Caldwell, a pretty brunette reminiscent of
a younger Vash.  Caldwell was the youngest member of the archaeology
lab and considered the professor a mentor.  They watched Kamala
saunter out of the archaeology lab.  As the lab door slid shut, the
two women glanced at each other and then back at the closed door.  In
unison, they both called out, "Bitch."

"Maybe one of us should check on her?"  Barbara suggested in a soft
voice, inclining her head toward her boss's office.

Before the young engineer could respond to the idea, Vash purposefully
strode into the room with her head held high and her shoulders
squared. Swallowing once, Lefler greeted her, intentionally
emphasizing another of her titles, "Mrs. Picard."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"I happen to know that the captain and Commander Riker have spent most
of the day holed up in the captain's Ready Room working on systems
reports."  Robin offered, even though Vash could have easily gotten
Captain Picard's location from the computer.

"Thank you, Robin."  Vash managed a small smile.  Handing several
PADDs to Barbara, she added, "See what you can do with these, Barbara.
I may or may not be back later this afternoon."

"Yes, Professor."  Caldwell nodded.

 ---

Picard looked up with an annoyed expression on his face when he heard
his Ready Room door open without permission.  An enraged Vash barged
into room, slamming her open palm down on his desk, she hissed,
"Kamala of Vault.  Start talking, Johnny!"

'Oh shit!'  Riker thought to himself hearing Vash speaking that
particular name in her most austere voice.  The voice that usually
sent freshmen running for the admissions office to drop her class.
Wanting to get the hell out of Dodge, he began to stand up from the
couch, "Maybe I should let you have a few minutes alone."

Without even glancing at him, she commanded icily, "William, sit.
You're here to keep me from killing him." As the first officer quickly
retook his seat, Vash addressed her husband, "You're bonded to another
woman!"

Leaning forward in this chair, Picard asked sharply, "Who told you
that?"

Vash glared at him.  "She did, right before she announced that she had
come to claim what was hers, namely you."

Determinedly not squirming in his seat, Picard decided to try calm
reasoning, "Are you sure you didn't misunderstand her, ma chere."

"The merry widow marched herself into my lab and in front of my entire
staff and Lieutenant Lefler declared that she was intent on stealing
my husband!  Believe me, there was no misunderstanding her.  She was
clear as a bell about her objective!" Vash took some satisfaction when
her husband winced at the public nature of the confrontation.
Obviously, the empathic hussy wasn't aware of Jean-Luc's abhorrence to
his private life being made public. "You're bonded to another woman
and you didn't deem it a relevant piece of information to share with
me!"

"I'm not bonded to her."  With a deep breath, he admitted, "However,
she imprinted herself on me.  The Enterprise was taking the Krois's
ambassador and Kamala to Vault to seal the peace treaty.  The
Ambassador was badly injured by a Ferengi onboard and I was forced to
stand in for him.  I considered her unavailable and I did everything
possible to discourage her interest."

"You failed, miserably."  Vash shot back beginning to pace the room.
Catching her reflection in the window, she angrily rubbed at a smudge
of dirt on her jawline.

Picard sighed wearily, "Regardless of her intentions, you have nothing
to be concerned about."

Vash spun on her heel to face him.   "Nothing to concerned about?
She's an empathic metamorph with the ability to sense whatever a man
desires and become that for him, genetically engineered to be every
man's wet dream.  And the man she has set her sights on just happens
to be my husband.  How am I supposed to compete with that?  Have you
seen her, she's absolutely gorgeous."

Screwing his courage to the sticking place, Riker dared to speak,
"Vash, do you own a mirror?"  Standing up to face her, he continued,
"I may be rushing in where angels fear to tread, but you're not being
fair.  You're an incredibly beautiful woman."

"Yes, she is."  Picard agreed with his first officer as he stood up
and straightened his jacket preparing to take over his own defense.
As he walked over to his wife, he continued.  "Kamala once described
what she would need to become in order to be my ideal mate.  Someone
who is independent, forceful, brilliant and adventurous."  Standing in
front of Vash, he combed his fingers through her silky hair.  He
stared directly into her beautiful blue eyes and stated softly, "You
are all those things and so much more."

"Even like this?"  She glanced down at her dusty, shapeless work
clothes.

Noticing that his first officer had discreetly wandered to the far
side of the room, Picard murmured in his best bedroom baritone,
"Especially like this.  It reminds me of that first night we spent
together in the cave on Risa."

"Stop being suave and charming, I'm not finished being mad at you
yet,"  she retorted, looking up at him through her lashes.  "Are there
any other lonely widows out there with the hots for you?"

"I wouldn't know nor would I care.  I do apologize for not telling you
about Kamala when I approved the diplomatic contingent from Vault's
request for a tour of the ship.  I was not planning to see her while
she was aboard and I--"

"You chickened out of telling me about her, thinking that I would
never find out."  Vash finished his sentence for him.

"Guilty as charged." Picard whispered very quietly in her ear.  "You
may impose my punishment later."

"Promises, promises,"  she giggled at the imagery.

Her amusement was cut short by a very ardent kiss.

After Vash left, Riker tugged on his uniform jacket and did his best
impersonation of his C.O., "Nicely done."

Sitting back down in his desk chair, Picard wearily rubbed the bridge
of his nose, "A lesson in command, Number One.  Everything that
happens to you will eventually come back to bite you in the ass."

"Yes, sir."  Riker nodded as he sat back down on the couch.

 ---

Outside Counselor Troi's office door, Vash hesitated for a moment.
Although talking to Jean-Luc reassured her, it hadn't completely
placated her.  She kept playing the contemptuous scene in her office
over and over in her head.  She knew that Deanna was having lunch with
her mother and hated to intrude.  She started slightly at the
Ambassador's voice in her head, 'You're not intruding, my dear girl.
Now, come in and join us for lunch.'

Walking into the room, Vash gave an exasperated sigh, "Do I get points
for not killing him?"

"If you didn't at least geld him you must be mellowing,"  Deanna
chuckled sitting down to lunch.

Mrs. Troi maternally draped her arm around Vash's shoulder and guided
her to a chair.  Sitting down next to Vash, she patted her on the
hand, "Now you just tell Lwaxana what happened.  Mr. Homn, a hot
chocolate for Mrs. Picard, extra fudge."

The door chimed just as Vash finished her tale of woe.  Walking in,
Beverly Crusher said, "I heard what happened and the computer said you
were here."

"Good news travels fast,"  Vash replied glumly.

"Especially on this ship.  How are you doing?"  Beverly asked
sympathetically as she sat down on the other side of Vash.

"I've been better,"  Vash muttered, taking a drink of her hot
chocolate.

"Did she actually suggest you step aside?"  The doctor sounded
astonished.

"That would more or less be a direct quote."

Beverly huffed with contempt.  "So now that Alrik is dead and she is a
widow, Kamala is convinced she has some sort of God-given right to
Jean-Luc and is expecting to be seen as his destined mate.  I'm not
sure that is as much gall as it is really pitiful.  What kind of
pathetic dolt insists on claiming the consortium of a man, especially
this particular man, when she chose to marry another man of her own
free will?"

"You're telling me, Doc."  Vash sighed leaning back in her chair.
"I'd never laid eyes on the woman until she stormed into my office and
demanded I hand him over to her."

"All I remember about her is that she was like a sexually-charged,
emotional rollercoaster ride with Sybil at the switch.  Her
personality seemed to change incessantly as she came on hot and heavy
to every man that crossed her path from Will to Worf to the group of
miners who were onboard.   When she finally settled on Jean-Luc as her
target she continually threw herself at him so hard that I thought she
was going to end up in my sickbay with severe internal injuries,"
Beverly recounted as Mr. Homn set a drink down in front of her.

"He never slept with her?"  Vash queried, somewhat taken by surprise.

The doctor shook her head no.  "I happen to know for a fact that he
never touched her."

"He told me he had done his best to discourage her.  Still, I assumed
that for her to have bonded to him they must have . . ." Vash didn't
really wanting to articulate the rest of her thought.

"I think the term imprinted would be more accurate than bonded in this
case . . . like a duckling,"  Deanna corrected.  "Ducklings, as well
as many other animals, are genetically designed to imprint themselves
on any moving object that just happens to be around within fifteen
hours of birth.  During this critical period, they will become
attached to and follow anything fitting that general description."

For the first time, Vash smiled, "Counselor, are you saying that all
this is nothing more than Jean-Luc being in the wrong place at the
wrong time and having . . . the right appendage."

"Precisely."  Deanna concurred inwardly amused by the summation of the
situation. "Vash, the captain is passionately in love with you.  He is
deeply committed to you and your marriage.  He has no inclination to
stray.  You need to trust him."

"Very nice, Little One," Lwaxana offered rolling her eyes.  "Spoken
like a woman who's never been married."

"Mother,"  Deanna grumbled letting her head fall to the table with a
soft thud.  Feeling amusement over the mother/daughter interaction
lift Vash's mood slightly, she decided it was worth the small amount
of frustration.

Mrs. Troi continued undaunted.  "Deanna is right that Jean-Luc loves
you very much and you should trust him.  However, I would not trust
our metamorphic friend any farther than I could throw her.  I did a
little checking after I left Deanna in the lounge this morning.  It
seems that Miss Kamala of Vault has already been scheming.  The
conference will be concluding with a large formal reception at the
Consul's palace, which is considered to be one of the most beautiful
and romantic places in this sector.  A select group of VIP's will
receive invitations to stay the night after the reception.  I
discovered that Jean-Luc's name was added to the list by special
request of the Vault delegate.  The suite of rooms assigned to
Jean-Luc will be side-by-side with Miss Kamala's suite on the third
floor with balconies overlooking the royal gardens and the ocean.  One
can only assume she intends on using her empathathetic connection to
seduce him."

"Jean-Luc can't turn down an invitation to the palace overnight.  He's
representing the Federation and the Consul would consider it an
insult," Vash huffed with frustration.  "That's just great!  How am I
supposed to compete?   I'm not an empath."

"No you're not and she's not a telepath.  However, I am,"  Lwaxana
noted succinctly.  Adding in a soothing, maternal tone,  "Now, I've
quietly arranged for your name to be included on the invitation for
the reception as well as the night at the palace--not that Jean-Luc
wouldn't have thought to bring you along anyway, but details are
important.  My dear, here is how you're going to use the tart's own
empathic sense and fixation on your husband to send her packing for
good . . ."

 ---

"Come on in, Will."

Stepping into Deanna's quarters, Will Riker smiled as he openly
admired the vision of feminine perfection in front of him.  With only
thin spaghetti straps to hold it in place, a turquoise column of
glistening satin clung to the lush curves of the counselor's petite
frame.  The slit that ran up the front left side of the gown's skirt
parted to reveal a shapely length of leg with each step.  The
delicately exotic features of Deanna's face were perfectly framed by
her two ringlets of dark, silky hair, the rest of which was swept back
into a long cascade of soft curls tumbling down her back.  His voice
was slightly husky. "You look beautiful, Imzadi."

"Thank you."  Deanna flushed slightly at the intense, emotional
reaction he had to her.

"Now, tell me again how you got out of wearing one of these?"  Will
tugged uncomfortably at the collar on the white jacket of his dress
uniform.

"Because my invitation was through my mother and not Starfleet,"  she
cooed as she moved to stand just in front of him.  Reaching up, she
brushed a small piece of lint from his broad shoulder.

Not resisting temptation, Will gathered Deanna in his arms and lowered
his head to hers.  Her lips were soft and yielding under his and they
parted pliantly to the gentle pressure of his tongue.

As she felt the familiar spiral of desire begin to build, forcing
herself to break the kiss, she whispered.  "Later, Imzadi.  We don't
want to be late tonight."

Reluctantly, he reined in his passions and released her.  "Is there
something special about tonight that I don't know?"

Deanna smiled enigmatically and slipped her communicator into her
handbag.  "Just another dog-and-pony show."

"Deanna Troi, I have known you too long and too well.  You look like
the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary."

Gliding through the doorway with Will behind her, she shrugged.  "To
quote Data's favorite sleuth, 'something is afoot' and no, Imzadi, you
really don't want to know."

 ---

Kamala's eyes searched the magnificent ballroom of the Consul's
palace.  Along one wall were three immense archways leading to the
elaborate royal gardens.  In front of the center archway a small
orchestra played classical music from dozens of different worlds.
Beneath the melodious strains of the orchestra the soothing sounds of
the garden's many elegant fountains and the ocean surf lapping against
the shore could be heard.  She finally caught sight of  Captain
Jean-Luc Picard, his natural, commanding presence apparent in the way
he carried himself.   In full dress uniform, he was quite dashing.
Watching him converse with several delegates, Kamala noticed that
Archaeology Councilmember Vash was no longer standing next to him.
Glancing around, she quickly found the archaeologist immersed in
conversation with the Arbazan and Tellarite delegates, both of whom
were well-known archaeology enthusiasts.  Realizing this was her
chance, Kamala surreptitiously smoothed the diaphanous material of her
silvery white robes before moving toward Picard's direction.

While relating the story of how she met Jean-Luc while on Risa
finishing Estragon's work on the Tox Uthat, Vash heard Mrs. Troi's
voice in her head, 'Posts everyone.  Commence Operation Merry Widow.'
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Deanna take up a position near
Jean-Luc and Beverly positioning herself half-way between Jean-Luc and
Vash's location to keep the line of vision between them free.  She
smiled inwardly as Lwaxana cornered a very impatient-looking Kamala of
Vault. Reaching a rather humorous part, Vash continued her story to
the two delegates.

Picard listened attentively as the Rigelian, Frunalian and Lyaaran
delegates debated the ramifications of the trade agreement just voted
on at the conference.  Occasionally, he would comment on the various
complexities involved in the navigation of the different trade routes.
Unexpectedly hearing Vash's sprightly laughter somewhere in the
background, he turned toward her.  With her head just slightly tilted
back as she laughed, her dark hair fell in soft waves just past her
shoulders.  The two-piece, shimmering peach evening gown tantalizingly
bared the smooth, flat plane of her slender midriff.  The scoop
neckline of the long sleeved top provided an enticing décolletage.
The gown's sarong-styled skirt hung on the feminine curve of her hips
with a slit that ran up the center and parted to reveal a long, supple
length of leg with each step.  Although he knew the evening gown was
new, there was something so familiar about the sight of her in it.
'Risa.'  For a fleeting moment, it was the first time he had laid eyes
on her when she had thrown her arms around his neck passionately
kissing him in the resort's lobby.  He vividly recalled the jolt to
his senses the feel of her lush lips pressed against his had been.
The evening gown she was wearing happened to be an iridescent silk
copy of the captivating outfit she had worn during that first
encounter on Risa.

Discerning the Captain's emotional shift, Deanna swept her long curls
over one shoulder combing her fingers through them.  Her sense of
arousal unexpectedly intensified just before she felt Will's arms
encircle her waist.

"Wouldn't you prefer my hands stroking you like that?"  Riker leaned
down to huskily whisper in Deanna's ear.

"You're obscuring me."  She hissed.

"But . . . I'm behind you."

Deanna waved impatiently. "Wrong sense.  Go play somewhere else for a
while."

As Will moved off, Deanna could once again differentiate the captain's
emotions from the rest of the surroundings.  An electric charge shot
through her as the captain's eyes met Vash's.  She watched as Vash
lowered her head, peeking demurely through her lash before coyly
averting her gaze to toy with her necklace.  Warm, sexual emotion
quickly turned hot as Vash dragged the heart-shaped locket across the
smooth creamy slopes of her breasts.  'The first cast has been made.'
Deanna chuckled to herself.  As a waiter strolled by, Vash plucked a
chocolate covered strawberry from the tray.  'Oooh props!'  Vash's
small pink tongue darted out to swirl erotically around the sweet
confection. She was prepared for the captain's reaction but even then
the intensity surprised her.  The captain fought to rein in his
response even as Vash deftly popped the small strawberry into her
mouth.  Without looking, Deanna knew the captain had tugged on his
uniform jacket, squared his shoulders and taken a deep breath, pulling
his chin in slightly with a just a hint of a self-deprecating smile.
Vash tossed a brief, playful smile at him before seeming to revert her
attention to the conversation.  For his part, the captain returned to
his own conversation;  however, Deanna could tell that his real focus
never wavered from his wife.

'Mother?' Deanna sent the thought across the room.  'Vash is getting
him wound up, how is the Vault delegate doing?'

"Oh but my dear Kamala, how could you possibly manage that without a
conciglieri?"  Lwaxana was in her element, totally dominating the
conversation.  'She can tell, every telepath and empath in the room
can tell that the good captain in getting hot and bothered.  She's
getting agitated and she thinks I'm annoying.  She hasn't seen
anything yet.'

Satisfied that everything was going according to plan, Deanna turned
her attention back to Vash and the captain.  Standing in a casual
hip-hitched pose as she listened to the Arbazan delegate, Vash
seemingly inadvertently brushed the fingertips of one hand across her
bare midriff re-igniting Picard's burning need.  Deanna twirled a lock
of hair around her finger.  'Well, that explains the bellybutton
baubles Vash bought on Risa,' she thought to herself.  Two rather
handsome men, members of the Pacifica delegation, joined the group
Vash was talking with.  A sharp stab of desire shot through the
captain, nearly making Deanna moan aloud.  One of the men gestured,
offering Vash a nearby chair.

A heated argument broke out between two of the delegates, who stopped
right in Picard's line of sight to exchange their differing opinions.
Beverly quickly moved in.  Deanna didn't know what was said, but the
delegates moved off toward the gardens, presumably to finish their
conversation outside.

Seeing the disruption, Vash had taken her time, waiting until the way
was clear once again before she gracefully slipped into the chair.
She crossed her legs, causing the skirt of her gown to fall open and
expose the shapely length of her legs up to mid thigh.  Picard's
passions flared white hot.  Deanna continued to toy with her hair,
picking up handfuls of it and releasing it slowly, to stream down the
front of her shoulder.  As fascinated as the captain was with his
wife's navel, it was nothing compared to his lust for her legs.
Vash's evening purse fell to the floor in front of her chair and she
bent over to retrieve it--an ostensibly innocent action that must have
provided the captain with quite a view.  Deanna's senses were buffeted
by the strong wave of heated arousal that the movement provoked in
Picard.  Attempting to stabilize her own emotions, Deanna joked to
herself, 'Whoa Johnny, I thought Billy was the breast man on the
bridge.'   Catching her husband staring, Vash gazed at up at Picard
with a seductive, enigmatic expression as she slowly sat up straight
in her chair.

'She's reading every nuance, Deanna,' Lwaxana sent the mental update
across the room.  'It's working like a charm.'

Beverly surreptitiously coaxed a group of delegates a half meter over
after they stopped to talk in the line of sight.

Her own heart pounding with arousal, Deanna watched as, with a slight
toss of her hair and a flirtatious smile, Vash graciously accepted the
glass of champagne that one of the attractive Pacifica delegates
handed her.  'Bravo, Vash!  There's nothing like a little healthy,
male competition to spur on a man like the captain,' Deanna praised
silently as she watched Vash hold court with her admirers.   The
captain was no longer even pretending interest in the conversation
near him.  As the delegates vied for her attention, Vash took a sip of
her champagne. Deanna inhaled sharply at the sexual desire that surged
in Picard as Vash's eyes locked with his over the rim of her goblet.
Lowering the goblet, Vash held the base in one hand running the index
finger of her other hand delicately around the rim before moving down
to the stem. Lingeringly, Vash began stroking up and down the stem
with her fingertips.  The captain's need pulsed through Deanna's mind
demanding satisfaction with each caress of Vash's fingers along the
crystal stem.   Deanna took a deep breath to center herself,  'I sit
at the feet of a master.  She's managed to turn a crystal goblet into
a phallic symbol.'   Vash wet her lips seductively with just the very
tip of her tongue.  Casually, she sat back in her chair and stretched,
provocatively arching her back and then she crossed her legs in the
opposite direction they had been in.  As an intense wave of
determination combined with the captain's lust, Deanna smoothed her
trembling hands down her dress, her body throbbing in time with
Picard's.  'Oh my . . .  Imzadi.  You're about to get so lucky and you
won't have a clue as to why.'

'Mother, he's as tightly wound as she can get him in public, not to
mention me.  Release Kamala, he's going to be heading over to Vash any
second,'  Deanna flipped her hair behind her as a signal to everyone
that Picard was on the move.

Quickly excusing himself from the Rigelian, Frunalian and Lyaaran
delegates, Picard began to cross the room toward his wife.  Half way
to his objective, he was stopped.  He forced himself to tear his eyes
from the enticing sight of his wife to cordially acknowledge the
delegate. "Kamala of Vault, allow me to express my condolences to you
on the death of your husband."

"My, such formality, Captain Picard."  Kamala purred seductively.  She
lowered her voice.  "You, of all people, should realize there is no
reason to express condolences on Chancellor Alrik's death to me.  It
was simply a political marriage.  Chancellor Alrik was not the man I
bonded to.  It was not his requirements for a perfect mate that I
imprinted upon myself."

Thoroughly distracted by the teasing way Vash continued to play with
her champagne goblet,  Picard hadn't really heard the second part of
Kamala comment.  Moving past Kamala, Picard mumbled, "You'll have to
pardon me.  I need to see my wife."

Vash watched as Jean-Luc strode resolutely toward her with raw passion
blazing in his steel-grey eyes.  The crisp, white jacket trimmed with
gold braiding and the fitted black trousers of his dress uniform
emphasized his sleek, muscular build.  Her heart thudded with his
every step, the anticipation of what she had begun building to a
crescendo.

"Please excuse the interruption.  However, it is getting late and I've
decided it's time for me to reclaim my wife."  Picard's tone was
cordial as he addressed Vash's suitors.

"A very understandable decision, Captain," one of the Pacifica
delegates replied pleasantly.  "If I had such a lovely wife I'd never
let her out of my sight."

"Rest assured, gentlemen.  She never left my sight."  The captain
corrected casting a meaningful look at his impish wife.  He gallantly
offered his right hand to help her from her chair.  "Petite amie?"

"Of course, Jean-Luc."  Vash's voice was soft and seductive as she
laid her left hand in his right and stood up next to him.  She graced
her admirers with a charming smile.  "Goodnight, Gentlemen."

Standing together with contented smiles, Lwaxana, Deanna and Beverly
watched the Picards leave the hall.  Will Riker walked up behind them
and teased.  "That was quite a show you ladies put on.  I looked high
and low, but I couldn't seem to find a saucer of cream large for the
three of you to share."

Beverly raised an amused eyebrow as she looked over at Deanna,"Did I
miss something or did the love of your life just call our actions
'Catty.' "

"He did."  Deanna chuckled, shifting back against the strong, solid
body of her Imzadi.  The captain's arousal had fired her own needs and
they were still begging for release.

"Now, William . . ." Lwaxana's playful admonishment was cut off by
Beverly.

"Incoming,"  Crusher warned under her breath as Kamala stalked toward
the group.

"How dare you!"  The Vault delegate hissed stopping to stand in front
of Lwaxana.  "You interfering--"

"What I did was keep you from making a fool of yourself, child."
Ambassador Lwaxana Troi answered in an imperious manner befitting a
Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed.  "Everyone in this hall knows
that Captain Picard is a married man.  Learn from the history of your
own worlds.  The empathic metamorph, Garuth, loved two brothers, Krois
and Vault, causing the civil war that divided their empire.  Obviously
your precious imprinting during development is not as all-powerful as
you would have everyone believe.  Your obligation to your people is
over and you are still young and beautiful.  Find a man of your own.
Jean-Luc Picard will never be yours, his wife and he are what my
people call Imzadi.  You have felt the power of their bond for
yourself, you could never hope to break it."

After Kamala of Vault spun on her heel and stormed off, Deanna sighed,
"Even though she knows what you said is true, she isn't ready to give
up yet, Mother."

"She's heading to her suite of rooms, Little One; sometimes people
just have to learn things the hard way."  Lwaxana gently touched her
daughter's cheek before heading off into the crowd calling, "Come
along, Mr. Homn.  It's time to go."

Watching Deanna bite her lower lip and squirm restlessly against
Riker, Beverly decided it was time to make a discrete exit.  "I have
an early day tomorrow, so I'm going to beam up to the ship.  Goodnight
you two."

 ---

Reaching their suite of rooms on the third floor of the palace, Picard
tapped the keypad and the door slid open.  As Vash preceded him
through the door, she noticed that the luxurious suite closely
resembled the ones at the Risan resort.  She walked across the front
room and threw open the doors that led to the suite's small balcony.
Taking a step out onto the balcony, she leaned her elbows on the
chest-high stone wall and gazed out over the beautiful gardens and the
starlit ocean beyond. Enjoying the gentle breeze against her face, she
listened as the soft strains of the orchestra combined with the sounds
of the ocean surf.

Picard's eyes hungrily raked over his beautiful wife, his expression
revealing his intense desire for her.  He knew that she had been
deliberately playing with him at the reception, taunting him to get
him to come to her and, as usual, she'd won.  His body had been
throbbing painfully by the time he'd conceded victory and gone to her.
Not that his submission was anything new, somehow Vash always managed
to control her passion until his own control was gone--at least in
public.  Here in private, he could enjoy watching her release herself
to utter sensation.  The provocative two-piece evening gown she was
dressed in drew attention to her curvaceous silhouette, the graceful
arch of her spine and the soft, ivory skin of her bare midriff.  As
she bent to look out over the balcony, the muscles of his body tensed
in an ardent response to the way the flimsy material of her skirt
clung to the flare of her hips and the perfect roundness of her
backside.  He stalked toward her impatiently unfastening the clasp on
the tight collar of his dress uniform jacket.

"You should see this view,"  she gushed turning back around toward the
open doorway.  She inhaled sharply, startled to find him standing
right inside the doorway.

"Is this what you've wanted to accomplish all evening, my mischievous
siren?"  Picard growled deep in his throat, reaching out to sweep her
into his arms.  His mouth descended onto hers, crushing her lips
beneath his in a forcefully possessive kiss.  Stealing between her
parted lips, his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth searching
for and finding hers.  His hands moved to span the smooth, bare skin
of her slim waist pressing her back against the doorway as her soft
moan of surrender drove his urgency up another notch.

The impassioned timbre of his masterful voice sent Vash's pulse
racing.  Her breathing was shallow, her lungs struggling to inhale but
with every breath, his scent overwhelmed her.  A fiery surge of
arousal coursed through her as her lips and tongue battled his.  Her
hands moved to rest on Jean-Luc's shoulders, feeling the sinewy
muscles of his shoulders through his dress uniform and thrilling at
the breadth of them compared to her tiny palms.  Goosebumps puckered
her satiny skin from the stirring heat of his powerful hands against
her cool skin.  Her breasts swelled, urging him to caress them, and
the peaks stiffened to attention, demanding in their need.  Her entire
body felt as if it were made of liquid flames.

After her seductive performance at the reception, his need was
agonizing in its intensity.  As his mouth continued to attack hers in
a savage kiss, he lowered one hand slipping it into the slit of her
gown and sliding it up the soft skin of her inner thigh.  His
discovery that she wasn't wearing any panties under the gown's skirt
fired his imagination.  Had she worn any that day on Risa?  Reaching
his destination, his fingertips barely brushed the center of her
desire.  He rasped hoarsely into her mouth, "You're wet, petite amie."

The brief touch of Jean-Luc's fingertips as they grazed her damp,
tingling flesh left Vash aching with need.  She arched against him,
crushing her breasts against his chest and feeling her nipples grazing
across his own hardened nipples through the fabric of their clothes.
Again he ravaged her mouth, the coarse rasp of his tongue along the
sensitive depths sending heated waves crashing over her.  After that
one teasing caress, his hand moved to grip her thigh.  Pulling it up
to his hip, he wrapped her leg around his waist and pressed her
forcefully against the doorway. Vash gasped as she felt his hard
length throbbing against her.  'When had he managed to undo his
uniform trousers?  He wouldn't . . . not here on the balcony . . .
Have I actually driven him to the point of wantonly taking me in an
open doorway?'  She wondered in complete disbelief even as an
electrifying, erotic thrill sent her desires spiraling even higher at
the illicit thought.

"You've won, Vash,"  Picard's voice was thick with lust as he snarled
into her mouth, impaling her with one deep, thrust.  Her cry of
passion was muffled as his mouth seized hers in yet another demanding
feral kiss.  The cadence he set was a rhythm of furious intensity.
The slick depths of her body were so hot and tight, gripping him with
each thrust, frantically clutching at him in uncontrolled passion.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as small noises came from her the
back of her throat.  He drove into her with an ever increasing
urgency, his body craving more of this, more of her.

With her small body caught between the doorway and her husband's lean,
muscular frame, Vash abandoned herself to the strength and sheer
virility of Jean-Luc's masculine presence.  As his body impaled her
over and over, the heat and fullness of each thrust sent torrents of
intense sensations flooding over her.  She pressed her mouth harder
against his as his tongue ravished her mouth in a taunting imitation
of what he was doing to her body.  With each thrust, he buried himself
inside her, filling her completely and pushing her back against the
doorway.  An overpowering pressure was building inside her and every
sensation was magnified.

 ---

Languid sexual emotion combined with amusement washed over Deanna from
her Imzadi.  Although she had purposely kept herself from projecting
to him, she knew he had very adroitly interpreted the visible signs of
her arousal.  With her body's torrid desires simmering just below the
surface, Deanna took his Will's arm and suggested, "It's a beautiful
night and I've heard the palace's gardens are exquisite.  Why don't we
take a walk?  I could use some fresh air."

"Yeah, I bet you could," Riker chuckled softly as he led her toward
the gardens.  Walking down a winding path surrounded by exotic flowers
and elegant fountains, he leaned in to her ear to tease, "What's the
matter, Counselor?  Has your little prurient interlude of empathic
voyeurism left you hot and bothered?"

Trying desperately to ignore the seductive tickle of his breath
against the sensitive swirls of her ear, Deanna countered, "It was for
the greater good with nothing prurient about it.  Moreover, Vash did it
all on her own.  All I did was leave myself fully open to ascertain as
thoroughly as possible the direction of the captain's emotions."

"And your mother?"

"The Betazed delegate simply engaged the Vault delegate in a lengthy
conversation."  Deanna answered trying to sound as innocent as
possible.

"And the good doctor's part in this little play would have been?"
Riker inquired as they walked farther away from the party and deeper
into the starlit solitude of the gardens.

"Beverly made sure the line of fire was kept clear."

"I see."  Shaking his head, he continued, "Now this whole thing has
Lwaxana or Vash written all over it, but it's not like you at all."

"Really.  May I remind you who was Kamala's first mark for seducement
when she emerged from her so-called cocoon?"  Deanna eyed him
meaningfully from the corner of her eye.

"I told you about that?"  His step faltered slightly.

"Uh huh.  As I remember it, you admitted to barely making it out of
her quarters with your fly zipped.  The old Earth saying 'There but
for the grace of God go I,' comes to mind.  Vash actually handled this
with a great deal of discretion; after all, there were no broadswords
involved.  Kamala would have found me a much less gracious adversary."

Riker winced inwardly at the broadsword reference.  Vash had never let
the captain live down his performance in Q's little Robin Hood
scenario.  Now, Deanna was using it to skewer him.  The mischievous
smile she flashed led him to think maybe she was spending too much
time with Mrs. Picard.

"I am my mother's daughter," she cooed as she sauntered ahead of him.

Hurrying after her along the path, he almost bumped into her as she
stopped cold in her tracks.

Deanna moaned aloud as a staggering wave of arousal crashed over her,
sending her desires spiraling out of control once again.  She hadn't
yet managed to get her barriers back in place after the evening's
excitement, so the unusually intense emotion swept through her like a
hurricane.  When she looked up, her eyes found the Picards' balcony
and the source of the emotion became quite obvious.  Sensing Will
presence next to her she leaned against his strong, solid body.

Riker looked up to see what had caught Deanna attention.  On a third
floor balcony, Picard and Vash stood in a doorway engaged in an
impassioned kiss.  "There, you see?  All is right with world.  The
captain is sharing a romantic, starlit kiss with his *wife*."

"They're not kissing . . . I mean they're not *just* kissing,"  Deanna
gasped, failing to control the shudders of need that quaked through
her body.  With her mind overwhelmed by dueling desires, she couldn't
tell what came from Vash versus the captain.

"Come on, Captain Picard?"  Riker expressed in utter disbelief.
"You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not kidding, Will."  She managed to shake her head, gripping
the hard bulge of his upper arm for balance.  Even as she struggled to
banish the emotion, she knew that it was hopeless--she was caught in
the vortex of erotic desire.

"With the wall in the way, they're only visible from the chest up.
Are you sure?"  He wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her
steady.

"Yes . . . Look . . . closer  . . . Vash's shoulders . . . the
doorframe."  Deanna panted between ragged breaths.

It was becoming more and more difficult for Riker to ignore the
provocative sight Deanna's obvious sexual arousal.  He stared up at
the balcony again.  Sure enough, with her mouth crushed beneath
Picard's in a deep kiss, Vash's shoulders were being pushed up and
back against the doorframe; the libidinous nature of the rocking
motion was undeniable. The first officer couldn't believe what he was
seeing.  Captain Jean-Luc Picard, a man legendary for his
self-control, was ravishing his wife in an open doorway.  Riker
quickly turned away peering into darkness and secluded recesses of the
garden searching for anyone else.  He was relieved to find the garden
completely deserted.  He risked another look.  Holy shit!  He was
really screwing the hell out of Vash up on that balcony.  Turning to
Deanna, he muttered under his breath, "What did you women do to him?"

"Oh God, Will!  One of them is so close!"  A heated moan escaped
Deanna's lips as her trembling hands gripped the strong arm around her
waist tightly using every once of control she had not to move them
down to her own throbbing wetness.  Urgency mounting into an explosive
force pulsed through her mind with every heartbeat.  Her knees buckled
as she pleaded, "Oh please, Imzadi . . . This is too much . . . I need
you . . . powerful lust . . . carnal heat taunting this desperate
ache, Imzadi, please . . . it's so intense  . . . only you can release
me from this torment . . . now, Will, now!"  Overwhelming pressure
finally detonated in a cataclysmic release of wave after wave of
pleasure

As he held Deanna's petite frame tightly against him, Riker glanced
back up at the balcony.  Vash's body was arched upward with her head
thrown back in a silent scream of ecstasy and the captain's face
buried in the curve of her neck.  'Two lovely birds of paradise with
one stone.  Only you could manage that, Picard.'  Riker silently
saluted. 'It's just too damn bad you'll never know.'  He gazed down at
Deanna. The exquisite exotic features of Deanna's face were flushed
with her arousal.  He watched as the full curves of her breasts rose
and fell, threatening to escape the low neckline of her gown with each
trembling breath.  Dear God, she was breathtakingly beautiful like
that.  In a soft, low voice, he teased, "Was it good for you?"

Looking up at the massive man who held her, her eyes glittered in the
darkness.  "Imzadi, I'm just getting started,"  she purred
seductively. The white hot emotions of the vicarious release had left
her entire body highly sensitized and pulsating erotically.  She
decided Will had been sitting on the sidelines entirely too amused by
her predicament. Delicate, manicured nails wound into his hair,
pulling his head down to crush her lips to his in a deep, ravenous
kiss.  Her tongue flicked against his lips, coaxing his mouth open,
and allowing her to begin a thorough exploration of the warm, moist
cavern.  She could feel the entire length of his hard, muscular form
against her.  Her breasts crushed up against the expanse of his chest,
the taut peaks grazing solid muscle sending sparks radiating through
her from the aching crests.  As her mind reached out to his, her
thoughts were consumed with an uncontrollable desire.  She found him
already charged with anticipation and shared her own excruciating need
with him.  Their bond intensified the mutual desire, the throbbing of
his body thrumming through her mind even as her own desire fired his
need to meet hers.

Blood pounding furiously in his ears, he tightened his arms around her
waist and lifted her against him, not sure if the momentary annoyance
at the feeling of layers of clothing between them was her feeling or
his. Nothing existed but the dark, beautiful woman in his arms.  The
moss around the base of some nearby bushes made a soft bed, drawing a
whimper from Deanna at the imminence of satiation.  He knelt over her,
struggling to breathe through the firestorm of need, when a spark
blazed through him.  Suddenly, he was feeling the ground against his
back, his trousers being ripped open and shoved down his legs.  He
couldn't separate where he ended and she began anymore, his mind lost
in a swirl of desire, both hers and his own.

They were so close, completion was so near, the frustration flickered
through Deanna at how long Will was taking to end this painful
pleasure.  Surging against him, she pushed him over onto his back and
attacked him, stripping away the barriers to what she needed.  Tearing
off her own underwear, she straddled him and balanced herself with her
palms against his heaving chest.  Words weren't necessary, their minds
already joined, so without further preamble she mounted him.  Impaling
herself, they both moaned aloud at the sensation of being buried
completely into one another.  Her dress was bunched around her waist
and she felt the cold air against her nipples as he pulled the top
down to cup her breasts, kneading them strongly.  The pressure of his
hands added to her own need and, by extension, his.  She dug her knees
into his sides and began driving herself onto him in a desperate race
to reach the pinnacle of this heat.  Their hearts pounded in unison,
their bodies in perfect sync with each other as their minds entwined.
There was no sound but slickened flesh caressing and stroking
desperately. She could feel him, he was almost there.  She leaned
forward on her hands, increasing the tempo of her movements, slamming
herself down onto him harder.  His body pierced hers, a sense of
filling and being filled intermingling through their desire-hazed
minds.  At the split second before his release, she tightened herself
around him.  His hips bucked strongly against her and his orgasm
triggered hers, blinding heat exploding through their joined
consciousness.

Fading sparks of electricity tingled through his body as Deanna
collapsed against him.  His hands cupped her hips, holding her tight
against him so that their intimate connection wouldn't be broken just
yet.  She was still wrapped in his mind, a sensation that made their
sex so much sweeter than he'd ever found with anyone else.  Being able
to feel her inside him during their intimacy and afterward, as their
passions waned following their release was a warmth that added an
entire dimension to their bond.  Slowly he became aware of their
surroundings. He shifted uncomfortably against the scratchy moss under
his bare hind end.  "If I'm laying in anything poisonous, I don't want
to hear a single snicker from Beverly after *you* explain it to her."

 ---

A thin film of perspiration covering him, Picard rested his forehead
against the doorway, utterly drained from the physical exertion.
Vash's long leg was still wrapped around his hip and her fingers
clutched his shoulders through his dress uniform, her tiny frame
racked with tremors.  With each shudder, a small whimper punctuated
her ragged breathing.  The sharp edge of his lust abating, he began to
pull back slightly.  As his face brushed past hers, she turned to
press a soft, sweet kiss on his cheek.  The tender gesture of
devotion, so incongruous with the raw lust of the past few moments,
was overwhelming in its simplicity.  It always astounded him how this
woman could go from succubus to seraphim in the blink of an eye.
Looking down at her, his attention was drawn to her rose-petal lips,
now passion-swollen from his relentless kisses.  A heated flush had
swept up her ivory skin from the neckline highlighting her delicate
features.  Her eyes fluttered open, pools of liquid blue gazing
adoringly up at him through thick lashes.

Vash's hands slipped from Jean-Luc's shoulders to the hard expanse of
his chest feeling the powerfully corded muscles beneath his white,
uniform jacket.  Her leg slowly slid from his hip down his leg until
she was once again standing normally, the fabric of his trousers
coarse against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.  She searched
his handsome, chiseled features to find his steel-grey eyes filled
with desire and  affection.  Barely audible, her voice quavered
slightly, "Jean-Luc."

"Je t' amie, Vash," Picard vowed in a low, bedroom baritone burying
his hands in her dark hair.

Vash's insides turned upside-down at the declaration of love and  warm
timbre of  Jean-Luc's voice.  Her eyes drifted shut as he lowered his
face to hers, his lips brushing each eyelid in turn before moving to
drop kisses on her forehead.  He nuzzled her cheeks, his warm breath
tickling her skin, and ended his affectionate exploration with a
lingering kiss on the very tip of her nose.  His brief, feather-like
kisses made her yearn for more.  Her lips opened pliantly under his as
his mouth finally found hers for a long, slow, passionate kiss.  When
he slipped his tongue past her parted lips to gently stroke the warm,
moist cavern of her mouth, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered.
The sweetness of his kiss was aching in its tenderness.  She melted
into him, reveling in the unhurried passion.  When he finally broke
the kiss, she echoed in a soft whisper, "Je t' amie."

His appreciative gaze followed his fingertips along her smooth cheek
to trail down the graceful arch of her neck.  His fingertips slid past
the plunging neckline of  her peach gown to trace the swell of her
breasts. Quietly, he marveled, "Mon Dieu, you're even more beautiful
now than you were that first afternoon on Risa."

Vash demurely averted her eyes, looking down at her evening gown.
"You remembered?"

"How could I forget the first time I ever laid eyes on you or the
little two-piece number you were wearing?" Cupping her cheek with his
palm, he slipped his thumb under her chin to bring her gaze up to his.
"Although somewhat modest by Risan standards, the outfit bared just
enough to completely distract and disarm a vacationing starship
captain, especially when the charming nymph wearing it suddenly threw
herself into his arms and kissed him."

"I did make something of a first impression, didn't I?" she quipped in
a softly coquettish voice.

"A delightfully  memorable one, ma cherie," Picard replied in a deep
resonating whisper while gazing into her brilliant blue eyes.
Sweeping his lovely wife up into his arms, he carried toward the
bedroom.

A small sigh escaped Vash's lips as she felt his powerful arms lifting
her effortlessly.  She slid her arms around his neck and let her head
fall to rest on his shoulder, listening to the rapid pounding of her
own heart.  She lost herself in the strength of his arms, the solid
expanse of his chest, and the familiar scent of his aftershave.
Gently, Jean-Luc set her on her feet at the side of the bed.  Vash bit
her lower lip, all of her attention riveted on the man facing her,
their interlude in the doorway not nearly enough to satisfy her.  Her
fingertips glided up the gold piping on the front of his white jacket.
Reaching his shoulders, she drew lazy circles around his rank pips
with her index finger.

Picard stared down at Vash, completely transfixed.  With her head bent
forward slightly, her dark hair fell softly to brush his shoulder as
she sensuously trailed her hands over him.  The feel of her delicate
fingers playing with the rank pips on his collar was driving him to
distraction.

Vash's focus was drawn to the fasteners of his jacket.  She let her
fingers trail deliberately down the jacket, every clasp receiving her
intimate attention as she unfastened each one in turn.  Opening the
jacket as she went, her small hands slipped inside and traveled up to
push it off  his broad shoulders peeling it away to drop on the floor.
Undoing the fasteners of his shirt, she pulled it down his arms to
join his jacket.  She slid her hands down the tapering lines of his
body to the waistband of his trousers.  Her fingers tugged at his
T-shirt, pulling it free of his waistband.  Her hands skimmed over the
sculpted muscles of his chest as she pushed the thin cloth out of her
way until Jean-Luc finally stripped it off over his head.  There was a
sense of timelessness in the air, the feeling that nothing else
existed.  In no hurry to move things along, she stroked and caressed
his skin, just marveling at the power contained in his lean,
well-defined muscular body.  Pulling away from her touch, he moved to
stand behind her, her breath catching in her throat at the feeling of
his hand pushing her hair to one side exposing the delicate skin of
her neck.  Her eyes fluttered closed, a shiver racing down her spine
as his warm lips nibbled up and down her neck.

"Je t' adore," he murmured, nuzzling his face into the soft skin of
her neck just behind her ear. Unfastening the clasps of her evening
gown's top, he pushed it down, allowing it to slide down her arms
until it fell to the floor at her feet.  His lips brushed along the
feminine curve of her shoulder, his arms encircling her, his palms
easily spanning her tiny waist.  The musky smell of her perfume wafted
through the air, the scent as much an aphrodisiac to him as the sight
of her naked body.  His hands skimmed up the smooth plane of her
stomach to the full curves of her breasts.  His voice was once again
husky with desire as it reverberated against her skin, "I could spend
the rest of eternity cherishing you and making love to you."

Vash's head fell back against his broad shoulder, the sensitive peaks
of her breasts tingling against the heat and coarse pressure of his
hands cupping them.  A soft moan escaped her lips at the exquisite
sensation of his thumbs drawing deliberate circles around her nipples,
teasing the aching crests.  Almost imperceptibly, her body began
moving sinuously in response to his caresses, the desire slowly
rebuilding. Her nipples stiffened painfully at the cold air against
her breasts when his hands drifted down toward her hips and the waist
of her skirt.  Her body was beginning to throb with need.   Even as he
continued to devour her neck, he deftly unfastened the skirt of her
gown pushing it past her hips to fall to the floor to pool at her
feet.  Hungry for his mouth, she snaked her arms behind his head to
pull his mouth to hers for a deep kiss.  Frustrated by the awkward
position, she turned into the warmth of his body and thrust her tongue
between his lips in triumph.  Cupping his face in her hands, her
tongue plundered the depths of his mouth.

Blood began pounding through Picard's ears as Vash's tongue continued
to ravage his mouth.  Every muscle in his body tightened with the wave
of arousal that washed over him.  He deepened the kiss, acquiescing to
her demands.  His arms holding Vash tight against him, he placed a
knee on the bed behind her and carefully carried them both onto the
bed. Breaking the kiss, he raised his head.  His gaze slowly pored
over the full length of her nude body to treasure every exquisite
detail.  Every inch of this beautiful, irrepressible, impish woman was
his and brought him pleasure and enjoyment beyond measure.  Leaning
in, he nuzzled the delicate skin of her neck hearing her inhale
sharply as his mouth found the pulse point just below her ear.
Savoring her sweet scent, he whispered into the curve of her neck, "Tu
es beau."

"You are the most amazing man I've ever known, Jean-Luc." Vash moaned,
her head rolled back, baring her throat to the onslaught of his hot,
questing mouth.

"I could spend eternity like this," Picard rasped.  His mouth made its
way down the silken expanse of her skin toward the full curves of her
breasts.  Savoring the sweet taste of her skin, he thoroughly explored
every dip and curve with his lips and tongue.  He traced the swell of
her breasts with his tongue before placing an open mouth kiss at the
center of her cleavage.  His lips imprisoned the nipple of one of her
breasts and he leisurely swirled his tongue over the taut peak.  Vash
moaned his name as she held his head with both hands, pulling him even
closer.  Delighting in her impassioned reactions, he nipped at the
hardened crest slightly before suckling strongly.   He murmured
against her damp skin, "Tu es parfait."

Streaks of fire raced through Vash's body, the sharp ache growing as
he suckled first one breast, then the other.  The heat from his tongue
along with the sharp pull of his mouth and the occasional scrape of
his teeth soon had her writhing with raw need.  His hands slid past
her flat stomach, moving lower.  Finally reaching his destination, his
fingers inflamed the moist heat already aching for him. Her entire
body felt as if it was made of liquid flames as intense sensations
washed over her with every stroke of his knowing fingers.
Breathlessly, she urged him, "Please, Jean-Luc."

"You're so wet." He rasped in awe as the evidence of her arousal
bathing his fingertips drove his desire up yet another notch.  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 moved restlessly against his
hand, he rumbled with masculine satisfaction, "Mon Dieu, your body is
so responsive.  You're so close again, petite amie."

"Oh please, Jean-Luc .  .  . I need you, now .  .  . I need to feel
you inside me, a part of me," Vash whimpered, half-pleading,
half-demanding.  Jean-Luc's fingers stroked her with the skill of a
maestro, taking her to near insanity.  She tried to hold herself back,
wanting him to be with her.

The way her body tightly clenched against his fingers with each caress
told him she was on the threshold.  Her passionate responses inspired
him to leisurely watch her lost in the pleasure she was experiencing
at his hands.   He continued arousing her overheated body, content for
the moment to stake his claim on her in this erotic manner.  Watching
her struggle for control, he urged, "You know exactly what I want from
you. Just let it happen.  Surrender it to me, ma petite."

With every stroke of his knowing fingers, Jean-Luc was taking her
closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy.  It was the sound of his
voice, rough with his own arousal, coaxing her, that finally sent her
over.  Gripped in the throes of an orgasm quaking through her whole
body, she cried out, "Oh God . . .Oh Jean-Luc!"

"Magnifique." Picard marveled, as her entire body arched toward him
and she found her release.  He was mesmerized by the sight of her
laying naked before him and the look of total ecstasy she wore on the
delicate features of her face.  The power he had over this woman both
incited him and humbled him.  He could take her to the very edge of
sexual sanity and she responded without reservation or fear.  Of
course, that she held the same power over him went without saying.  He
wouldn't have believed his need for her could be so strong again so
quickly but the very provocative sight fueled his own ardent desires.
He quickly stripped off his boots and trousers before rejoining her on
the bed.

Vash collapsed back against the soft bedding, trying to catch her
breath as spasms continued to race through her body.  Her eyes
fluttered open to find him hovering over her.  She shifted her legs,
wordlessly inviting him closer to what they both wanted.  Jean-Luc
gently settled himself between her thighs stretching himself out
full-length to cover her body with his own.  The hard length of his
body weighed her down, pressing her body into the bedding.  She felt
her breasts crushed against the muscular expanse of his chest, the
coarse hair on his chest tormenting her already inflamed nipples.  The
juncture of her thighs was still highly sensitized and throbbed
erotically in response to the pressure of Jean-Luc's hard arousal
pushing against her.  He teased her by easing himself just barely
inside her, his body gently rocking back and forth.  In spite of her
exhaustion, she craved the feeling of his body deep inside hers,
filling her completely.  Vash's voice quavered slightly as she reached
up with one finger to trace the outline of his lips.  "Please
Jean-Luc, make love to me now."

"Je t' aime," Picard whispered, his mouth capturing hers in a deep,
passionate kiss.  With a long, slow stroke, he buried his hard length
into her heated depths.  Never breaking the kiss, he began moving in
and out of her softness in a slow, steady pace.  He reveled in the
waves of pleasure that washed over him, her body still trembling from
her last orgasm and writhing in time with his.  His lips and tongue
mimicked his body's deep caress of the beautiful woman beneath him.
He felt Vash tightening against him, drawing him in deeper and deeper.
He increased the tempo, feeling his needs increase as she matched him
stroke for stroke.

Vash yielded to the demands of his body, holding him tight against her
with her legs around his waist and her hands braced on his shoulders.
His mouth was claiming her, his tongue coaxing from her another
complete surrender.  She twisted her hips up to meet each powerful
thrust, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through her.  Her nipples
grazed his chest, sending streaks of fire shooting through her as her
body milked him with each thrust.  With every long stroke, she could
feel his body bury itself deep inside hers.  The heat and fullness of
each thrust sent torrents of intense sensations flooding over her.
Vash quietly moaned her passion into Jean-Luc's kiss.  She was riding
wave after wave of pleasure, completely consumed with the burning
pleasure of his body worshipping hers.  Unexpectedly, a third and
final breathtaking release crashed over her.  Breaking the kiss, her
head fell back and her entire body arched upward toward him, a
wordless scream of ecstasy on her lips.

The overwhelming pleasure of Vash's body shuddering around his was
Picard's undoing, sending him into the abyss.  His own passion
overtook him and he lost control.  With one deep, final thrust, he
erupted in her with a shout of satisfaction.  Collapsing onto Vash, he
felt her small hands traveling over the muscles of his back.  With a
rueful chuckle, he rolled off to lay on his back next to her.  "Madame
Picard is obviously in a much more agreeable mood this evening."

"I am now, seeing as a certain situation has been effectively dealt
with," Vash stretched indulgently, thoroughly spent.

Something in her tone sent alarm bells off in Picard's head.  Propping
himself up on one elbow, he eyed his wife expectantly, "What did you
do, Vash?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," she professed in her most innocent voice.
"Except entice my own husband into whisking me away from a reception
so he could make love to me . . . twice."

Now thinking more clearly, he replayed the evening's events in his
head and lifted an accusing eyebrow.  "Directly in front of Kamala of
Vault."

"Damn right, and it was the metamorphic strumpet herself who ended up
stepping aside as you strode right past her to come to me," Vash
admitted smugly.

"There should never have been any doubt in your mind about that
outcome; nor has there ever been a reason for you to doubt my love for
you.  You should trust me," he admonished pointedly, his voice a touch
tighter than he had meant for it to be.

"I trust you implicitly, Jean-Luc.  And I never for a moment doubted
your love for me or that it would bring you to my side,"  Vash assured
him earnestly.  A naughty glint lit her eyes as she raised her hand to
admire her wedding ring.  "In fact, I was counting on it.  Between the
uncontrolled lust and the tender love and affection, the Vault
delegate has gotten irrefutable proof of exactly who is Madame
Picard."

"And here I thought your performance was solely for my benefit."

"As always, my performance was for you and you alone.  It was your
very impassioned response that was in the spotlight.  And as usual,
your performance was par excellence, Mon Capitaine," she cooed,
reaching out with her left hand to idly trace designs with a fingertip
through the coarse hair on the muscular expanse of his chest.

"You've already played that card tonight, twice.  It won't work," he
advised, determinedly ignoring Vash's nude body seductively sprawled
across the bed next to him.

With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she pulled her hand away and
studied her perfectly manicured nails.  "You see, that's the beauty of
it.  It's already worked.  Splendidly I might add!  I'd wager that
Kamala has tucked her genetically-engineered tail between her legs and
is on her way back to Vault by now."

For a moment he looked at her confused.  Then the missing piece fell
into the puzzle and things made sense.  Reaching up to rub the bridge
of his nose, he muttered, "Kamala is an empath."

"Ohhh paydirt!  An ability I'm sure she was planning on using to
seduce you and probably why she arranged for her suite of rooms to be
next to yours . . . just on the other side of the balcony.  You
remember the balcony . . . where you so amorously ravished me a short
while ago," she taunted in a saucy tone.

'Merde, what was I thinking?'  He winced inwardly realizing he had
indeed made love to her in the open doorway of the balcony.  He hadn't
been thinking.  He had been feeling so overcome with lust for Vash
that nothing but sating his desire had mattered.  Which is exactly
what his very cunning wife had intended.  "You seem rather assured
that this little scheme successfully caused Kamala to depart, ma amie.
You have no way of knowing if she even sensed my emotions."

"Au contraire.  I have a fairy Godmother who just happens to be a
powerful . . . make that  . . . very powerful telepath."  Vash
countered matter-of-factly.

"Lwaxana Troi, I should have known," he groaned.  Taking a deep
breath, he began to firmly chide her.  "Vash . . ."

"Don't you dare lecture me, Jean-Luc Picard."  Vash sat up and glared
down at him, punctuating each word of the first sentence by poking a
finger none-too-gently at her husband's chest.  "Yes, I behaved liked
a world class bitch; moreover, I really don't care.  If Kamala of
Vault disliked sensing the carnal passions you have for your wife,
maybe she shouldn't have been empathically chasing after a married
man.  I didn't start this little cat fight, but I damn well finished
it.  The Enterprise may be your command but she is also our home, my
home.  That woman came into my home, my lab and humiliated me in front
of my staff. Did you actually think I was just going to do nothing?
What if the situation had been reversed.  How would you react if some
man waltzed onto your bridge and in front of your officers announced I
belonged to him and you should just step aside?  I know exactly how
you'd react. You'd throw him into the brig.  That's assuming the poor
bastard survived your wrath long enough to make it to the brig."

"I would not resort to physical violence."

"Really.  I have four words for you, Johnny.  Sir Guy of Gisborne,"
she huffed accusingly.  Seeing he was about to counter, she snapped
her fingers at him and added, "Sovak."

Closing his eyes for a long moment, he had to admit that she had a
point.  Kamala had maligned Vash in what was essentially her own home.
His wife had not actually done anything in reprisal except give Kamala
enough empathic rope to hang herself.  If their roles had been
reversed in the scenario she described, the brig would be a feasible
option.  Of course, officially the reason would be for disrupting the
ship's operation by intruding on the bridge.  Opening his eyes, he
risked glancing over at Vash.  She sat with her arms crossed over her
chest her expression daring him to challenge her again on this issue.
Even after their shared passion earlier, his throat began to ache with
longing at the sight of the fire that blazed in Vash's blue eyes.  Her
full breasts were pushed up and out by the delicate arms crossed below
them, an incredibly erotic pout.  She was so lovely and her challenges
always affected him like a powerful aphrodisiac.  Holding his hands
up, he capitulated. "I concede your point.  There is no question that
Kamala was way out of line.  Believe me, if I had had any indication
that she was going to confront you that way, I would have taken
measures to prevent it.  I have already admitted that I should have
warned you about her.  I must also give credit where credit is due to
you ladies - I'm sure you and Mrs.Troi weren't the only conspirators
involved here.  I just don't really want to know about anyone else  -
I'm very impressed with the beautiful simplicity, not to mention the
flawless execution of this rather Machiavellian plot.  Truce?"

"Truce."  As she nodded her agreement her expression softened.   With
an impish sparkle in her eye, she teased.  "Beautiful simplicity and
flawless execution of a rather Machiavellian plot.  I'll take that as
a compliment."

"As it was intended."  He delivered the expected retort with a deep
masculine chuckle. Gazing at her, his eyes drank in the features of
her beautiful face with her blue eyes, delicate cheek bones and full,
rose-petal lips.  Reaching out with one hand to gently stroke the
smooth skin of her cheek with the back of his fingers, his voice
became a soft, bedroom baritone.  "Je t' aime, Vash."

" Je t' aime," Vash replied quietly, flushing at the intensity of his
gaze and the warm timbre of his voice.   She tilted her head slightly
to lean into the tender caress.

Picard pulled her head down to settle her mouth over his in a deep,
passionate kiss.  As her soft, lush lips parted pliantly to his, he
could feel every muscle in his body tighten in fervent response. He
slipped his tongue past her lips to gently stroke and caress the warm,
moist cavern of her mouth.  His hand moved around to the back of her
head, entangling itself in her silky hair.

As her lips and tongue responded ardently to his, Vash's hands came up
to clutch his broad shoulders for balance.  The soft bedding gave way
beneath her as she laid back, Jean-Luc moving over her to  cover her
body with his own.  She could feel every inch of Jean-Luc's hard,
muscular form against her as he pressed her into the mattress.  She
moaned into his kiss, her body trembling from the warmth of his large
hands as they traveled down her neck and past her shoulders to skim
down the sides of her body.  Shivers of desire spread throughout her
body causing the crests of her breasts to harden, the stiff peaks
pressing up against the muscular wall of his chest.  When he finally
broke the kiss both of them were gasping for air.  As his hard length
pulsed against her inner thigh, her breathless whisper was tinged with
a hint of amusement.  "I thought you said this wouldn't work again
tonight."

"I lied," he quipped, his eyes traveling down the length of their
bodies before returning  to her face.  Giving her his characteristic
barely-there smile, he asked,  "So was it good to get a little of your
own back."

"Oh baby, not only was it good for me, but it was good for every
empath and telepath on the planet," Vash purred seductively arching
herself against him.  Before he could respond, she captured his lips
with hers in another searing kiss.

--

continued in the tenth story in the Reasons of The Heart universe 'Incendiary'