In the Line of Duty
Chapter 5

Continued from Chapter 4:

"The warbird is now cloaking, sir," Data advised. "The shuttle is undamaged. The Eddings extended its shields in time."

"Lock your tractor beam on the shuttle, Data!" Riker ordered. "Pull them in as fast as you can."

"Locking tractor beam. Romulan warbird has cloaked. Readings indicate they are going to warp," Data reported.

Vash's heart was pounding and she felt as if her whole body was shaking. Afraid her knees would buckle under her, she slowly sat back down in her seat and took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Get that shuttle on board," Riker said.

"Yes sir. However, it will take three minutes. We will not be able to pursue the warbird."

The officer at tactical called to Riker. "Sir, the Eddings is hailing. It wants to know if it should pursue the warbird."

"Negative," Riker said. "We better keep our firepower together. Advise them to remain here."

"Aye, sir," the tactical officer replied.

"The warbird is out of the area," Data advised.

"Very well. You have the conn, Mr. Data," Riker said. He walked over to where Vash was sitting and briefly shared a look of mutual relief with her. Wordlessly, he extended his arm.

She took Riker's arm, gratefully, and let him lead her to the turbolift.

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

"Shuttle bay one" Riker directed the computer as the doors to the turbolift shut. He looked down at Vash. He could see that she was struggling to maintain the carefully composed mask she had been wearing for several days. He wondered how much longer she could keep her emotions bottled up. His communicator chirped.

"Bridge to Riker," Data's voice came over the communicator.

Vash let go of Riker's arm so he could respond to the hail.

Riker tapped his communicator, "Riker here, Go ahead, Data."

"The shuttle is safely aboard, sir," Data informed him. "Commander Worf estimates the level one security sweep will be completed in five minutes."

"Acknowledged, Riker out." He looked over to see Vash leaning against the wall. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her entire body was shivering. He could see that she was fighting to keep her composure. This time she wouldn't be able to stop it. "Halt." The turbolift came to an abrupt stop between decks.

"Why are we stopping, Will?" Vash tried to keep her voice steady, but she wasn't entirely successful.

"I just thought you might need a few minutes to let it all out," Riker said softly, knowing Vash hated for anyone to see her cry.

"I don't need to let anything out. I just want to see my husband. I want him to be okay and I want him back here with me. It was bad enough just knowing he was taking that kind of a foolish risk, but to see him like that . . . . in the hands of those Romulans. And then they fired on the shuttle and tried to kill him, oh Will, . . ." With that Vash burst into tears.

Riker took Vash into his arms to comfort her and whispered softly in her hair, "you have five minutes to not let any of this out before the captain will be expecting to see you."

After several minutes sobbing, Riker's words registered and she pulled back to gently hit him squarely in the chest. Wiping smudged mascara from her face she retorted, "All right, Commander Smartass, get this thing in gear."

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

As Beverly arrived with her medical team, Vash and Riker joined her outside shuttle bay one. The doors to the shuttle bay opened and they saw Ambassador Fontaine leaning against the hull of the shuttle. Over to one side, Deanna was being enveloped in a huge bear hug by a much-relieved Worf

Picard was wearily leaning in the doorway of the shuttle craft, looking expectantly at the door to the shuttle bay. He saw Vash standing between Riker and Beverly, calm and composed. He stepped down onto the deck just as Vash spotted him from the door. Seconds later, he was struggling to maintain his balance after his beautiful, composed wife ran across the shuttle bay and into his arms.

"It's all right, It's all over, I'm home now," he murmured into her hair as he felt her clutch him to her. He just held her tightly for several long moments. Then he pulled back slightly, searching for and finding those beautiful lips for a deep, passionate, homecoming kiss.

Finally, Vash pulled back to search his face. "Je t' amie," she said simply. Then tracing the cut over his left eye, she cried softly, "You' re hurt."

"It's nothing," he whispered reassuringly. Before she could protest further, he bent his head and kissed her once again.

"Would you like a second opinion, Dr. Picard?" came Dr. Crusher's gently reprimanding voice from over his shoulder.

Vash reluctantly stepped away, maintaining her grip on his upper arm. She laid her head on Jean-Luc's shoulder as Beverly scanned him with her medical tricorder.

Picard really hated medical examinations. Trying to distract himself, he glanced around the shuttle bay. Several security guards had surrounded the Romulan pilot. Riker was talking to Ambassador Fontaine, while a medic was running a medical scan of her. He was amused to note the medic trying to scan Deanna wasn't getting very far. The counselor's large Klingon husband refused to put her down. He looked back at his ship's chief medical officer, who was still busy scanning him. Wasn't she through yet? "Well, Doctor?" he asked a little more impatiently than he intended.

"There are no internal injuries. However, you are slightly anemic and suffering from exhaustion," Crusher answered running an autosuture over the cut above his eye. Then she pressed a hypospray into his shoulder. "This will take care of the anemia. I'm relieving you from duty for the next twenty-four hours. I want you to rest. No strenuous activity."

"I wasn't planning to run any marathons, Beverly," Picard huffed

"I'm serious, Jean-Luc." Beverly arched an eyebrow and looked at him meaningfully. After all, he couldn't be that dense. "Absolutely no strenuous activity."

He glanced over at Vash, who looked amused but slightly flushed. Instantly, he realized Crusher was ordering him to not make love to his wife. He felt that it really wasn't any of the good doctor's damn business. The tone of his voice turned firm, "Doctor," he stopped as a young medic approached.

"Doctor," the young medic sounded nervous. "I haven't been able to start my scan of Counselor Troi. Commander Worf won't put her down."

"It's okay, Tom," Crusher smiled at him. "I'll handle it. Why don't you check out the Romulan pilot."

"Thank you, Doctor." Tom sounded eternally grateful as he headed over to the pilot.

"Captain," Crusher started after the medic was out of earshot. "The only reason you're not spending the night in sickbay is that I trust your wife will make sure you follow my orders. Now, I have a Klingon to deal with." After patting Vash on the shoulder, she left Vash and Picard alone and made her way over to Troi and Worf.

"Aren't single people fun to watch," Vash whispered nodding toward where Riker stood, obviously flirting with Ambassador Fontaine.

"Uh-huh, I see him," Picard smiled and stepped back to admire his wife. That color of blue was always very flattering on her. "You look lovely. Any particular reason you're dressed up in one of your best suits?"

"For you, of course," she smiled and gazed up at him adoringly. "Will had promised me that I could talk to you when you contacted us from Qo'nos. We were waiting in your ready room for your message when everything broke loose."

"Well, that explains the suit and it explains why you were in the ready room." His look and tone was one of gentle exasperation. "However, young lady, would you care to explain how you managed to maneuver your way onto the actual bridge during a battle?"

Vash gave him her most innocent look. "Well, mon Capitaine, it's like this . . ."

Across the shuttle bay, Beverly Crusher gave Worf her best glare and used her sternest voice. "Put her down now, Commander!"

Worf reluctantly put Deanna down, growling at the interruption.

"Don't try that with me, Mr. Worf. You may be able to scare my tecs, but I'm not that easily intimidated. Growl all you want but put her down and let me run the scans. Then take her back to your quarters and let her rest for the next twenty-four hours." Beverly drew herself up to full height and flashed a defiant glare up at the scowling Klingon.

Elsewhere in the shuttle bay, Riker was supporting a weary Ambassador Fontaine while the medical technician ran the tricorder over her.

"You're all clear, Ambassador. Just get some rest and a good hot meal." The med tech snapped the tricorder shut, nodded to Riker and the Ambassador, and left the shuttle bay.

"Why don't you allow me to escort you back to your quarters? I can fix that hot meal for you while you take a shower and slip into something more comfortable." The "rescue-the-damsel-in-distress" routine came naturally to Riker.

Catherine thought briefly about all the things she'd like to do with Riker in her quarters and just didn't have the energy to make those fantasies a reality tonight. Reluctantly, she smiled up at the sexy first officer and replied, "no thanks, Commander. I think I can manage."

"I should at least escort you to your quarters," Riker insisted.

If he did that, she'd just want to drag him inside. No, better to just avoid temptation for the time being. "No really, Commander. I'm sure I will be fine on my own. Thank you for your concern."

Riker heaved a heavy sigh as he watched her walk out the door. Turning his attention back to his duties, he walked over to where Picard and Vash were continuing their reunion.

"Captain, good to have you back," Riker welcomed his commanding officer back with a brief handshake.

"Thank you, Number One." Picard's pride in his first officer was evident in his expression as well as his voice. "And, nicely done."

"Thank you, sir," Riker smiled. "Any orders?"

"Get someone from engineering up here to give this shuttle a thorough going-over. Confine that Romulan pilot to some quarters and post a security guard, and I'd like a full status report on the ship's activities while I was gone." Picard casually reached down and laced his fingers with Vash's.

"Yes, sir," Riker answered. "Mr. Barclay to shuttle bay one." Then he looked toward the group of security officers surrounding the Romulan. "Mr. Lar, will you join us for a moment?"

Lar made his way over to them. "You wanted to see me, Commander?" Lar asked Riker.

"Please confine the Romulan pilot to quarters," Riker ordered.

"Yes, sir," Lar answered, before heading back toward the Romulan.

Riker turned back to Picard. "Ship's logs have been completed and are ready for you. Will you be entering a log concerning your time aboard the Romulan ship, sir?" Riker was aware that Picard wouldn't want to discuss the details in front of Vash, but a full report on Picard's end of the incident would be needed soon for the report to Starfleet.

"Certainly, Number One. I have been ordered by the good doctor to rest for the next twenty-four hours; however I will attend to that first thing tomorrow. Inform Starfleet that the full report will be sent within forty-eight hours."

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

Vash walked contentedly next to her husband as they made their way to their quarters. Picard was discussing ship's business with Riker, who was walking along with them. Vash wasn't listening to what was being said, she simply relished the comforting sound of her husband's calm, deep, resonating voice. The total lack of his voice had been one of the strongest reminders of his absence. She was used to hearing it throughout the day; as he gave orders over the ship's comm, as they talked over meals, and as he recorded the ship's log each night before they went to bed. Before she realized it, they reached the door to their quarters. Riker smiled as he said goodnight and left for the bridge.

Vash preceded Picard as they entered their quarters. As Picard took a step in, he heard a meow and felt something tangle itself around his feet. He looked down to see Charcoal doing figure-eights around his ankles. He gently picked up the small black cat, scratched its head and looked over at his wife.

"She missed her Daddy," Vash gently teased him. Then sighing she added, "She drove me nuts, Jean-Luc. She prowled our quarters all night, every night looking for you."

"Indeed." Picard set the cat down. Charcoal made one more pass at both their ankles, then walked into the bedroom to curl up in her bed. Picard turned to Vash and took her in his arms his voice was tender. "I was more concerned about you."

"She paced in here, driving me nuts," Vash confessed, "And I, in turn, paced in your ready room driving Will nuts."

"From what I have heard, you handled the situation with great courage and grace." Seeing the self-doubt in her eyes, his tone was gentle but firm as he continued. "Of course, the very fact that Will Riker allowed you to stay on the bridge was enough to tell me that. If you had acted with anything less, Will would never have allowed you to stay."

Vash's blue eyes sparkled at her husband's praise and she slipped her arms around his neck giving him a slow, deep, passionate kiss. The coarse stubble of his three day old beard scratched against her soft, sensitive skin. Breaking the kiss she whispered, "Welcome home, Captain." She could feel the tension in the muscles of his neck and shoulders. She looked up into his bruised and battered face. Concern flooded her eyes as she suddenly realized that he must be exhausted. She stepped back and delicately traced the bruise on his cheek. Softly she asked, "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Really, I'm fine. It looks worse than it is. I just had a minor disagreement with one of my captors." Picard saw the concern in his wife's eyes. Trying to reassure her, he dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose as he joked, "I've been involved in barroom brawls where I was far more seriously injured. And those were the ones I won."

Vash sighed and shook her head with exasperation, men. At least he was home, safe and sound. She relaxed a little, "Still, you really should follow Bev's orders and rest. Why don't you take a shower and change out of your uniform? I'll have a cup of Earl Grey ready for you."

"That sounds perfect." Picard reached up to rub her hand against the stubble on his cheek, gently scratching the sensitive skin of her palm. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it, before heading off towards the bathroom.

Within ten minutes Picard stepped out of the bathroom, showered and shaved. He changed into a burgundy velvet smoking jacket with grey silk trim and matching grey silk pajama trousers. Vash had purchased the outfit for him. At the time she told him he needed to learn to relax and that he needed something to relax in. He had gotten out of the shower to find the outfit laid out neatly on the bed. This was his wife's way of telling him he was going to rest. He walked into the living room and over to the couch to sit down. Picking up his PADD from the coffee table, he leaned back into the couch and started to work on his report of the last couple of days. They may have won round one, but the trouble with the Romulans was far from over.

Vash turned from the replicator holding a cup of Earl Grey. She watched her husband silently for a moment. The smoking jacket's grey silk belt was tied tightly at the waist showing off Picard's perfect masculine shape. The dark, burgundy velvet accented the broad expanse of his shoulders and chest. The grey trim brought out the color of his eyes and the closely trimmed hair at his temples. The open V of the grey silk collar allowed for a tempting view of his chest. His muscles were still taut with tension, the result of his being a 'guest' of the Romulans. She walked over and set his tea down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Thank you, ma petite," Picard said without looking up. Vash thought his voice sounded strained.

"Would you like something to eat?" Vash asked. Still working on the PADD, Picard shook his head no in response. Vash gently laid her hand on one of his, the one which held the PADD. "Dr. Crusher relieved you for the next twenty-four hours. I think she meant for you to rest."

"I will," he finally looked up as he explained, "I just want to get a start on this report."

Vash knew she needed to limit this or he would work all night. The rest of the ship may have stood down from red alert status, but he certainly hadn't. They would arrive at the Klingon Home World soon and Klingon politics tended to get rough. He needed to rest. Doing her best imitation of his command voice, she said, "I'm going to change for bed. You have one half hour, Mr. Picard, then you are relieved of duty. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Picard chuckled at his wife's imitation of him. She had mimicked his tone perfectly. He watched as she walked into their bedroom and then he looked down at his PADD and started to write.

Thirty minutes or so later, Vash walked back into the living room to see her husband just as she had left him. She sighed and shook her head, this was going to take strong action. "Jean-Luc, are you coming to bed?" Picard muttered in response and continued working. "Jean-Luc, it's time to put it away. Your half hour is up."

"Yes dear. I'll be right there," Picard didn't even look up as he answered her. Vash knew that meant he hadn't even heard her.

Vash walked over to stand in front of her distracted husband. She reached out and gently cupped his chin in her hand and drew his gaze up from the PADD he was working on. "Jean-Luc, you need to get some sleep. It's time to go to bed now."

For the first time since Vash had entered the room, Picard noticed what she was wearing. She was wearing a black satin, floor-length peignoir set. The robe hung open, revealing the nightgown underneath. As she bent down to pick up the empty tea cup from the table, the thin straps and low neckline of the gown treated him to a breathtaking glimpse of the luscious cleavage underneath. Picard's eyes followed her as Vash walked across the room to put the cup into the replicator. He thought about how much he had missed her the last few days. He had slept very little while the Romulans held him captive. The rare times he had slept, he had dreamed about her. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw her, her delicate face, her silky brunette hair, her vivid blue eyes, not to mention every inch of her curvaceous silhouette. Most definitely bedtime. He put the PADD down that he was working on and got up to follow her.

"Are you hungry?" Vash inquired, as she heard Jean-Luc walk up behind her.

"Uh-huh," he uttered quietly from right behind her.

"What would you like?" Vash asked. Then her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand pushing her hair to one side exposing the delicate skin of her neck. He stood behind her and firmly grasped her hips, pulling them back against his own. She could feel his warm breath on her skin and him pressed against her back.

"You," Picard breathed huskily in her ear and he lowered his mouth to her neck.

Vash wanted nothing more than to surrender to her husband's advances; but, he was supposed to be resting. She knew that even a quickie was definitely against the doctor's orders. Damn. Well, someone had to be the responsible adult. Talk about your role reversals. She took a deep breath.

Pulling away slightly, she turned around to face him. His hands were again at her hips, she fought to keep the rising passion out of her voice. "Jean-Luc, We shouldn't. Bev said you . . ."

"I heard the good doctor," Picard whispered into her mouth, cutting her off as his lips covered hers in a deep, searching kiss. Her warm lips trembled slightly as his mouth settled over hers. Savoring the sweet taste of her kiss, he brought his hands up to her shoulders to slip the satin robe from her.

Her voice was husky, as she tried one last attempt at being the adult and murmured, "You need to rest."

"I need my wife." Picard whispered fervently.

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

"Worf, carrying me here from the shuttle bay was really not necessary. You can put me down now." Deanna knew her husband was feeling very protective of her at this moment, but he was carrying things just a bit too far, literally.

Worf gently set Deanna down and cupped her head in his hands. He searched her face, noting the marks of stress and fatigue with concern. "You look tired. Go in and take a bath. I'll fix something to eat."

Deanna covered his hands with hers and kissed his palms. "A nice, long, hot bubble bath sounds heavenly right now."

"You go on in and I'll bring you some hot chocolate in a minute." Worf forced himself to let go of her.

"You're going to spoil me tonight, aren't you?" Deanna arched an eyebrow and smiled at Worf. Lieutenant Commander Klingon Warrior was melting into Mr. Soft, Mushy, Teddy Bear right before her eyes. She massaged the back of her neck with one hand and stretched, "please don't let me stop you." She turned and headed for her bubble bath.

Worf put some soft music on and took her in her hot chocolate. Leaving his very relaxed wife in the tub, he went back out and pulled up the replicator menu to decide on dinner.

Clean and content, Deanna came out of the bedroom in a big, soft robe tied off at the waist. Her hair was down and she was carrying a brush. "Something smells good out here."

Walking over to Deanna, Worf took the brush out of her hand. Drawn by those full, luscious lips he had dreamed of so often in the past few nights, he closed his eyes and leaned down to brush a quick, soft kiss across them. Afraid this was only a vision to taunt him, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he opened his eyes and she was still there, smiling up at him. Worf led her over to the couch and carefully arranged the pillows around her before he placed a dinner tray on her lap. "Eat. I'll brush your hair." He filled his hands with her long, dark hair and buried his face in it for one brief second. Picking up the brush from where he had laid it, he began brushing out Deanna's hair

Deanna loved shrimp, but she was having trouble concentrating on them. Worf's nearness and the feel of his hands working their special magic in her hair were very distracting. Deanna smiled as she bit into a tender shrimp.

Worf drew the brush through Deanna's hair, following its trail with his hand. He closed his eyes and nuzzled the nape of her neck. He was trying not to think about how close he had come to losing her.

Deanna finished off the shrimp and set the plate on the coffee table. She leaned back into the muscular expanse of Worf's massive chest and sighed contentedly. "That felt so good. I missed you, I missed all of this." As she nestled cozily against his chest, her body instinctively became aware of Worf's overpowering masculinity. Deanna felt a familiar rush of desire course through her. She wiggled back a little further into the pair of strong arms that surrounded her, "I definitely missed something else."

"What's that?" Worf asked, holding her close.

"This." With that, Deanna turned around to sit on Worf's lap and pulled his head down to hers. She covered his lips with her own in a deep, passionate kiss that told him exactly what she had missed.

Worf responded briefly to her kiss before pulling away. "No. The doctor said you must rest tonight."

"The doctor isn't here," Deanna purred seductively, as she climbed up higher on Worf's chest to nuzzle the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Deliberately taunting him, she crushed her breasts against the solid wall of his chest.

Worf's eyes closed and he could feel temptation weakening him. His body ached to accept her sultry invitation. She wanted him ... he could ... if he was very gentle .. "NO!" Worf shouted, more at himself than Deanna. He resolutely pushed Deanna off of his lap to sit on the couch. "You've been through a lot in the last few days. You don't know what you're doing. You need to relax. Lay down and I'll give you a backrub."

"I have been through a lot, and a backrub is not what I need to relax. You're what I need and I know full well what I'm doing," she taunted, her voice low and husky. Dreams of this night had kept her going over the last few days, she wasn't about to give up so easily. She needed this so much.

Worf's body jerked involuntarily. Grabbing her hand, he gently but firmly led her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. "I said no. I'm going to give you a massage, you're going to relax and go to sleep, and then I'm going to be doing Mok'bara for the rest of the night to undo what you've done to me."

"I can think of a much better way to undo it that would relax both of us at the same time," Deanna coyly suggested, trying to turn over.

Worf closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and firmly held his wife in place. 'No, for the last time," his deep voice rumbled.

Damn, thought Deanna, silently whimpering in need. When she realized he was going to take her robe off, her hopes rose. All may not yet be lost.

Worf tenderly pulled her robe from her shoulders and groaned in frustration. Deanna had not put anything on underneath the robe. Deciding that, in his present condition, straddling her would not be a good idea, he knelt on the bed beside her. Pushing the heavy silk of her hair to one side, he began massaging the tension out of her shoulders.

Deanna almost purred at the sweet sensations he was creating. He was nursemaiding her out of concern, the same concern that would not allow him to .. .she could almost hear his voice in her head 'mate with her.' She closed her eyes and began planning how best to get Worf in a position where he couldn't say no.

Hearing her breathing slow, Worf placed a tender kiss on her shoulder and covered her with the comforter. He quickly changed into his workout clothes and went into the living room to do some serious Mok'bara. Now he really needed a tension-reliever. He would like to use one of his workout programs on the holodeck, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Deanna alone tonight.

After a hard workout, Worf showered and changed into his pajama bottoms. He stood beside the bed and looked down at Deanna, laying there so peacefully. Very carefully, he lifted the comforter and eased into the bed pulling Deanna into his arms. He knew he was only torturing himself, but after the last few days, he just needed to hold her. With his wife home and everything all right, he closed his eyes and, for the first time in almost a week, slept.

Worf jerked awake suddenly, unsure of what woke him. Then he realized that Deanna was gone. When he tried to sit up to see where she had gone, he discovered that he couldn't.

"Lights, low level," came a soft, seductive whisper from the foot of the bed.

Worf looked down and what he saw brought frustration and tension flooding back into his body. Deanna was standing at the foot of the bed in a very sheer, black lace bodystocking.

"I believe we were discussing tension-relievers," came Deanna's pointed opening.

Worf tried to sit up once again and when he couldn't, he looked up to see pink manacles chaining his wrists to the bed. He looked down at his wife in confusion. "What are these things?"

"A bargaining tool. You keep interrupting the discussion just when things begin to get interesting. Now things can get as interesting as we can make them without interruption." She moved to kneel beside Worf on the bed.

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

"Darling, I love having you back. I missed you so much. I love you. Don't you have some work to do in your toy room -- I mean your ready room?" Vash asked as sweetly as she could impatiently manage the following afternoon.

"I get the hint, you want the quarters to yourself for awhile. Should I set the replicator for chocolate overload before I go?" Picard was well aware of the weekly chocolatefest ritual.

"Good-bye, Jean-Luc. I'll see you later, much later." She shooed him out of the quarters before calling up the entire chocolate menu from the replicator.

As she was setting out the last of the chocolate, the door chime sounded the arrival of her cohorts in chocolate.

"Come on in," Vash called out. "Grab the spoons and whipped cream on your way over here."

Deanna, Beverly, and special guest Catherine Fontaine, entered the quarters and promptly armed themselves with spoon and whipped cream before heading over to the table.

"Where is Captain Picard?" Catherine asked, looking around semi-casually.

"He beat a hasty retreat," Beverly laughed as she began sampling her favorite chocolate concoction.

"And since it's just us girls, let's not beat around the bush. What's up with you and Will?" Deanna was dying of curiosity. As much as she loved seeing Will put in his place a time or two, even she was starting to feel sorry for him.

"Oh yeah, what is going on with you and 'Commander-Eternity-Never-Looked-So-Lovely'?" Vash grabbed her own spoon and whipped cream and settled in at the table.

"How do you know about that?" Catherine had thought that line rather smooth.

"Jean-Luc does a priceless imitation of some of Will's classic lines. Then, of course, Will tried that one with me when we first met. Boy was he surprised to find out who I was," Vash laughed at the memory of that first encounter with the handsome first officer.

"So, enough stalling. Give with the details." Beverly was busily working her way through the selections on the table.

"Well, it should definitely be against Starfleet regulations for a commanding officer to be that sexy in uniform, or out of it for that matter." Catherine raised one eyebrow suggestively as she took a big biteful of chocolate.

"I thought I told you to rest," Beverly jumped in.

"A girl can dream can't she," Catherine smiled.

"Of course, I recall telling all of the away team to rest. Could you possibly think up an explanation for that mark on your neck, Vash?" Beverly had just noticed the telltale bruise on Vash's throat.

"Um. . well, I fell," Vash replied hopefully.

"Isn't it fortunate that the captain's lips were there to catch you." Beverly wasn't buying it. "I told you he wasn't up to anything like that, Vash." Beverly shook her head in exasperation and reached for the double chocolate fudge brownies.

"Well, funny you should phrase it that way. He was quite up for it," Vash shrugged and held up two fingers staring down into the Death by Chocolate in front of her.

"Twice?" Beverly gasped. Taking a deep breath, she continued in her best reprimanding tone, "I trusted you to make sure that he rested."

"Jean-Luc had other ideas." Vash looked up at Beverly like the cat that swallowed the canary. "He really can be quite tenacious. You know that black peignoir set I used to have? Your exhausted, injured, weak, debilitated Captain Picard threw me to the floor right over there and ripped it from my body." Vash smiled as she heard the gasps of amazement from her cohorts. She figured if she was going down, there was no sense going alone. Why not blame it all on Jean-Luc? After all, what are husbands for?

"That's not the Picard Maneuver I remember studying at the university," Catherine commented dryly.

"No, I'm sure it's not." Vash looked over at Catherine and arched an eyebrow. "But, it's definitely the more memorable of the two."

"I don't doubt it," Catherine chuckled.

Beverly rolled her eyes and covered another brownie with a hefty dose of whipped cream, "Did anyone follow my instructions last night? Deanna, tell Vash how Worf let you rest all night last night."

Vash had already seen the same telltale mark on Deanna, just barely hidden by the neckline of her dress. "Yes, Deanna, do tell."

Deanna flushed and stared guiltily down into her chocolate, cherry, whipped cream sundae.

"Et tu, Brute, Deanna?" Beverly reached over to expose the hickey riding on Deanna's cleavage. "I see the next time I impose resting orders on anyone in this crew, I'll have to confine them to an isolation tank with a very large and well-armed security guard."

"Been there, done that," came Deanna's amused reply.

"How did you manage to find the energy? Will offered to escort me home last night, but I just didn't have the energy to do any more than just fantasize last night." Catherine was amazed at the stamina of the married couples.

"I tried to stop him, honest, Beverly," Vash attempted to defend herself to no avail.

"Yeah, right. You always wear a black satin peignoir set to bed," Beverly's slightly sarcastic comment held a hint of amusement.

"Well, in Worf's defense, he did try. But those satin-lined manacles I picked up on Risa on our last leave didn't give him much room to maneuver." Deanna didn't even try to hide the self-satisfied grin. "It wouldn't have taken so long except I didn't get the matching ankle manacles."

"Ooh, toys." That perked Vash's interest.

"Risa, huh? I'll definitely have to make a stop there, soon." That particular equipment sounded pretty useful to have around to Catherine.

"I wonder if we could get Jean-Luc to set course there anytime today?" Vash idly wondered out loud.

"I don't think Risa is on the way to the Klingon homeworld," Beverly pointed out.

"Bummer," came Vash's disappointed reply.

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

Early that evening, Picard smiled and silently leaned against the doorway of his bedroom. Unnoticed and amused, he watched as his wife, dressed only in a white satin chemise, stood in front of a closet completely filled with beautiful clothes.

"I have absolutely nothing to wear," Vash whined to herself as she stared into her closet.

"I always knew this moment would come," Picard's deep voice resonated from behind her. He just couldn't resist teasing her. "The part of your brain that controls your sense of fashion has totally seized up from sensory overload. You have so many clothes in there that the choices have totally overwhelmed you." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed directly behind her.

"Oh thank you, Captain Helpful," Vash chuckled with out turning around. "I guess I could wear this to Data's for poker." She reached in the closet and pulled out a red and white floral printed dress. She turned around and tossed the dress on the bed next to Picard. "What do you think?"

"Uh? Oh the dress is fine," he sounded distracted and his expression was one of loving concern. He stood up and reached out to her. Very gently, he traced the largest of several bluish-purple bruises on her neck with a finger. "Did I do this last night?" he asked very quietly then bent down to place a tender kiss on the spot. She closed her eyes and sighed as he gently kissed her neck.

"You sure did, Tiger," she answered contentedly, opening her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, standing up straight to look into her face.

"Good Lord, what for?" she asked putting her hands on her hips. In a voice that was amused but exasperated, she added, "Jean-Luc, it's a hickey. Granted, I haven't had one this impressive since I was about nineteen."

"I have never considered leaving any type of mark on a lady," he answered. "It shouldn't have happened, and if I had exercised some self-control, it wouldn't have happened."

"First of all, if you're worried that you hurt me last night. You didn't," Vash said gently as she brought her hands up, splaying them across his chest.

"Second," she looked up suggestively at him as she began to run her hands over the front of his uniform. With one finger she slowly traced around his communicator and her voice took on a much more playful tone. "I think it bothers you that you lost that legendary composure of yours and that I'm walking around with the physical proof. You're worried that last night the cool, calm, collected Captain Jean-Luc Picard, turned into a magnificent pagan beast. Well, you did. Live with it."

"Magnificent what?" Picard blinked in shock at his wife. Vash's whole face seemed to light up with delight and she giggled at the stunned expression on his face. Quickly recovering, he sighed, "No, on second thought, please don't; however, would you care to explain why you've been in such an elated mood all day?"

"Just you being here, safe and sound, isn't enough?" she asked as she continued to play with his uniform. Her nimble fingers were now exploring the rank pips on his collar.

"That doesn't explain the somewhat frisky nature of your mood," Picard replied, trying to ignore the sensations caused by her delicate hands.

"Truth?" Vash offered as she moved in a little closer.

"Please," he coaxed, not exactly certain he wanted to hear this.

"Last night you fulfilled my favorite fantasy," she confided, not able to keep the desire out of her voice. "You're always the consummate starship captain; strong, confident, determined, and completely in control of yourself. I often imagine that you're so overcome by lust for me that you can't control yourself."

"I thought you proved, quite effectively I might add, that you could provoke me to that at will." What Picard didn't add was that she was doing it again. That chemise covered very little. What it did cover, it covered very provocatively.

"I proved I could get your attention and that I could tell when you were aroused," Vash corrected him, her hands still moving over his chest and shoulders. "That is quite different from you, in unbridled passion, losing control and throwing us both to the floor so that you could have your way with me." She nuzzled Picard's throat, placing little kisses on the sensitive area just beneath his ear. "Last night was incredible. The way you tore that nightgown was beyond anything I could have come up with, even in my wildest fantasies."

"I should have been more careful," he replied. "I'd never forgive myself if I . . ."

Vash put her hand over his mouth to cut him off. "I didn't want you to be careful. Stop feeling guilty about something we both enjoyed and both wanted. Besides, we both know I've got plenty of nightgowns." Then she removed her hand from his mouth and cupped his strong jaw in her hand. "I'm not some little porcelain doll that will break at the slightest touch."

"You are to me." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, gentle kiss. Breaking the kiss, he whispered, "I love you. I want to protect you. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No, not at all," Vash whispered back, smiling "It's wonderful and I love you. But every once in awhile, when I'm alone with you, I need to climb off of that pedestal."

"I don't think that's possible," he gently shook his head and smiled down at her.

"Now that sounded like a challenge. I think it's time to remind you just how talented your little 'porcelain doll' really is," she cooed seductively as she looked up with a devilish gleam in her eyes.

Picard tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer. His last coherent thought as he closed his eyes and groaned was that they were definitely going to be late for poker tonight.

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

"Captain, Vash," Data looked up as Picard and Vash walked into his quarters. "We were not certain if you were coming?"

"Oh, we were coming," Vash giggled, as she headed toward the card table and the empty chair next to Data's.

"What's the game?" the captain asked. Holding Vash's chair for her, he pointedly did not respond to her comment, then he sat himself in the chair next to her.

"Five-card draw, nothing wild, sir," Riker informed him. The first officer was barely able to drag his eyes away from Catherine, who was sitting across the table from him making a small adjustment to her very form-fitting, white jumpsuit. He took the cards from Beverly and began to expertly shuffle the deck.

"So, Catherine, are you here for the scintillating conversation or just another donation from the Bank of Will?" Deanna teased Riker knowingly. She smiled up at Riker sitting next to her.

"Both," came Fontaine's succinct reply as she leered at the first officer tauntingly.

"Everybody ante up," Riker said quickly.

After tossing her chips into the center of the table, Vash walked over to get herself and Picard each a drink, she felt that it was the least she could do for her husband. As Picard watched her approach the table, he was drawn by the way the delicate material of her red and white floral dress fluttered with each step.

Sitting on other side of Picard, Crusher was at a perfect vantage point to notice the captain studying his wife instead of his cards. She leaned into him to softly whisper, "Admiring your handiwork?

Picard turned and gave her a confused look. With a knowing smile, Beverly reached up and rubbed her neck. He hastily began to study his cards.

"What's the bet?" Vash set Picard's drink in front of him and settled into her seat to glance quickly at her cards.

"Two of his little red chips should do it," Riker answered, gesturing to the captain's pile of chips.

Vash threw two of Picard's red chips into the pile. She looked up at him impishly and cooed, "Are you up for it?"

"Always," Picard retorted, reaching over to her pile of chips to toss in the requisite amount.

"I'm in," Beverly threw in her chips.

"Just out of morbid curiosity," Catherine wondered to no one in particular, "who is driving the bus?"

"I'm in," Riker said as Deanna shook her head no and laid her cards down.

"Geordi relieved me seventy-three minutes ago," Data responded. Worf grunted and threw his chips into the pile. Catherine and Data quickly followed suit.

Some time later, Picard was holding his best poker face in a vain attempt to win a pot from his wife. "Take it," he finally sighed to Vash. It was the second time that night that she had called his bluff. Dryly, he added, "You have everything else anyway."

"Now, Jean-Luc, you know the definition of ownership in this marriage," Vash teased as she added the chips to her pile. "What's mine is mine and what's yours is mine. It's an archaic and sexist double standard and I intend to milk it for all it's worth."

"Works for me," came Deanna's amused reply.

"Forgive me, Counselor," Picard retorted, "if I don't act surprised."

"Which of you was married first?" Catherine turned to ask Vash.

"Well, that all depends on how you look at it," Vash explained. "Nothing with this crowd is simple. Worf and Deanna were Klingon mates first. However, Jean-Luc and I were married on Earth before they were married on Betazed."

Riker looked up with a glint in his eyes. He had waited all week to get even with the captain for the 'Minuet' comment made at the last game, and here was the perfect opening. He exchanged an evil grin with Vash and chuckled, "I'm still not exactly certain which ceremony had him more nervous."

Fontaine looked at Picard questioningly, "I would think being the groom would be far more nerve-racking then performing the ceremony."

Before Picard could respond, Deanna spoke for him as she got up to get herself a drink from the replicator. "He didn't perform our ceremony. He gave me away."

"I still don't quite get it." Catherine still looked confused.

"It was the first time Jean-Luc had ever seen one of his officers..." Vash gave her husband a loving but amused look. "How did you put? In the all-together?"

"That's right." Fontaine now understood. "Betazoid weddings are traditionally nude."

"I was very honored by my roles in both weddings," Picard said diplomatically trying to salvage the situation. Then he added in his most suave tone, "Vash and Deanna both made exceptionally lovely brides. Now, can we just play cards please?"

As she passed behind him on her way back to her seat, Deanna patted the captain's shoulder affectionately. Doing her best imitation of him, she teased him with his own phrase, "Nicely done."

Watching Worf shuffle the deck, Picard said dryly, "Oh, thank you. Did someone declare this pick on the captain night."

"Well, you know it wasn't me," Beverly chimed in good-naturedly. Looking at Deanna and then Picard, she continued, "I'm just the CMO, no one listens to my orders anyway."

Several hours later, Riker looked down at his diminutive pile of chips as Data dealt the cards. It had not been one of his better nights. "This will probably be my last hand for this evening."

"This will probably be the last hand for everyone," Beverly added, stretching.

"Dealer folds," stated a slightly dejected Data.

Vash, Beverly, and Deanna exchanged glances. If Catherine was going to make her move it was now or never. Laying down her cards, Vash echoed Data, "I'm out, too."

Picard tossed in his chips. Beverly didn't even look at her cards before announcing, "I'm out."

Riker looked at his cards. His poker face in place, he tossed in a few of his chips, "I'm in."

Deanna glanced once at her cards and then up at Vash and Beverly. She shook her long hair negatively and laid her cards on the table. 'FOLD' Deanna thought to Worf. He looked over at her. She gave him her most innocent look and thought to him again 'FOLD!'

"I fold." Worf laid down his cards. Then he sent a grumbled thought to Deanna, 'Happy now?'

'Yes, dear. Thank you,' Deanna's voice sang sweetly in his head.

"I'm in." Catherine took a few chips from her huge pile, most of which had been Riker's, and threw them into the center.

Vash glanced at Picard, who seemed to be contemplating his cards. She gave her husband a swift kick under the table. He looked up from his cards and over at her. She looked back at him meaningfully, folding her hands over her cards on the table. With a glance he realized that, except Catherine and Riker, everyone had folded. He got the hint.

"I fold," Picard sighed. Vash took the last sip of her drink and set the empty glass down. With a small yawn, she leaned against him and discreetly patted his knee with approval. 'Yes dear,' Picard thought to himself, slightly disgruntled, 'I was a good boy.'

Riker tossed a few more chips into the pile. He looked across the table to meet Catherine's gaze. Her eyes never left his as she tossed in her own chips.

"Well, William," Catherine noted with a small smile. "It looks like it's just you and me.

Vash snuggled closer to Picard as he draped one arm over the back of her chair. Laying her head on his shoulder, she whispered so only he could hear, "The cast has been made. Now, is the fish biting?"

"Looks that way," Riker answered Catherine. He tossed in his last two chips. "I see your bet and I'll raise you."

"He's sniffing at the bait," Vash reported quietly to Picard.

"Raise me? In case it has escaped your notice, Will, you're out of chips," Catherine countered with an arched eyebrow.

"If I win this hand, you agree to have dinner with me," Riker challenged. Wondering to himself, 'Do her eyes have to be such a beautiful shade of emerald green?'

"He's giving the bait a nibble," Vash continued with her commentary.

"And, if I win?" Catherine asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Lady's choice," Riker answered, his blue eyes sparkling with their usual bravado. After all, he had a damn good hand.

"And he swallows it hook, line, and sinker!" Vash whispered triumphantly to Picard.

Closing his eyes briefly, Picard shook his head at the younger man's folly. He was going to have to have a talk with Will. You never give that kind of leverage to a woman, especially a beautiful woman. He looked down at Vash. It had been his experience that they were more than capable of taking it on their own.

"You're on," Catherine accepted the challenge, with a regal toss of her hair. "Let's see your cards, Ace."

"And she reels him in!" came Vash's triumphant conclusion to her play-by-play commentary.

"A full house," Riker grinned as he laid out his cards.

"How long till your next shift?" Catherine asked.

"Nine hours," Riker answered, quite pleased with himself.

"That should be enough time." Catherine looked down and laid out her cards. Riker's jaw dropped as he saw her hand, a royal flush.

"Well-played, Ambassador. I guess it's time to pay up. What does the lady choose as her winnings?" came Riker's disappointed response.

"You," she shot him a carefully appraising glance then looked over at Picard and smiled. "Captain, I have just won the services of your first officer for the next eight hours. I would consider it a personal favor if there were no red alerts called during that time."

Vash thought the stunned look on Riker's face was priceless. Quickly, she turned her face into Picard's chest and tried to suppress her giggles as she whispered to him, "He's now the catch of the day."

"I think I can manage to arrange a quiet night," Picard assured the Ambassador with an amused smile.

"Thank you, Captain. Goodnight everyone." With that Catherine rose from her chair. She walked over and patted Riker on the shoulder. "Come along, Commander."

Still stunned, Riker got up and followed Fontaine out of Data's quarters. The last thing he heard before the door shut behind him was the captain's suspiciously amused-sounding, "Goodnight, Number One."

As soon as the door shut behind the two of them, Vash, Beverly and Deanna burst out in laughter. Vash laid back across Picard's lap, giggling so hard that tears rolled down her face.

Both Deanna and Beverly had collapsed onto the table, giggling.

"Ladies," Picard implored all three of them, as he gently sat his wife upright. "I realize that was amusing..."

"Actually," Data interjected, chuckling. "It was damned funny."

"Data," Picard looked at his second officer. "You're not helping."

"It was humorous," Worf admitted as Deanna leaned against him trying to catch her breath.

"Did you see his face?" Still giggling, Vash asked as she wiped tears from her eyes. Deanna could only nod.

"He looked like a deer caught in a spotlight," Beverly choked out between giggles.

"And on that note," Picard stood up and helped Vash out of her chair. "I think we'll just say goodnight.'

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

"Well, that certainly was entertaining," Vash giggled to Picard in the privacy of the turbolift after the doors had closed. Leaning against the wall of the lift, she added with admiration, "I'll have to hand it to Catherine. That was a well-planned and well-executed ambush, one worthy of myself."

"Vash, I don't think the Ambassador, or you, for that matter, could have planned that," Picard lamented with amused exasperation.

"Of course she did, Jean-Luc," Vash countered with a small, knowing smile. "As for me, are you about to tell me that you helping me look for the Tox Uthat on Risa had nothing to do with the skimpy, little, bronze swimsuit I just happened to be wearing at the time?"

"I've been a married man long enough to know there is no safe answer to that question," he noted dryly. Although not the deciding factor, the sight of Vash in that swimsuit had played into the decision. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to admit that to her.

"And, just like his sexy commanding officer," she continued with a seductive wink, "Will walked right into it, completely confident and clueless. I'll bet you a bottle of my favorite perfume against a bottle of Aldeberan whiskey that by morning there will be nothing left of your first officer but his brass and a smile."

"You're on," he winked back as he accepted the challenge. Reaching out, he traced the high neckline of her red and white floral dress. "You look wonderful in this dress. And I must admit, I was grateful that you choose a dress with a discreetly high neckline." With a sigh he added. "However, it was obvious Dr. Crusher was already aware of certain facts."

"Bev saw it this afternoon," Vash explained with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "I tried, Jean-Luc. I told her I fell."

"And?"

"She said it was a good thing your lips were there to catch me," she giggled, it was a great line.

"I'm not amused," he replied succinctly.

"Oh well, I was," she confessed, still laughing. "It was clear Bev wasn't buying it. So, I told her what happened."

"You what?" Picard gasped.

"What was I supposed to say?" Vash's blue eyes sparkled as she gave him her most innocent look.

"I don't suppose that, during these chocolatefests, you would consider leaving me with just a little of the dignity due to a starship captain?" he complained wearily.

"Ummmm, no." Vash at least pretended to think it over for a second. "To me you're just another 'Why?' chromosome. Besides, Catherine seemed very impressed. She said that wasn't the Picard Maneuver she'd heard of."

"I don't believe this," he groaned as he tugged at the waist of his uniform jacket.

"Okay, so I implied that you're great in bed, or on the floor, as the case may be." Vash wore a grin of unholy glee as she watched him make that habitual adjustment to his uniform. It was so fun to torture him. "It's not as if I told them that the man they are trusting to get them to Qo'nos can't seem to remember our exact location on a semiregular basis."

"Ouch," he exclaimed with feigned insult. "That, my darling wife, was below the belt."

"Don't feel too bad." Vash seemed insufferably pleased with herself. "We weren't the only ones disobeying Doctor's orders. Deanna and Worf made you and I look absolutely angelic." She paused a moment and added, with an arched eyebrow and a come-hither look, "it seems toys were involved."

"I really, really don't want to go there," Picard sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He knew it was hopeless, however. Vash was on a roll, and there would be no stopping her.

Moving to stand next to him, she took hold of his muscular upper arm with both hands. With her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him through her lashes. Her small hands caressed the steely bulge of his upper arm as she cooed seductively at him. "Oh but I really, really need to take you there. The toys in question were pink, satin-lined manacles."

"I don't, for one minute, believe Worf would do that to Deanna after what she had just been through," he asserted as he turned his head to look down at her.

"I never said anything about Deanna being the one chained to the bed," Vash purred impishly, giving him a playful swat on the seat of his pants before she walked out the opening turbolift doors.

"I just can't believe the things you women will tell each other over a couple pieces of chocolate," Picard muttered to himself in total disbelief as he followed his wife out of the turbolift. He had the sinking feeling that he would be buying a very expensive bottle of perfume at the next starbase.

TBC