Dear Readers,
I am back after spending three years dealing with a 14 year old computer, lack of internet, and ongoing health issues. I have been writing. I just haven't been posting. But now that I have a new computer - I am going from Vista Basic to Windows 10 - I should be able to start uploading everything in the coming weeks. So if you notice any formatting problems, please let me know. It's been a long time since I have had to deal with the vagaries of posting stuff.
A.N. This is a stand-alone story that fits into the series "De-Tached: Life with Beverly". In that a/u, this story takes place six months after the birth of the Picard twins. Jean-Luc is the admiral who is the head of the Academy. Beverly is an admiral in charge of creating Starfleet's hospital fleet of starships.
It is not necessary for you to have read any of those "DE-TACHED: Life with Beverly" stories in order to make sense of what this one is. It is what the title implies - a 'pwp' lagniappe with just a little bit of plot thrown into the mix.
I am trying a bit of an experiment with this story. I am publishing two versions of it. One is adult (M) and the other is an edited gen audience version. This is the PG13 version. If you would prefer the more adult effort, look under 'mabb5' or search the "M" stories.
All the usual disclaimers apply. It's Paramount's property but fandom's playground.
And please, a review or two would be greatly appreciated.
Pleasures with Picard, the GEN Version
(PWP)
Chapter One
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Kick.
Snap.
Sizzle.
Twizzle.
Pose.
(Beat)
(Beat)
Hip thrust.
='/\'= ='/\'= ='/\'=
"Jean-Luc?"
"Yes, mon coeur?"
"Do you remember when we were on our honeymoon?"
He paused, and looked up from the book that had momentarily piqued his interest. There was something about Beverly's expression that instantly captured his attention. It took a nanosecond for him to decide that Beverly's question was of a serious enough nature that he had better place his detective Peter Wimsey novel aside and discover whatever it was that was troubling his wife. Carefully resting his open book on top of the Chippendale book table (so that the spine would not be broken) beside his navy velvet upholstered rolled arm chair in their bedroom, he then dutifully answered, "Yes, mon coeur?"
She stopped fussing over some pieces of clothing and dropped a chemise onto her side of their bed. "I said, 'do you remember our honeymoon'?"
Wondering if this was some sort of trick question though he could think of nothing that he might have recently done to rouse Beverly's sense of deviousness, he again dutifully answered, "Every memorable moment of it, mon coeur."
A soft smile crossed over her lips, beguiling her husband yet again with some of her more elusive, yet promising intentions. "That's not what I meant," she answered, even as she pointedly glanced down at their unmade bed, and then back over to his face before lowering her gaze - briefly - to his lap.
He felt the inkling of a flush breaking across his cheeks even as he viscerally responded to her sensual, knowing glance. He then understood that he had once again, momentarily forgotten how 'earthy' Beverly could be on occasion. His innate reserve still had to do battle with the day-to-day intimacies of living with Beverly as his wife. Never mind that he had just been sharing the pleasures of the nuptial bed with his wife, succumbing to them but yet half an hour earlier on this lazy Sunday morning. He still wasn't instinctively quite used to being in Beverly's presence most of the time in spite of the fact that their two year anniversary of when they had become lovers was almost three weeks away.
Beverly pulled her favorite turquoise embroidered silk robe about her, tightening the belt. Then she strolled over to the foot of the bed, moved aside some of the counterpane, and sat on its cerulean blue quilted edge, crossing her bare legs.
Slightly disappointed that he could no longer glimpse his beloved's body within the shadows of her long silk robe, Jean-Luc sat up more stiffly, and leaned forward, toward his wife. "What did you mean?"
"Oh, something about repeating certain activities of our honeymoon over and over again…"
"Lately, we've been repeating certain activities, quite a bit." He couldn't control the sense of masculine satisfaction that raced along his veins as he contemplated just how well and how often, they had been repeating them.
She understood his reaction even as frissons of lust spiked through her veins as well. "I know. But not quite." And before he could start asking questions, she added with a most loving smile, "And I am not complaining, my darling." She looked about their various shades of blue and cream bedroom with its Oriental rugs, and period style Morris wall papers for a moment before commenting, "Still, don't you think that our life is a bit too structured for us?"
He considered her words. "Between Anna and William, your job, my job, and the restrictions of life in Starfleet not to mention the onerous weight of being admirals, how can it be anything other than structured?" He shrugged. "It would not take much for our life together to descend into chaos if we did not have our plans, our routines and our schedules. We have to stick to them. Such is our life."
"Jean-Luc, between you and Mildred, you even have plans for contingency plans when our life does descend into chaos."
"But of course." He still couldn't see Beverly's point.
She audibly sighed, knowing that her husband was being a dense male at this moment. "Jean-Luc, don't you remember on our honeymoon that we swore that we would never let the routines of our lives completely overtake us to the point that we would forget how to be spontaneous?"
"Especially when it comes to sex," he wryly added as he recalled more than one incident of his wife's shameless impetuousness.
She sent him a telling glare before she displayed another amused smile. "Exactly. The time has come…"
This time, he pointedly gazed at her knotted belt, lingering at the shadowed gap of fabric by her thighs, before returning his eyes to his wife's face.
"Down, boy," she teased, even as she had to force her hand away from her robe's belt as she automatically responded to his silent suggestion before she had a chance to think about it. "We don't have time for that now. I'm meeting Lwaxana for brunch. The lady and I are making plans."
"Plans?" This time, his curiosity was aroused as he momentarily tamped aside his current inclinations.
"Risa." She knew that he would be bothered over her use of that planet's name, especially in conjunction with the Ambassadress from Betazed's name, though his outward appearance displayed no sign of his concern.
"Ri-sa?"
She affirmed his fears. "Risa. The Admiralty's conference on female gender issues and the possibility of feminine inequality in Starfleet, the Federation, the universe and beyond."
Beverly had said a mouthful. It took Jean-Luc a moment to process her words.
"When is this? And why would Lwaxana Troi-Wiley wish to be involved in such a symposium?" He suddenly shook his head, ruefully admitting, "Forget that I said that. Knowing Lwaxana, her definition of the word 'symposium' is the ancient one meaning that a symposium is a conference dedicated to drinking non-syntheholic beverages and the philosophical discussions of sex."
"The raunchier, the better," Beverly added. "Lwaxana has already ordered quite a few cases of Château Picard wine from Marie to be sent directly to Risa. Marie has sent me a message about it."
"No doubt Lwaxana is requesting that those cases of wine be complimentary?"
"I think that you know Holt's wife too well, Jean-Luc. Should I be jealous?" She waggled her naked toes with their Passionate Plum opalescent nail polish in his general direction to emphasize her words.
Jean-Luc's response to his wife's teasing was to swiftly rise, and stride over to her to grab her about the waist, pulling her backwards onto their bed. He followed her down, using the pressure of his body to keep her from moving away from underneath him.
She duly noted that she had aroused the 'savage beast', so that she was yet again impressed by his post-coital recovery time. The medical professional portion of her brain decided that her husband's physical fitness conditioning was definitely improving. He most unquestionably was succeeding in leaving his 'baby fat' from their shared pregnancy behind…
"Don't you think that I should be the one who is jealous since you are apparently planning a trip to Risa minus the presence of your loving husband?" he whispered into her right ear before his tongue stroked behind her lobe. Then he lightly bit her ear. "Especially before our anniversary?"
"What anniversary?" She knew she had another six months to go before their wedding anniversary.
Then her husband nipped another spot on her neck. "How could you forget?" he teased before he bit her ear.
"What?" she gasped even as she shivered under his touch. Her blood was heating now. Her body was beginning to insist on the succor that only this man could give her. She shifted in his arms to bring him closer.
"We'll have been lovers for two remarkable years," he murmured.
Beverly shivered before she pulled herself together enough so that she could coherently respond to her husband.
"The conference on Risa?" he too-casually mentioned again before he licked her ear again, pleased with the way her body trembled in response to this touch.
"I can bring a personal assistant to the Admiral's Conference. Care to be my 'personal assistant', Jean-Luc?" she purred. "Can you just drop everything and rearrange your schedule to go with me in two weeks? Risa would be a memorable place to celebrate our anniversary…"
Then, before he could actually consider her request much less give Beverly the response that she wanted, Beverly distracted him by demonstrating just how very well she now knew her husband; she knew just where to touch him as a prelude for more love making on this quiet Sunday.
Both were invitations that he would not refuse as he permitted Beverly to unfasten his khaki slacks. He mused, whilst he was still rational, that if there was one thing that he knew about Lwaxana Troi-Wiley, Beverly making love with her husband in the morning was a very acceptable excuse for Beverly being slightly late for her luncheon date with the ambassadress.
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Nuzzle.
Lick.
Bite.
Nibble.
Suck.
Kiss.
Nip.
(Beat)
Then nip again.
='/\'= ='/\'= ='/\'=
It was not that Admiral Jean-Luc Picard was an unreasonable man. He knew exactly whom it was that he had married. Beverly, with all of her glorious quirks, was the source of most of the aggravating, maddening, and/or exasperating feelings in his life. Most of the time, he relished every moment of it too.
But when she had called him aloud, her 'cabana boy' before dragging him into their quarters from which they never once emerged during the three day trip that it took to reach Risa from Earth on board the U.S.S. Mercer, he had thought that he'd been the only person to hear Beverly's new nickname for him. He was in error. Apparently Lwaxana Troi had overheard 'cabana boy' as well. And far be it for anyone to expect Lwaxana Troi-Wiley to practice discretion. As all the admirals were checking into their Risian ultra-luxury hotel, Jean-Luc distinctly heard Admiral Alynna Nechayev refer to Beverly's 'personal assistant' as her cabana boy.
Beverly was highly amused.
Jean-Luc was not.
So he had to get his revenge, if only to soothe a sorely-tried male ego. The moment they were alone in their luxury suite, he seduced his wife, indulging himself with a stroking tongue and hot, possessive kisses to the point where she was begging him. Then, Beverly was begging him to stop, for she could take no more as the orgasms kept coming, overwhelming everything else.
Giving his wife a slight respite as he settled himself more comfortably against her in their bed. Only when they were finally tired, did he raise his head, and look with determined satisfaction straight into Beverly's exasperated, exhausted expression.
"Why?" she gasped, even as she watched her husband. Though tired, she still felt desire. "Why?" as she moved to assist Jean-Luc with his lovemaking. For Jean-Luc had never been quite this ruthless before in their eternal war between the sexes.
"Ca-ba-na boy!" was his four syllable explanation before he vigorously met Beverly's welcoming albeit weary body.
She was so focused as to what he was doing to her as she decided to let him do the majority of the work when it came to this particular lovemaking session before she actually realized what he had said. Even as she was becoming absorbed in the way that her husband was kissing her and rousing her body one more time, "Oh, shit!" was Beverly's last coherent thought. Jean-Luc wasn't going to forget 'cabana boy'… Or forgive…
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He poked his recumbent wife in the ribs with his knobby elbow.
"Five more minutes," was her response as she rolled toward his warmth, suggestively draping a naked leg across his bare hip.
"You forgot to set your alarm."
"We're on Risa. I thought alarms were against the law, here," Beverly mumbled, as she tried to prove once again to Jean-Luc, that she was indeed 'insatiable'.
"You have a lecture in less than sixty minutes," he reminded her, as he did his best to ignore what his wife was trying to do to his body.
"Nobody is going to be there," she mumbled against the tempting flesh of her husband's chest.
"Beverly." He said her name with great amusement and exasperation. "You were the head of Starfleet Medical. You authored the unofficial bible on how to become a great CMO when you were on board the Enterprise. And now, you are the rear admiral in charge of the new Federation hospital fleet. Any way you examine your career, you are a doctor of considerable importance and influence. Someone is going to be there expecting to hear your speech."
"No, they are not. And especially not if they're really doctors." Her grin actually was lascivious as she contemplated where else on her husband's body she could nuzzle.
"Huh?" He was confused as well as bemused by what Beverly was now trying to do to him.
"Did you read the title of my so-called lecture?"
He had to admit that he hadn't paid attention to that detail. "Uh, no, mon coeur." And then he gasped, "Beverly!" He hadn't been expecting such a brazen, frontal assault at this stage of their mating game.
She lifted her head, deliberately letting her long burnished red hair tickle certain husbandly body parts with great success. "It's about the sexual repression of the female Amoebeae on Piraeus IV," she primly informed.
It took more than a few moments before Beverly's words registered in Jean-Luc's feverish brain.
"But the Amoebeae are asexual!" he complained before he suddenly comprehended what his wife had really done. She'd chosen a nonsense subject for her lecture. He glared down at her - the best that he could considering the pleasure she was bestowing upon him at this moment.
"Precisely my point, my darling. They don't have gender issues, much less sexual repressions," she announced before returning to soothing his masculinity - and then some.
"And the Admiralty planning committee approved the subject matter for this lecture?" Jean-Luc did not even think that any planning committee for a Risa convention would be this blatant.
Beverly raised her head, deciding that at this moment, Jean-Luc was just not that interested in what she had been doing to him. Clearly he would rather talk to her at this minute. Using a tone of voice that Jean-Luc did not normally associate with bedroom games, Beverly explained with just a hint of annoyance, "Actually, the planning committee gave me a whole list of titles of former lectures for this convention, to see what would appeal to me. The Amoebeae were on the list. They highly recommended this topic - especially since every convention for the past ten years has had the exact same title for the lecture that never was… It's a tradition, so to speak…"
Jean-Luc contemplated her words even as his wife was doing her best to arouse other interests for him. "Other than a shocking waste of Starfleet resources, is anything about this Risian convention actually legitimate?" For Jean-Luc Picard had really thought that the head of Starfleet, Fleet Admiral Winston Holt Wiley had only been jesting years ago when the admiral had described another similar annual admiral's conference on Risa that he had regularly attended. Apparently Risian 'faux-conventions' such as this one, were an admiralty tradition.
Beverly lifted her head even as she tried to quell her annoyance of her husband's tenacity. "Well, there is one lecture I might attend." Now, she had surprised him judging by the expression in his eyes.
"Do tell."
"It's about the admiralty and its attitude toward mothers who are also admirals. Not that we're going to do any in-depth discussion here on Risa. But it would be nice to know who is inclined to be sympathetic to the subject." Beverly then considered further distractions for her husband. "There's an unofficial poker tournament that is a tradition, too."
"Strip?"
"Possibly."
"Probably," he grumbled as he considered the nature of the planet which they were visiting.
"Certainly if Lwaxana plays," Beverly just had to wickedly add. She watched her husband blench. Suddenly her grin was rather knowing. "I've been told that spouses are not invited - but that cabana boys could be…"
He could only telegraph his outraged indignation with a single glare. Though Captain Riker would attend such a poker party with great enthusiasm, Jean-Luc Picard was not about to be the sole male in attendance regardless of the potential for nudity. Jean-Luc did not wish in the slightest, to see most of the admirals in attendance at the convention, naked. Besides, there was only one woman in the universe to whom he would grant permission to try and beat the pants off of him - and it was not Lwaxana…
Beverly chose to ignore his displeasure. She would be making it up to him momentarily. She mused with a rather sultry voice, "And then there is the cocktail party. It's mandatory that I attend with my personal assistant."
At this bit of news, Jean-Luc snorted. Loudly. "Will I be the only 'personal assistant' there?"
"Probably not since your invitation was addressed to 'Admiral' Picard. And if Lwaxana is to be believed, Holt will be showing up shortly."
Jean-Luc groaned again. His dismay was evident on his face even as he also finally began to realize that this conversation had distracted Beverly from what she had been doing to him but moments ago. This time, his groan held a decided note of frustration in it.
"Believe it or not, Holt won't make too much of a fuss. Lwaxana unfortunately told me her agenda for the man when he does finally show up." Beverly arched an eyebrow as she dutifully informed her husband of said agenda. "Apparently, Lwaxana's Phase is entering a rather strong, needy phase, so to speak. She thought that Holt being surrounded by doctors within easy call might help him survive should anything untoward happen during their marathon lovemaking sessions."
Jean-Luc moaned again. "That was something that I did not need to hear."
"Better Holt than you," Beverly opined.
"What?" Her words had startled him.
"With Lwaxana, I mean." Her grin was too-knowing as she recalled certain embarrassing incidents. "I may have officially ignored Lwaxana's little attempts to catch a husband or four on board the Enterprise, but that does not mean that I wasn't aware of the fact that the ambassadress was trying to get you naked every chance that she could." She stroked him to emphasize why she was glad that he was now naked and pliable, in her hands. "You were quite fortunate that she never caught you." Her grin broadened as she then informed her husband, "Though just because she is now married to Holt does not mean that she has stopped trying to trap you when you're naked."
Her words somewhat shocked him. Jean-Luc thought that no one else had ever noticed Lwaxana's ongoing relentless campaign to see him literally out of uniform.
Then Beverly returned to her unfinished task of bestowing on her husband his gratification, as he was left to briefly ponder the treacheries of life.
Later, all she could whisper was, "Happy Anniversary, darling."
='/\'= ='/\'= ='/\'=
Step.
Prance.
Step
Prance.
Hip thrust.
Pause.
Shimmy.
Shake.
='/\'= ='/\'= ='/\'=
Beverly arched an eyebrow as she studied her husband, standing in the sliding doorway that led to their very secluded, private lush tropical garden with its therapeutic hot waters, swimming pool and waterfall. This certainly was one of the most luxurious hotel suites in which she had ever resided. It was even more opulent than the suite that she had shared with Jean-Luc on their honeymoon, for this suite boasted its own private holodeck.
She duly noted his towel, and the novel that he was clutching in one hand. She also duly noted that her husband was one hundred percent naked. She wisely hid her smile as she considered what this could mean.
Jean-Luc took a step into the looming darkness of the suite.
"Went skinny dipping, eh?" was all that she asked.
"Last night was so enjoyable with you, that I thought that I would try it again. Swimming naked is a fond memory from my youth, too," He suddenly grinned like he was eighteen again as he took another step closer. "…especially when I became a teenager."
She correctly interpreted his expression. "Something tells me that there was a good reason that your father despaired of your behavior - especially when there were teenage girls around."
Jean-Luc decided that Beverly knew a wee bit too much about teenage boys and their skinny dipping activities. But then Jean-Luc considered that his bride had been the mother of a teen age son which he naively deduced was the source of all of her knowledge about such behavior. He was still puzzled though. "Somehow, I can't envision Wesley doing everything that I did in my youth."
"Neither can I," Beverly quickly agreed. "Though Wesley has gone skinny dipping in his past, I don't think that he has done it lately. Or rendezvoused with any skinny-dipping teenage girls that I know about, either," the mother added under her breath. "Worf and Geordie used to take Wesley swimming on board the Enterprise. Considering how shy Wesley was when he was younger, I was rather surprised to learn that Klingons swim in the nude. And that Wesley went anyway."
Jean-Luc mulled over her words. "I think that Worf was attempting to provide for Wesley a proper, suitable warrior role model for Wesley to emulate. Worf was always concerned about the influences upon the boy and sought to instruct Wes just as Sergei had often done for him when Worf was growing up." Jean-Luc recollected something else. "I once went swimming with Worf on the Klingon home world. It is not an experience that I wish to repeat." He then took another step closer to his wife, finally stepping out of the shadows and into the afternoon sunlight that was streaming through one panel of the floor to ceiling glass walls. "So, how was your lecture?"
"In spite of this being an enlightened era, men are still pigs when it comes to sharing the responsibilities of child rearing with their wives - even when the wife is an admiral." She still hid her amusement at her husband's now obvious condition even as he took another step closer to her. She was waiting for Jean-Luc to simply state what he wanted. Needed. But she also recognized that he was a stubborn cuss. Not to mention that it was difficult for him to confess to committing any personal foolishness, especially to his wife.
"Surely our preparations for our children are sufficient?" Concern filled his voice as he considered the possibility that maybe Beverly wasn't quite teasing him with her 'all men are pigs' attitude.
"No, darling. Not sufficient. Our arrangements for Will and Anna are excellent. But look at what it took to achieve such a state!" She waved her hand to silence his protests. "And yes, I know that the twins need exceptional care because of their abilities. But still, if it weren't for Ryllis, Guinan, Lwaxana, Mildred and Marie arranging matters, where would we be? More specifically, where would I be? I know where - I'd still be on maternity leave trying to cope with nary a consideration for my career or my duty. As well as being overwhelmingly grateful whenever Marie could baby-sit."
She watched him instinctively wince even as he sat down beside her and clasped her hand, lightly running his thumb over her palm.
"Beverly…"
"I'm not complaining. I know that I am a most fortunate woman because I married you. But still, there are many who just aren't that lucky."
He considered her words. "Then you'll just have to do something to improve a mother's lot when they are working on board the medical fleet ships, won't you?"
"I have a few ideas," she agreed. Then she leaned back to really inspect her still naked husband from head to toe. "Do let me guess. You went swimming, and then decided to sunbathe for a few minutes to dry off, didn't you?"
He hesitated before nodding his head. Sometimes Beverly just knew too damn much…
"You forgot to put on your sun screen, didn't you?"
"I was only going to rest for a few minutes," he sheepishly admitted.
"You fell asleep." Her words were not a question for she saw the visible proof of it all over the front of his body.
He nodded his head again.
Beverly stood, so Jean-Luc did likewise. She slapped his hip and watched him try not to wince. Then she visually examined all his red skin with a doctor's eye before she somewhat unsympathetically observed, "Pity you didn't use your book to cover your groin up… That's going to be 'fun' curing." This time she saw him instinctively, visibly wince. "Well then, I guess I'd better go get my dermal regenerator from my medical shore leave survival kit." She walked toward their bedroom, mumbling to herself. But what she said was distinctly loud enough for Jean-Luc to hear. "You should have dozed off under the cabana… cabana boy…"