THE SKY'S THE LIMIT

by mabb5

This is the GEN version of my adult novel, THE SKY'S THE LIMIT which was originally published on fanfic as "M". It is the sequel to the gen novel that I recently published called THE BEST LAID PLANS. In this novel, Jean-Luc is trying to solve the problems of the universe, marry Beverly and help all of his former senior officers find their own places in the universe.

2. Chapter 2 Big Boys, Babies And Jellico

A.N.: And then Q shows up, though Guinan tries to bring him under control. Along the way Laren and Tom get to know each other. Will finally gets the big chair, and meets Wesley's bride.

I can already hear the groaning. You think that this novel is going to descend into baby fic. There's nothing wrong with good baby fic now and then. But in THE SKY'S THE LIMIT, well, the babies are actually part of the plot. In one of the later chapters there is about 5 lines of ga-ga-gooing. By Data. But that's it. No too-cute dialogue. No pregnancy clichés. No saving the universe by a five-year-old - after all, saving the universe is Picard's occupation…

THE SKY'S THE LIMIT Part 2

"Big Boys, Babies and Jellico…"

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Mother?"

Beverly was napping in the shade of a tree, near a bank of heather. She'd been dreaming about babies.

"Mom?"

She opened her eyes. And then they filled with tears. "Wesley!" she whispered.

He hugged her and hugged her. Then he stepped back. She went after him and hugged him again.

"Let me look at you!"

And that was when she noticed that he was wearing a Starfleet uniform. Along with a set of pips proclaiming him to be a Lieutenant, Commander.

She could barely grasp the reality of it. "Starfleet?"

"You could say I'm back with a vengeance, Mother." He grinned like a little boy with a lot of big secrets.

"But what? How? And why didn't you tell me!"

He grasped his mother's hand, and tugged her toward the cottage. "Let's fix something to eat. I need to keep my strength up, with all that I have to tell you." He paused to look about the garden. "It hasn't changed much, has it."

"No, Mrs. MacPherson and Nana's friends have been helping to keep this place up, when I am not here."

"When I was a little kid, I really wanted to stay here with Nana."

"I know, Wesley. But Nana and I both agreed that you needed to see the universe. And I just couldn't bear the thought of leaving you behind, even if it was in the safe keeping of Nana."

They walked into the cottage together.

"There's plenty to eat. Guinan's been cooking."

"She told me."

Beverly tried not to get her feelings ruffled at the thought that Wes had been in contact with Guinan, but not with his own mother.

He motioned toward the alcove table. "I'll get something for us to eat, Mom." He could tell by the expression on her face that she was surprised that he'd volunteered. "Tau Alpha taught me a lot when I was with him." He moved about the kitchen as if he actually knew what he was doing. He made a mixed greens salad, and chopped up some toasted bread as croutons. Then Wes sat down next to his mother as he waited for the tea kettle and the soup to heat up.

He could tell by the expression on her face that she was surprised. "I can be self-sufficient."

"What other things did the Traveler teach?"

"I'm not quite human," was not what Beverly expected to hear.

"He's more than human," a voice from the doorway, contradicted. Both looked at the speaker.

Guinan walked into the kitchen, and nodded at Beverly. "I've been keeping track of the Boy whenever I could, during his travels. Tau is a pure scientist and part-time philosopher. He'd sometime forget that Wesley needed to be reminded of his humanity, now and then."

"Wesley, of course you're human."

"He's human and then something else," Guinan interjected. "His temporal manipulating abilities put him on an equal plane with a few other beings in the universe. Including the Q."

Beverly opened her mouth to protest this character assassination.

Wes spoke up. "You could say I am sort of a distant cousin to the Q, Mom."

"You're nothing like Q!"

"I was gone a very long time, Mom. Actually, centuries. I've learned a bit."

Beverly could only look at him with incredulity. "Centuries?" she mouthed.

"And he doesn't look a day over twenty-five," Guinan commented.

Beverly ignored her.

"Now I'm back, Mom. I rejoined Star Fleet four months ago."

"You could say he sort of aced the exams," Guinan added. "Number one in everything, and I do mean everything."

"Yet, you didn't come to see me? Call me?" Beverly couldn't completely disguise her hurt feelings.

"I couldn't. Once Starfleet understood my uh, special areas of expertise, they put me to work right away. I wasn't allowed to contact you. Plus, I, uh, picked up a few more degrees. I'm a professor now, at both the Daystrom and the Academy."

"And you were rather busy, Beverly, what with the ship crashing, your four pips, Jean-Luc and all that…"

Beverly glared at Guinan. None of this was an acceptable excuse for not contacting his mother.

"Mother, when I first came back, I wasn't sure that I would be staying. If I had decided to leave, then I would have come to see you sooner. But once I discerned my destiny's path, I had to wait until the proper time for me to tell you."

Guinan butted in. "We'd better let your Mother eat something before you tell her everything, Wes."

"More?" Beverly was in danger of being overwhelmed.

"Lot's more," Guinan archly replied.

They laughed together as they ate the chicken dumpling soup. For Wesley started telling her about the some of the places he'd been, and the predicaments that had ensnared him, in galaxies so very far, far away. And how much he'd enjoyed the explorative life he had led.

But eventually, Beverly put down her Nana's Crown Derby antique bone china teacup. In the "Old Imari" pattern. "Tell me the rest, Wesley."

He cleared his throat before he explained, "I'm a Traveler, too, Mother - sort of a temporal agent. I am here to understand. I will teach. I'll observe. But I can't really change the way of the universe, Mother. I've come home because it is time for me to do so. There are things that I can only learn here." Great warmth filled the smile that he gave his mother. "It's time for me to get to know my Mother through the eyes of an adult. And as a Starship captain. I am very proud of you, Mom."

"It's only temporary, Wes. I've spent the past month supervising the repairs to the Barton. And taking care of the wounded. I'm beginning to realize that even though I can ably do both, I am a doctor first, and an officer, second. I shouldn't be a captain of a starship."

Instead of protesting this assessment Wesley accepted her decision. "You know what's best for you. Are you going to return to the Barton?"

"I'm on leave for at least two weeks. I am needed there, but there are other issues. I probably will return. I really haven't decided yet."

Wesley carefully remarked, "Captain Picard's defection to the Maquis is one of the major topics of conversation at the Academy."

"Wesley…" She didn't know how to ask him directly about his opinion of Picard's actions since her son was now an active Starfleet officer.

Wes offered her an understanding smile. "Don't think for a moment that I believe Captain Picard is a traitor, Mother. And I will do everything I can to help him. And you." He looked at Guinan as if to ask permission to proceed. She didn't move a muscle. Taking a deep breath, hoping that one day his mother would really understand, he continued. "But I cannot change the time line. What was, was, is and ever must be."

Beverly didn't quite grasp what he was telling her.

Guinan offered another explanation. "People like Wes and me, we can influence. We can guide. We can even shoot a phaser now and then. But we cannot overtly interfere. That's why I was a barkeep on board the Enterprise, and not a line officer. Picard could heed my advice, but he didn't have to follow it, and I couldn't force him to do so." She glanced over at Wesley. "Wes, on the other hand, was destined to become a Starfleet officer. He doesn't break any of the rules now that he has become one. He's doing what he's supposed to do."

"I don't want this kind of life for you, Wes. I actually liked the idea that you were wandering the universe, following that different drummer, searching for your own universal truths. How did all of this happen?"

Wes glanced over to Guinan. She imperceptibly nodded. Guinan spoke now.

"You could say that Wesley's brain is a bit more advanced than mere mortals, Beverly. One of those evolutionary leaps that happens every now and then. Whenever my kind encounters such a being, we try to help them, to train them to cope. Believe me, being too smart with powers that they don't comprehend or control, can drive one mad. I didn't want that to happen to Wes."

"Mother, Q was the one that found me. He sensed what I was when we first met him at Farpoint. He's the one that sent for Tau Alphan, The Traveler."

"And for me," Guinan added. "It just took me a little while to get to the Enterprise. Your joining the Enterprise was the best thing you could have ever done for your son, Beverly. It was the perfect environment for his growth, and with the right people to teach him."

"And now I'm back, Mom. Human again. And I'll stay that way for a very long while to come, too." Wesley clasped his Mother's hand. "I'm going to be living a more normal life now, Mom."

She was trying to grasp the exact details of what her son had become. "What are you when you're not human?"

"Usually I move about as pure energy. Fluctuating temporal changes causes serious damage to any solid flesh that moves through it."

"Are you immortal?"

"No. As long as I am in human form, I can die."

"Will you live a normal life span?" She wasn't quite sure what she made of all this.

"Normal?" Guinan snorted. "I've been trying to define normal for a very long time. Haven't managed to do it yet."

Wesley added, "Actually, there's something really human that I've done lately."

"I'll say," Guinan mumbled under her breath.

"What?"

"I'm married to Robin Lefler. We eloped three weeks ago."

Beverly didn't see that one coming.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Picard…"

"Yes, Chancellor…"

"Do you think the Suliban are behind this treachery?"

Picard mulled Gowron's words. "It's possible. But not by themselves." He finished off his purple wine.

"My gut tells me Romulans." Then Gowron belched.

Picard considered it, as he ignored the noises his host made. He was becoming rather used to Klingon etiquette. "I think it's an alliance between several factions. Romulans, Suliban, Cardassians, and the Federation."

"Not the Maquis?"

"No. I think they're unwitting players in this mess. They are being used. All they want is to make homes for themselves. Their agendas are pretty straightforward. But every other bloc has differing agendas."

"What are you going to do?"

"I must prove where the torpedoes are coming from. Trace them back to the source. And then find out who ordered their making in the first place."

"And you don't suspect me?"

"Ghobe'." Picard smiled. "Gowron, I have come to greatly appreciate Klingon honor. I wish there was more of your kind of honor in the universe."

Gowron roared his approval. "Picard, if we can't clear your name, I will defend you to the death."

"Not that far, Gowron. I will accept my fate, whatever it may be."

"Bllughbe'! Fight for the fate you want, Picard." He pondered Picard's predicament for a moment, then magnanimously offered, "I own several planets. There's one place you might like. I make wine and beer there. A planet called Aleta. You could live there with your Bajoran. Mate. Grow grapes. Make wine."

Picard motioned toward Qia to refill his goblet. He was not often in need of spirits, but tonight just might be one of those nights.

Gowron added, "The flame haired doctor is welcome too. Klingon citizens do have multiple wives."

Picard closed his eyes at this thought. "I'd rather live…," he muttered to himself.

"You'll be staying down here from now on Picard. Plenty of rooms." Gowron pointed at Qia. "She has a sister if you are interested."

"What has changed?" Not that being on board the new IKS Gorkon was intolerable, but Picard did not like sudden changes without consultation.

"Captain Klag had to go do something." Gowron motioned for another wine. "There are two Starfleet ships in orbit about Qo'noS. Can't get rid of them."

"They're searching for me."

"Couldn't risk them detecting you on board a ship." He waved his arms. "This part of my palace is permanently cloaked. Not even my enemies know that it exists. Only way Starfleet finds you down here is if they do a room by room search. And I don't think that anyone at Starfleet Command has the guts to risk that kind of interstellar incident. Especially against me."

"Probably not."

Gowron finished off his wine. "Even if you don't mate with Qila, talk to both sisters. They are my shuVak, Picard. Best servants I've ever had." He clunked down his goblet. "Best spies too - on Risa…"

Picard's eyes widened as he began to comprehend the implications of a Klingon spy system on one of the more free-wheeling pleasure planets of the Federation.

Picard decided not to touch his third goblet of wine. He'd had enough to drink tonight. He went in search of an empty bed.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Part of Deanna's heart was sad. Worf was gone. Just talking to him through sub-space was simply not enough to fill the ache in her heart. Or all the space in her ambassador's size bed.

But she couldn't control her sense of joy. It was overwhelming.

There was a knock on her bedroom door to her pretty blue room. Her mother came in without waiting for permission to enter. She handed her daughter a mug of cocoa. Deanna didn't drink it. She just placed in on her night table.

One look at Deanna's face told Lwaxana all that she needed to know.

"It's finally happened, hasn't it, Little One?

Deanna nodded, even as tears of happiness streamed down her face.

"Isn't it wonderful, Daughter?"

"I never knew. I really never understood."

"The telepathic bond between mother and child is one of the greatest gifts a Betazoid mother can have." Lwaxana's smile was all knowing. "You'll have that connection the rest of your lives." She patted Deanna's tummy. "Give my grandson a few more weeks, and I'll be part of the connection too."

Deanna didn't even mind this possibility at the moment. She was just so happy entwining her loving thoughts with the mind of her wondrous son.

She could hardly wait to tell Worf. The 'connection' had finally happened. For a few weeks she'd been worried that her son's human genes would dominate over his Betazoid heritage.

She sat in bed for a while longer, beaming.

And then she thought of Will. As much as she loved Worf, there was a part of her heart that rejoiced in her connection to Will through his son. At least one of her long ago dreams had come true. She was carrying Will's child.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Ro woke up with a pounding headache. Then realized that the pounding sound was coming from her brig on the Galen. Apparently Mr. Riker had awakened.

She checked her sub-space messages. There was one from Kalita. All it said was, "Tom is a friend…"

Her headache threatened again, as she considered the best way to release the caged male.

Deciding that food might soothe the savage Riker, she walked into the kitchen and ordered two raw steaks, eggs, biscuit mix, Kona coffee beans and raw bacon, for good measure. Her next decision was to slip into something very red and very tight - her cat suit. She checked to make sure that all of the outfit's hidden weaponry was in place. After positioning the front zipper several inches lower than normal, she decided that she had more than enough cleavage showing to distract any male named 'Riker'.

She walked the corridor, calling out, "I'm coming to unlock the door, Riker. Kalita called you a friend…"

"Fancy that." But his voice didn't come from within the brig. It came from behind the door to her right.

She quickly whirled and dashed back into the common room, diving behind one of the chaise lounges. A phaser blast barely missed her even as she shot blindly at the corridor door.

"How the hell did you get out of the brig!" Even as she said it, she knew it was a stupid thing to say.

Another phaser blast hit the top of the chaise lounge. Judging by the way it was searing the new rust upholstery that she had only picked out barely two weeks ago, she decided that his phaser was set on stun too. But then her temper started to rise. She was not going to let her new upholstery get shot up. It was the first time in her life she'd ever tried doing something as domestic as picking out color schemes, and she was not going to let some Riker wannabe ruin it.

"Miz Ro, I just escaped from prison. I managed to survive for two years of a life sentence before Kalita and some Bajoran friends were finally able to help me get out of that hellhole of a labor camp."

"You should have told me that when we first met."

"Generally speaking, when a guy says that he just got out of prison, and he's in the presence of a pretty lady, and then he mentions that he's been without a woman for more than two years, the pretty lady tends to turn tail and run."

"You've been chatting up the wrong kind of women, Riker. I'd have told you that I'm always in the mood for meaningless fantastic sex…"

Riker laughed at this.

"Truce?" he called out from behind the door.

"Let's toss our phasers onto the deck in front of us on the count of three."

"One…," he called out.

"Two…," she answered.

"Three…," they both said in unison. Phasers clattered against the deck.

She quickly stood, holding a smaller phaser in her left hand, just in case. She wasn't completely surprised to see another phaser in his left hand as he stepped from behind the bulkhead.

He whistled when he saw her, thoroughly inspecting her up and down, noting every sexy detail of her jumpsuit. He looked at her with a real hunger as if he really was a man that had just spent over two years without a woman. Then he did something that did surprise her. He tossed his second phaser away. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble and dress for me…"

Not by a twitch, did she reveal that she was somewhat flattered by his words. But she relaxed a little, and took her eyes off of him as she placed her small phaser back into an invisible pocket.

That was her big mistake.

It only took a second before she sensed that he was rushing toward her. She dropped, he missed, and she rolled away from him, hoping that his momentum would make him hit the starboard bulkhead wall. But he'd swiftly twisted and managed to grab her ankle, dragging her towards him.

Mentally cursing that she had been foolish enough to only be wearing her flats instead of her spiked, high heel short boots, Ro braced herself, grabbing onto the leg of the dining table.

Still clutching her ankle, he stood then flipped her. She twisted and kicked. But the blow only glanced off of him. He grabbed. And now both ankles were held captive. Writhing, she fought him every inch of the way as he started to pull her closer.

He countered by falling on top of her though he did support himself so that he wouldn't crush her.

Her breath was taken away.

They tussled. He rolled. She rolled. He rolled. And now she was on top of him. But he had her in his clutches. And he wasn't about to let her go.

She tried kicking him...

"Oww…"

He held her tighter.

"Damn you, you Rigellian ox! Let me go! You taHqeq!"

"Temper, temper!" he warned as he still persisted holding on to her.

For a moment she was calm, which was another uncharacteristic mistake.

"Beautiful…," he whispered.

She then felt a response from him as a result of all of their struggling. He was becoming aroused. He was kin to Will Riker. Her response was to try to knee him where it would hurt the most.

"What a spitfire you are…"

"Cūlus aēnī!" she screeched.

Riker stopped trying to forge a more physical contact between them, for a moment. "Latin? Brass ass?"

"Brass ass hole!" She corrected him

He couldn't help it. He started to laugh. He duly noted that her breasts jiggled against his chest. He decided that she had a very nice jiggle.

"You speak Latin?"

"I learned on the Enterprise." She paused in her attempts to knee him in his family jewels. "You speak Latin?"

"Yes. Learned back when I was trapped on Nervala IV. One of these days I'll tell you over an ale."

Ro relaxed a little bit against him keenly aware of what she was feeling. And sort of liking it. "Just exactly who are you?"

His grip slackened, though he did keep his hands wrapped around her arms. They were also lightly brushing against the sides of her breasts. "Long story. You could say that I am the long lost twin brother of Will Riker. But believe me, Will never liked having me around."

Ro nodded into his chest. She found that statement easy to believe. "Why?"

Tom bestowed one of his better grins upon her. "Deanna likes my Night Bird better than Will's version."

That was something that she knew all about. "Will tried to play Night Bird at my wake. I think that I did wish I was dead when he attempted it."

"Your wake?"

"It's a really long story."

"So how'd you end up here?"

She decided that he was not really a danger to her. So she told him. "I lied to Captain Picard, betrayed the Federation, and joined the Maquis."

"I did the same thing too, except that I joined the Maquis first. Then I lied to Starfleet. And then I lied to Captain Sisko. Had to steal the Defiant, you see. The Maquis needed her. Sounds like we really do have a lot in common." His arms went slack. Ro rolled off of him.

"You could have told me all of this before you started blasting away." She eyed her damaged couch.

"You blasted first," he casually reminded her.

"Had to. One can never be too careful. Knew you weren't Will. And I'd never heard of him having a brother before." She shook her head, "Of course, I haven't heard much Starfleet gossip lately."

Tom stood up. He then reached over to Ro, offering her his hand in assistance. "Pax?" he suggested.

"Pax." She took his hand.

He lifted her up, and pulled her straight into his arms. He dragged her closer, whispering against her lips, "About that meaningless fantastic sex…"

"I know a place in Ootzey where you can get sex pretty cheap…" She elbowed him, and when she saw the disappointment in his eyes, she added, "But I will make you breakfast.

He let her go. "It's been a very long time since a beautiful woman made me breakfast."

Smiling to herself, she went into the galley. She'd graduated from pretty lady up to beautiful woman…

He ate everything she put in front of him, as if it were the best food he'd tasted in years. Considering what he'd said about a prison labor camp, maybe it was.

When he finally finished off his third cup of coffee, he leaned back, and looked about, reserving an especially admiring gleam in his eye for his hostess.

"You own this ship?"

"You could say I'm partners with someone."

"He's a fool for leaving you alone for even a minute."

"What makes you think it's a man?"

"When I hid waiting for you to come down the corridor, I noticed a few things in your quarters."

Ro's smile was blinding. "Snooping, eh? I don't like snoops."

"And I don't like a man who'd leave a beautiful woman all alone in a danger zone…"

"I can take care of myself. Besides, we don't have that kind of relationship."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. We sort of have that kind of relationship."

"He's married?"

"To his job… It's complicated. He's dedicated…"

"To someone other than you? Man's a fool!"

She couldn't help but smile at his words. "Let's just say that I'm not the great love of his life."

"What did I just say?"

She almost laughed. "What we have together is good. And right now, it is working."

He knew she lied. "How long has he been gone?"

"Four weeks." The words slipped out before she even thought about it.

"And the other woman?"

"To make life really complicated, she's a friend of mine too. Right now…"

He interrupted her. "Don't tell me you're being totally civilized and sharing him." Tom shook his head. "What has this guy got that I don't got?"

She groaned, having a hard time to ignore his words, even as there was a wee part of her brain that was asking the same thing. "I can believe you were locked up for over two years. You've lost what little polish you may have once had."

His jovial façade vanished. "After one week with the Cardies, they stripped away every vestige of my civilized genteel behavior."

She stiffened. "Where were you locked up?"

"Lazon II."

"Oh, god…"

His voice was grim, as he asked, "You know it?"

"I was there. Years ago. Gul Lemec gave me the grand tour of his prison systems."

Riker's expression was strange as he processed this bit of information. He knew too well what the Cardies did to female prisoners.

His voice was gentle; his concern genuine. He touched her hand. "But you survived, Ro. You're here, now. With me. And that is a pretty good thing."

He leaned over and hugged. She didn't protest. Though she did notice that he wasn't as broad shouldered as Will Riker. He really had been in prison.

For a while he held her, comforting her. And even though she knew that Jean-Luc's missions were justification for his absence, there was a part of her that was very lonely. And she was so tired of being alone.

"So, what are you doing on Macias?"

"Building a clinic for the settlers."

"That's why I was on Macias. I'd heard that there might be work."

"I guess we could afford to pay your salary." Her look was mischievous as she added, "All of us did volunteer, though."

He groaned. "I'm not going to complain about my bad luck since I did meet you." He looked about as if searching for something. "I'd settle for a real drink as payment."

Ro laughed. And then realized that she was really beginning to like this laid back version of Will Riker. "I think I can find something. Wine or ale?"

"Ale, Miz Ro. The blue stuff, if you've got it."

"I'll go get it."

He stopped her by holding her arm. "Tell me where it is. I'll get it. You fixed breakfast. The least I can do is wait on you hand and foot."

When he returned he placed the very large ale bottle and yard size beer glasses on the small table near the chaise lounge that he'd shot up earlier. He filled two glasses, and waited to see if she would come over to him. He handed her an ale as she did come. Then he sat down rather close, next to her.

She drank almost a third of her ale. "You can call me Ro," she announced. She drank some more.

"Not Laren?"

"Not yet. You have to earn that privilege."

"Well, you can call me Thomas. Or Tom. And you've already earned the privilege."

"How'd I do that?"

"You got the drop on me. Can't say that there are too many people still living that have ever done that."

"Your ego was hurt."

"That and a few other places on my anatomy, Ro. I hit the deck hard when you turned on the gravity." He laughed again.

She was amazed that he had such an affable attitude. She recalled how it had been when she'd been around Will Riker. "You're a lot like Will, you know."

"I don't think that I'd say that."

"He's always had a gregarious personality."

"Well, that's something with which I would agree. I've always tried to see the brighter side of life. Must have been all that never-ending Alaskan sun when I was a kid. I've always preferred the light. Ignored the dark."

"Whereas I've been told that I revel in the universal Bajoran doom and gloom."

He watched her as she drank some more ale. And then he made his move. "Think I could tempt you?"

"For what?"

"Ever since you mentioned meaningless fantastic sex, I haven't been able to get you off my mind."

She didn't really want to admit it to herself, but she was enjoying flirting with this man. "You are quite incorrigible."

"You're quite right, Ro." And then, before she could react, he pulled her back into his arms. And kissed her. Rather thoroughly.

Her mind was protesting his high-handedness. But her body remembered the Riker touch. Her nights with Will Riker had been rather eventful even if they'd both had lost their memories at the time. Her body knew him, and the pleasure he could provide.

She didn't notice when he squeezed something in his hand, and then dropped a small crystal onto the floor. Moments later, he caressed her cheek, spreading a drop of something against her skin.

She thought it was just the moisture from his glass.

He released her and reached for his own blue ale.

She needed to take a few deep breaths before she could even start castigating him.

But he didn't let her speak. Instead, he grabbed her hand, and placed it against his heart. "Feel how it beats for you." He slowly moved her hand lower. For a second she was impressed; tempted. She pulled free.

She shook her head. And then suddenly wished that she hadn't. For now, she was dizzy.

She was barely aware of him leaning over her, bending down and then grasping the tassel on the zipper of her catsuit with his teeth. He tugged it down.

"No," she protested. But he silenced her protest with passionate kiss.

She felt so strange. So on fire. When he opened up her catsuit, sliding the fabric off her shoulders, she didn't protest. Then he lowered his head to her breast. She weakly ran her fingers through his hair, not even wondering why she was feeling such an urgent need. Her last conscious thought was if Jean-Luc could have other lovers, she could too…

The moment her eyes closed, he stopped kissing her. And when he was sure that she was unconscious, he abruptly stood up, and reached inside of his pocket for a comm badge. He tapped it.

"She's knocked out."

A few seconds later, the shimmering sound of a transporter could be heard. Kalita was beamed directly onto the bridge of the Galen.

"You know what you are going to tell her when she wakes up?"

"Oh, yes. I'm going to play at being the perfect gentleman." He looked down at Ro, barely disguising his contempt for her. "She's a fool. The way Picard's using her. She must be in love with the man. She's been doing his bidding ever since she started sleeping with him."

Kalita sighed. "I still can't believe that Ro would betray the Maquis and go back to Starfleet just because of a lover."

"I don't get it either. She was imprisoned on Lazon II. You'd think the last thing she'd do is help the Cardies - especially after what they'd done to her."

Kalita moved around the room, placing bugs in every unlikely place she could find. "We'll have to test the bug's shields before we go. Can't have Picard or Ro detecting them."

Tom looked toward the bridge control panels.

"Too obvious, Tom. I don't want anything to trigger an alarm. And knowing Ro, there are probably all sorts of preventive precautions with the computer systems."

"I've already bugged the quarters." Tom took a drink of his ale, before adding, "You were right, by the way. She wasn't just going to let me waltz into her ship and take her to bed. I didn't expect to get phasered and locked up in the brig, though."

"How did you get out of the brig?" Kalita was curious because neither of them had anticipated how easy it would be for Tom to escape.

"You know, I'm not really sure. When I'd regained consciousness, I checked the room out to see what I could use to my advantage. Imagine my surprise when the force fields around the phasers let me to grab them. I even was able to command the door to open."

"Will Riker."

"What?"

"Picard must have set the sensors to accept Will Riker's DNA. Obviously Picard is expecting to rendezvous with Commander Riker sooner or later. Further proof that Picard is a spy."

"And since I started out life as Will Riker, I've got his identical DNA. Biometric security systems can't tell the difference between the two of us."

"When the time comes, you could control this ship. I'd be willing to bet that Picard has authorized Riker for access to everything on board."

Tom laughed. "One of these days, I may pay my doppelganger a visit after he becomes captain of the Enterprise E. I could have a field day with that ship."

Kalita shook her head. "Don't let anyone realize what you can do. We don't require the Enterprise right now. What we really need is to find out just exactly what Picard is doing in the DMZ."

"And this whore is going to help us do just that."

Kalita was sad to discover just how very much two years and six months in a Cardassian prison camp had changed Thomas Riker. And not for the better.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Captain Jellico was a happy man. He didn't know it yet. For he'd been unhappy for so long that he'd just become accustomed to the lack of joy in his life. He never even considered the possibility that he could change. It was the way he was. But nothing stays the same. Happiness had crept up and worked its way into his heart.

His senior staff had noticed. Those who had been with him a long time had observed the differences immediately. Now when he left his ready room, he no longer scowled at the bridge crew. He no longer was just doing his duty. He actually liked being on his bridge again, bringing to his duties an enthusiasm that he hadn't felt in years. And his fervor was catching. His ship was running exactly the way he'd always wanted it to be run. The daily stats were actually getting impressive with their improvement.

It was good to be alive.

Some of the changes had to be due to his new Number One, acting full commander Worf. Jellico had been suspicious about the Klingon's loyalty to Picard. But Jellico couldn't fault the warrior. His bridge duties were faultlessly executed. He was also the strictest disciplinarian that Jellico had ever encountered. Yet he was a fair officer. And instead of resenting all the discipline that he demanded of the Cairo's crew, they worked twice as hard to earn the Klingon's praises.

Jellico hadn't really wanted a vengeance bound Klingon on board his ship. But Starfleet had thought otherwise. And now, Jellico was willing to admit that for once, Starfleet had been right.

They still hadn't located Picard. And from what Worf had discovered, odds were that Picard would never leave the protection of the Klingon Empire. Still, they were within reasonable enough distance to the Klingon Empire, that if Picard ever did decide to come out from hiding behind the Klingon's coattails, Starfleet would be there to get him.

To further brighten his spirits, the Cairo was bringing about a change in the DMZ. Maquis raids and Ferengi pirate attacks in the sector that they'd been patrolling had dropped dramatically. The changeover of the Federation settlers from their homes to the new Cardassian controlled planets, was proceeding more smoothly than anyone had anticipated.

All in all, it was turning into a very successful tour. One that Starfleet command would notice.

Jellico paused and nodded at Worf sitting in his captain's chair. "You have the Bridge, Mr. Worf."

Jellico thought he heard a growled, "Yes, Sir", as he left the bridge.

After the captain had left the bridge, Worf studied his padd, ignoring low voiced discussions about him. While others on the bridge whispered about the transformation in their captain, Worf already decided that he knew why the captain had changed. Edward Jellico was in love.

As Jellico walked, he decided to go to the Holodeck where Nella was probably rehearsing. He was pleased to discover that she was alone.

She hadn't noticed that he'd entered the room. So he stood there, leaning against the Holodeck wall, listening to her practice Rhapsody in Blue. He was enthralled by the music and by the pianist.

She finally noticed him, and was actually pleased to see him. Nella had first thought Jellico to be a pompous jackass when she'd met him; quick to judge especially when it came to the guilt of Captain Picard.

But after a few weeks, she came to realize that his awkward demeanor was merely his nervous way of coping with the challenge of being a starship captain. Nella influenced him. And once he stopped trying so hard, he relaxed. And so did his crew. Now they were functioning as a team, rather than as individuals fearful of their captain's ire.

Nella actually liked Captain Jellico now. Almost every day they shared a luncheon in his ready room. They spent hours talking about everything and anything. He loved archaic Broadway musicals and the great movie musicals. She loved classical music. And he was almost as conversant about operas and opera singers as she was. Only Mr. Data had more knowledge.

Once she'd actually heard Jellico sing, she organized an amateur musical society. Surprisingly, quite a few of the crew were willing to join. In a few days, there was going to be a musical revue.

He was a baritone. She was a soprano. And their duets together were rather good, even if she thought so herself.

"Come to rehearse, Edward?" she asked as she reached for actual paper sheet music of their duet, "If I Loved You" from Rodger and Hammerstein's CAROUSEL.

Jellico was pleased that she was calling him by his first name, for he had asked her to call him Edward when they were off duty. She had not objected.

"Actually, I'm getting ready to prepare a report about the stellar cartography alterations for Starfleet. I thought that I'd better actually see the changes before I write about them to Command."

"Of course, Captain."

"I'm off duty, Nella."

"Good, Edward. I really wasn't in the mood to discuss all the boring technical details that I'd have to tell my Captain."

The fact that he laughed at this statement would have shocked most of his crew. They'd long thought that boring technical details were what made their captain's heart beat faster.

They started walking together toward the elevator and the stellar sciences deck.

"Then what would you like to discuss, Nella?"

"That renowned composer, Mr. Data, wants to come for a visit."

Jellico was excited by this news. "He wants to join the Cairo?" Jellico also momentarily wondered how his new Number One would handle becoming his Number Two officer. Little did he know that Worf would willingly step aside for Mr. Data.

"I don't know what Mr. Data is planning. He's coming as a civilian consultant. Apparently he doesn't want to rejoin Starfleet just yet."

"Why then, is he coming?"

"He is a close friend, Edward. My Aunt Carrie is very fond of him. As am I."

For a moment, a spike of jealousy touched his heart.

As if she knew what he was feeling, Nella added, "He's only a friend, Edward. A very dear friend. Nothing more." She archly commented, "Once you get to know him, I hope that you'll become friends too."

"I don't know if I could be friends with an android. I just want him to be my First Officer."

"Mr. Data has emotions now, Edward. In many ways, he is very human. And humane." She paused and placed her hand on his arm. "Give Mr. Data a chance. I think that you'll come to value his friendship as much as I do."

"I'll… try." It wasn't often that Edward Jellico wasn't quite sure how to handle a situation.

"Just a word of warning though."

"What?"

"Mr. Data is not quite as good a poker player as you might think he'd be."

It took Jellico a few moments for his mind to wrap itself around the concept of a poker playing android.

When they reached stellar cartography, Jellico was impressed with its reconfigurations. It wasn't just a scientific resource; it was a work of art too. Commander Daren's designs had been implemented featuring astronomical detailing flanked by mythological interpretations of the same constellations from the viewpoint of many different worlds.

"Scientific, historical, mythological and allegorical, all in one felled swoop. I'm impressed, Nella. Very impressed." Jellico climbed up to the observation platform, then turned around and offered Nella his hand. Nella did nothing when he didn't let go of her hand.

They were surrounded by stars. And it was awe-inspiring. "A job well done, Nella."

"Thank you, Edward."

They were silent for a while, as they gazed about. Edward still held her hand.

"Edward, I think I should tell you something."

"Anything, Nella."

"I am fond of you, Edward."

She didn't have to hear him respond to know that she had said what he had been dying to hear.

"I, uh, am very fond of you too, Nella. Rather a lot." It had been a long time since Jellico had courted anyone. And he hadn't even considered any kind of romantic involvement since the death of his wife. So, he was rather rusty at the game of courtship, to put it mildly.

They were silent again, for a time. And they still were holding hands. But Nella had to break the spell. "You know I'm a widow? Laurie and I were childhood sweethearts on Evadne IV. We were married before I went to the Academy. He died flying in a valjean racing accident a few months later."

"I'm sorry. I know what that kind of loss is like. I lost my wife, too. I focused on my career for years. I didn't have time for a permanent entanglement. But then I met Deborah. I changed my mind about permanent relationships almost immediately after meeting her. We were married two weeks after our first date. We had a son - Franklin Paul. He's now twelve going on twenty-five. I don't get to see him as often as I would like. One day, I hope to bring him on board the Cairo."

"That would be good for him. Good for you too." She said nothing for a while, then added, "After Laurie died, it was hard for me, to be so alone. For a while I kept searching for someone but I didn't find anyone special. You know what life is like for a junior Starfleet officer. Too many posting changes, no time for close friendships. I compensated for my loneliness by pouring myself into my career and my music. I didn't have time for personal complications."

"I did something similar Nella." He faced Nella, moving a bit closer. "Now, it's been over ten years since Deborah passed. And I haven't loved anyone since."

She'd barely noted his use of the word love before he kissed her. It was but a light touch on the lips. But it was also in full view of the monitors where anyone on the ship would have seen them kissing if they were looking.

She stepped back. She was determined to continue. "I went for quite a few years before I finally connected with someone - a friend as well as a lover. He was a talented amateur flautist. Together, we played a couple of duets. He was also a Starfleet officer."

"You're a very beautiful, intelligent woman. Of course you found someone."

Now he held both of her hands.

"The affair didn't last very long. A couple of weeks. We both thought that we could combine work and a relationship. But he couldn't."

"He was a fool."

"Yes, he was." She took a deep breath, mentally crossed her fingers, then continued her confession. "His name was Jean-Luc Picard."

Jellico froze. Then he lifted his hands from hers, pivoted, walked out of stellar cartography, and did not look back.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"You sure, Data?"

"Absopositively, Geordi."

Geordi refrained from commenting about Data's continuing exploration of idiomatic words and phrases.

Geordi paced around the private lab that Mr. Data had requested of the Daystrom. It was part of an enormous laboratory complex where Data had access to anything his little old android heart could desire. Data's lab was special. Data had been working on creating the most secure, safe, shielded complex his android mind could devise. About the only being who could get in without permission was Q. And Data had even designed a warning system to alert him if Q Continuum energy levels ever were detected.

Geordi was clearly worried. "Romulan Senator Cretak? And retired Rear-Admiral Ross?"

"Factually speaking, Geordi, it is Senator Cretak's son that is the connection to Admiral Ross."

"And Ross is the connection to the ARV Companies that makes most of the Federation quantum torpedoes."

Data had been checking out all torpedo manufacturing facilities. Geordi, on the other hand, started investigating the most obvious sources. Geordi had discovered the anomalies in production first, at the ARV factories.

"ARV has four plants in the Bajor system." Geordi put down his padd. "Can you get a message to Captain Picard, Data?"

"Geordi, I…" Data found it difficult to lie to friends.

"Data, don't. You think I don't know what you are doing? It only took me an hour to figure out what Picard's mission probably was. So, can you get a message to him? Let him know?"

"Geordi, if I were to admit anything, that is, if there were anything for me to admit, I could not do so. I am not allowed to do so. And I would not ever want to put you in a position where you could not honestly say that you know anything."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that you'd be under orders." Geordi laughed. "Just in case you do manage a random encounter with our mutual unnamed friend, let him know that I'll do whatever he wants done."

"I am positive that our mutual friend already knows that, Geordi."

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Here's your ginger tea, Mother."

A grateful Beverly took the steaming cup from her son. When she had Wesley, she'd rarely experienced morning sickness. But this time, it was almost every day. And not just in the morning either. Though there were all sorts of morning sickness cures, Beverly preferred the homeopathic ones. Ginger or pepper mint tea was high on her list of remedies for nausea. And matzah crackers, of course.

Wes sat down on the edge of the couch and watched his mother drink her tea. "Is there anything else I can do, Mom?" He had readily come to terms with a brother and sister on the way. He rather liked the idea.

He held his mother's hand, just simply happy to be able to hold it. Then he sensed something.

"Any idea where Guinan is?" he casually asked. "I'd like to take some of her special herbs back to UP with me. I'm pretty sure that Robin will like them."

"Guinan went down to the village. And when, by the way, am I going to actually get to see your wife again?"

"As soon as I can arrange it, Mom." Wesley stood and stretched. "I think I'll go for a walk. I've got to head back to Utopia Planetia pretty soon, so I want to take one last look around the real Brigadoon."

As soon as he'd walked out of the cottage, he started jogging toward the village. He had to find Guinan. He ran into her down the road.

"Guinan!"

Guinan studied Wes, then commented, "Okay, you sensed it too."

"It can't be what I think it is."

"It is. Bev's babies are going to be like you. Good thing you're their older brother. You can guide them."

"But still, the odds of Mother having twins with my gifts are astronomical."

Guinan gazed off toward the sunset, thinking, before she uttered, "Yes, it is…"

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Jean-Luc Picard moaned. It had been a long time since he'd felt so relaxed. Qila wasn't just a Klingon spy. She was also an excellent masseuse. And she was practicing her craft on a fairly frustrated ex-starship captain. For he'd taken up Gowron's offer, and had decided to speak to the spy.

But Qila wasn't that talkative, face to face. The only way she'd answer Jean-Luc's questions was if she was working on him. After the first few minutes of her massage, Picard thought that he might be inclined to answer her questions. And then he understood why the Nuvians were such excellent spies. They could lull anyone into conversations with their magical fingers.

Life as Gowron's palace guest was decidedly unusual. He had little access to the outside universe. No communication devices. No computer terminal. Just surprisingly good food, sybaritic pursuits, and a chance to learn more about Klingon culture and rituals than he'd ever really wanted to learn.

He did discover Gowron's library. And for a time had immersed himself in Klingon opera, battle plays, and even poetry. It was very enlightening. And he was coming to really appreciate their culture. His Klingonese was improving too.

Gowron began to join him at night. Sometimes they played poker. Most of the time they talked about what kind of new DMZ they wanted to form. They were analyzing data, deciding their next moves, and how to uncover more information. Picard was busy.

Still in the darkness of the night, his thoughts turned to Beverly…

Qia appeared in the doorway to the almost Roman style suite of bathing pools. "Captain Picard, there is a communiqué for you. If you will follow me, I'll show you where you can get it."

Picard slipped into a robe, and followed. Minutes later he was waiting to be connected to Mr. Data.

"Captain, how are you?"

Picard broadly smiled. "It's good to see you, Mr. Data. I take it you have some information?"

"Yes, Sir. Geordi has determined that the most likely source of the quantum torpedoes is on Bajor. ARV Companies. There is however, a problem."

"Of course there is," Picard almost muttered out loud. "And that is, Mr. Data?"

"There are four factories in the Bajoran system. One or all of them could be the source."

"So the quantum torpedoes can be smuggled in either direction."

"Mainly toward Cardassia or Romulus, Sir."

"Do we know who may behind the smuggling of the torpedoes?"

"Admiral Ross."

That was a name Picard was not expecting. "How sure are you?"

"Positive. He has been in communications with the son of Senator Cretak."

"Of Romulus."

"Yes, Sir." Data sent an encoded message to Picard's terminal. "You now have all of the information, Captain. And Admiral Nechayev has asked me to inform you that Admiral Nakamura had joined us."

"Thank you, Mr. Data."

"There is one other known connection - Gul Lemec. Starfleet Command believes that Lemec is part of the Obsidian Order."

Cold fear raced down Picard's spine. For he'd recognized the name. He was Gul Madred's commanding officer. Picard would remember the name of the men who had tortured him until the day he died.

This mission of his was getting more complicated. More personal. And his concern was growing.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Q! Get your butt out here!"

Guinan was on the warpath. And there was no place in the universe where Q could hide from a wrathful El Aurian. Guinan stomped about Q's lair, throwing everything she could get her hands on, picked from various walls, curios and cubby holes. Breenian crystal gilt vases to Q's Hummel collection, were flung. Guinan was determined to flush him out.

Guinan also did not want to know why Q collected Hummels in his palace. But then, the whole palace was a bizarre group of rooms built on an isolated moon in orbit about a planet that nobody knew existed, except for the Q Continuum. And decorated in a manner that only this Q could love. He had lots of souvenirs. None of them were tasteful.

"I know you're here someplace. Everybody has been giving you up!"

"No doubt it was your pleasant personality. Or did you threaten plagues?" He stepped out of the shadows.

"Don't you dare try to change the subject! What game have you been playing?"

"Game? Moi? I don't know what you mean."

Guinan took a deep breath. "You know exactly what I mean! You know what you did!"

"Perhaps you'd better be more specific, Barkeep." He suddenly stopped, having a stunned expression when he encountered his broken Hummels.

"Guinan! How could you! I was saving them to break them myself during my annual too cute to live day of destruction celebration! I hold it on Earth every May!"

She gave him her best version of the evil eye.

He'd never show it, but he did shiver in his boots.

"What did you do to Beverly?"

He was smart enough not to pretend that he didn't know what Guinan was ranting about. Not that he could admit it. "Why whatever do you think I did to the long, red haired bitch. Does she still woof now and then?"

"She's pregnant!"

"I am not the Father!"

"Phah!" was Guinan's response. "You know that's not what I meant. What did you do to Beverly to get her to become pregnant?"

"Why are you complaining? I gave Beverly and Jean-Luc their most secret wish. Children."

"I knew Beverly could never have screwed up her own birth control. You interfered."

"Of course I did. If I left it up to them, by the time they'd get around to thinking about babies, they both would be too old. Jean-Luc is no spring chicken, you know." Q paused for a moment. "Good heavens, I finally found the appropriate moment to use that phrase! Or should I have called Jean-Luc a crow-less rooster?"

"Q!" Guinan warned.

"Of course, I interfered. It was my duty to do so!"

"Let me guess. The universe needs more bouncing baby Qs!"

"Of course we do." Q grinned. "Can you imagine the look of Jean-Luc's face when he finds out that his children are going to be related to me? I think that I'll appoint myself the babies' godfather."

"Like you did with Wesley Crusher?"

"Guinan, you wound me!"

"You've been meddling for a very long time with Jean-Luc and Beverly, haven't you? You knew Jean-Luc before Farpoint. Long before Farpoint!"

Q sniffed. "And what if I did?"

Guinan groaned. "How long have you been playing with Jean-Luc?"

"Actually, I started with Beverly."

That did surprise Guinan. "Your explanation had better be good. Or else I'll complain to your parole officer. You know what the Continuum threatened if you didn't behave!"

"Tish! Tosh! Everything I've done is for the good of the Continuum."

"I think some might doubt that."

"Well, I found Beverly to be a very interesting lady. She had unique attributes. I went to her wedding to muck it up. I discovered that she'd done it all by herself."

"What do you mean?"

"She fell in love with her groom's best friend. Guess who."

"Even I know the answer to that!"

"Yes, but did you know that she mated with Jean-Luc? Did the dirty deed right before the wedding?"

Guinan eyed him suspiciously. "You're not trying to tell me…"

"Wesley is Jean-Luc's son."

Guinan plopped herself down in an overstuffed leather chair that happened to have devil mask arms as a design. And Vulcan bunny rabbit feet.

"I don't even want to know how you did it."

So of course he told her. "I placed them alone in an interesting situation. Then I spiked their drinks. Used an aphrodisiac. And then an amnesiac. They never knew what hit them. Beverly immediately got pregnant, but since I didn't wish to upset her too much - at least not back then - I managed to fix things so that everything pointed to Jack Crusher as being the father."

"You finagled the DNA."

"Just took a click of the fingers. No one's figured it out yet." He crossed his fingers behind his back hoping that Guinan would never find out the complete truth about what he'd done to the Dancing Doctor and his pet Starfleet captain.

"Let's hope Wes doesn't find out for a very long time. I wouldn't want to be you when he does."

"Wesley is not the problem, Madam Ex-wife. It's Beverly when she finds out. In case you hadn't noticed, she's the carrier of the 'Q' gene. I suspect that she has some untapped powers. I've been intending to explore the possibilities. Just haven't gotten around to it - yet."

Guinan rolled her eyes. "I think I'd better help her discover them." Guinan suddenly thought of a flaw. "And what is Beverly going to think when she discovers how similar the babies' DNA is to Wesley's DNA? She's going to connect the dots sooner or later."

"I'll do my best to make it later."

Guinan started chuckling. "What a mess. Picard stuck in the Klingon Empire. Beverly pregnant. Ro Laren boffing Picard every chance she gets."

"Don't forget the Menage a Troi."

"You can't take credit for that one, Q. Riker did it all by himself."

"I suppose so. The man needed no help from me in making his life exciting."

"You set out to make Picard's life miserable. And you most definitely succeeded."

"Au contraire, Guinan. I set out to make Picard's life interesting. I am sure that if you ask him, he'd finally admit that he is having loads of fun."

"Loads? Yet you let the Enterprise crash."

"Guinan! I did not do that! No, that was fate. I couldn't stop the crash. However, I actually did save the lives of every one of Picard's crew. Though why Riker let Deanna Troi drive, I will never know…"

=/\= =/\= =/\=

It only took a few minutes for the rumors about Jellico and Daren quarreling to race around the Cairo. The crew was universally disappointed. The likelihood of Jellico turning back to his old miserable self, seemed like a sure thing.

Worf grunted in disgust as he listened to the gossip swirl about his duty station. He glanced over at the captain's ready room door several times. Jellico had been holed up in there since whatever happened had happened. After considering what he should do for several hours, Worf left the bridge and approached Jellico's door. He set off the door sensor. He waited. No response. Buzzed again. And finally gained admittance.

Jellico was sitting behind his desk, seemingly absorbed in the daily duty reports. He didn't look up as Worf entered.

Worf stood there, waiting.

After a few minutes, Jellico acknowledged him. "What is it, Mr. Worf?" He still didn't look at the Klingon.

"Apologize."

That caught Jellico's attention. "I beg your pardon?" Every word was spit out as if chiseled in ice.

"Permission to speak off the record, Captain?"

Jellico nodded, somewhat bemused that the Klingon had the temerity to continue.

"Do you remember Counselor Deanna Troi?"

Jellico was warier now as he tried to figure out where the Klingon was going with all this. "Of course I remember Counselor Troi. Excellent therapist."

"She and Will Riker were once lovers. She loved him even though he loved his career more than her."

Jellico was still lost in space. "And your point being?"

"Deanna is now my wife. She is carrying our child. She chose to live in our present and our future - and not dwell in the past."

Jellico was flabbergasted. Even though he didn't personally like Commander William T. Riker, he knew that Picard's Number One was well-known as a lady's man throughout the Federation and many points beyond. He couldn't figure out how Riker would let any woman that he desired slip away from him.

His first officer clearly had skills that were not common to the average Klingon. Jellico could not quite figure out how a Klingon warrior could woo the unquestionably sensual Betazoid counselor.

Worf leaned closer to the desk. "My father told me that the best way to handle a woman is to apologize - even if you've done nothing wrong. Bring flowers, or chocolate. Apologize again. Then grovel."

"I can't see you groveling, Worf."

"Groveling is guile, Captain. It works. I won Deanna away from Will Riker by having it." He stood straight up, expecting Jellico to figure out the obvious.

"And why do you presume that I need advice about love from a Klingon?"

Worf ignored the sarcasm. "I also know Commander Daren. She is a very brave, honorable, forthright woman. If she cares for you, then there must be very good reasons about why she does so. I respect her judgment." Implied, but not stated was Worf's admittance that he now respected Jellico too. Worf stepped back away from Jellico's desk. "She is also my friend. I do not wish to see her hurt. By anyone."

"Worf, my personal life is not fodder for gossip aboard my ship!"

"You are too late."

Jellico was taken back by this statement. He'd honestly thought that he'd been very discreet when it came to courting Nella. "Dismissed."

Jellico was having a difficult time trying to understand Worf's motives in telling him all this. Yet, he'd also noted Worf's silent declaration of respecting him as a captain. And as a man. Jellico knew that a Klingon's respect for a human was very hard to earn. A part of him was surprised and pleased.

Worf took a step back, pivoted, walked to the ready room door, then repeated, "Apologize." He exited.

Jellico shook his head in disbelief. Love advice to the forlorn from a Klingon…

=/\= =/\= =/\=

She told herself she was through with men - especially Starfleet captains. They'd hurt her enough.

Nella hadn't wanted to like Jellico. She'd come on board the Cairo to help save Picard. And not to get involved with another captain. But there was something about Jellico that had been appealing. He was a very, very good Starfleet captain, not a legendary one. He wasn't destined to save the universe every other week. He actually seemed to need her, which was something that Picard never did. In short, Jellico was a normal, ordinary good man. He wasn't cursed by the gods with the gifts of extraordinary talents like Picard was.

She idly sat at the desk in her quarters having let down her red hair, and was now twirling her long hair into curls. She'd changed out of her uniform into a coral silk lounge suit.

She wondered where she should go from here. She didn't want to have to request a transfer to another starship - again. She even thought that maybe she'd been a fool to turn down Data's romantic overtures. Now Data was someone who would never disappoint her. He was honorable, logical and loyal to a fault. He didn't have a bloody male ego!

She would have gone on mentally ranting against male captains if her doorbell hadn't rung. Sighing, she stood then called out, "Enter."

The one person she didn't expect to see was Edward Jellico.

He stood at the threshold. And he was crushing a bouquet of cristilia in his hand. "May I come in?"

She had to think about it before she said, "Yes."

"I apologize."

He wore a sheepish expression as he took two steps over the threshold into the cabin.

"For what?" She hadn't encountered a contrite side to Jellico before.

"For being the biggest, jealous, stupidest jackass in the universe."

The knot in Nella's stomach began to unfurl. Maybe there was hope for him. "I won't disagree about that, Edward. You are a jackass fairly often."

He took two steps closer. "Can you forgive me?"

"I may consider it."

"Good." He held out the flowers. Then he dropped them. He took four long strides across the room, pulled Nella into his arms, and kissed her. Thoroughly. She had underestimated him. Though she did think that the kiss was rather short when he released her.

"I may be an idiot, Nella, but I'm not a fool. Not like Picard. If you want me to go, I will. But I don't want to leave. It was my stupid jealousy over Picard that caused me to act as I did. You caught me by surprise. I do apologize. I really regret what I said. It wasn't fair of me."

Nella looked down at the purple and yellow flowers now scattered over her carpet. "Aren't you supposed to give me the flowers before we kiss?"

Flustered, he dropped to his knees and began to pick up the flowers.

She knelt down facing him, picked up a flower, and then dropped it herself. "Close enough," she announced. Jellico found himself being pulled into her embrace. She passionately kissed him before she stood. Then she extended her hand to him.

He took it.

"You don't have to be jealous over Picard. We're only friends now. We said our formal goodbyes when you rescued him. Though he'd really left me years ago. In the future, the only time I'll ever want Jean-Luc around is if I have a flute part for him to play."

"As long as it's not a duet," Jellico commanded.

"That much I can promise." She moved back into his arms. "No more duets..." She smiled up at him, caressing his cheek. "Unless they're with you, Edward."

"Really?" he whispered.

"I do love your singing." Then she pulled him towards her couch. "I think we will harmonize well together." And she meant more than singing.

This time when he kissed her, he let his lonely heart go. And it met her heart.

"I apologize, Nella."

"For what, Edward?"

"For taking so long to do this." He kissed her forehead. "And this…" He kissed the tip of her nose. "And this…" He kissed her eyelids.

"You're an idiot, Edward." She snuggled closer.

"Yes, I rather believe I am." He kissed her again. This time on her lips. But not anymore.

She parted her lips as she now kissed him back. He does know how to kiss…

They were in agreement.

A long time later, she whispered to her captain, "I think cristilia is now my favorite flower…"

On the bridge, Worf noted the location of the captain's comm badge, then classified that information as for his eyes only. Too many people liked to snoop on board the Cairo. Clearly he should find everyone more work to do. And then Worf smiled.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Ro carefully opened her eyes as she tried to figure out what had happened. She most definitely was on the couch in the common room. She appeared to be fully clothed. From the sound of the engines, the Galen was still in orbit. Somewhere.

She raised her head. She was groggy. Someone had slipped her a mickey. And though she loathed to admit it, her Number One suspect had to be Tom Riker. The big question now was why.

Someone was whistling a cheerful tune. Ro closed her eyes again. Riker was still here. She wished that life would stop being so damned complicated.

"I've made some pancakes," Tom yelled out from the kitchen.

Ro carefully sat up. "How'd you know I was awake?"

"Your breathing pattern changed."

She hadn't expected an actual answer. "Now what?"

"Aren't you supposed to be building a clinic?"

Ro was not going to be distracted by idle talk. "What happened?"

"You had a glass of ale and then passed out."

"What? No meaningless fantastic sex?"

"I like my women to be ready, willing, conscious and enthusiastic. You weren't."

She was glad that he had at least some sort of gentlemanly standards. "You showed remarkable restraint."

"Yes, I did." He came into the room to inspect her.

"I don't normally pass out on one glass of ale." She yawned. "I guess I was really tired."

"Why don't you go sack out?"

"No. I've got to go finish building the clinic."

"Well then, have some breakfast. You might feel better with something on your stomach." He offered her his hand.

She took it. For a second it felt as if a shock coursed through her nervous system. She immediately dropped his hand, and stood under her own power. She wasn't too steady on her feet, but she made it over to the dining table. She sat down at the table, and glanced over at the port to verify that they were still in orbit about Macias. She was wondering what to do next. She didn't want to admit it, but she was very disappointed in Tom Riker. And then she wondered about the game he was playing. For she had genuinely liked him.

A lot.

"I'd heard talk in Dozer that you're the one who got all the supplies for the clinic. And the school too. How did you accomplish that? Rich uncle? Pirate treasure?"

He passed her some pancakes and watched her eat a few bites before he helped himself to the rest of the pancakes on the platter.

"No. I don't have a rich uncle. Just a partner." She poured honeyed syrup over her pancakes. "We had a wild run of luck at a casino in Ootzey. Enough to buy this ship, and then some. My partner suggested that I use his winnings for the greater good. So I decided to build a school and a clinic."

"Very generous of the guy. Who is he?" The questions sounded innocent enough, but Ro was sensing something else.

"I'll let you find out for yourself. You might be surprised."

"He's coming here? When?"

"Soon. I don't have an exact timetable." She ate another pancake. "These pancakes are very good. Fluffy."

Riker laughed. "Seltzer water is my secret. Finally, someone who likes my cooking." He picked up his coffee and sniffed it. "Ah, such good stuff."

"We've got to get going. I'm on a tight schedule to finish the clinic. I've got to rendezvous with some traders on Thelka in a few days."

"Will your partner be there?"

Ro was beginning to think that Riker was one of the worst spies she'd ever encountered. Problem was, who was he spying for? The only logical answer was Kalita for she had vouched for Tom Riker in the first place. And then the implication of her suspicion sank in.

The Maquis thought that she was a traitor…

=/\= =/\= =/\=

He just sat there, gazing upon her. His face was close to the crystal aluminum partition as if he had to be as close to her as possible. He was seated in the Greystoke lounge, overlooking the building docks of Utopia Planetia in orbit around Mars. All of the names of the lounges in UP referenced Edgar Rice Burroughs. The Greystoke Lounge overlooked the construction of a ship.

Will Riker picked up his cold coffee, and finally finished it off. In eleven weeks, she would be all his. And she was the most beautiful, enticing lady that he would ever have. The Enterprise E.

He'd been sitting there for hours.

"Captain."

Riker looked toward the man who approached. And quickly stood. "Admiral Nakamura."

"She really is a beauty, isn't she Captain? I truly do envy you."

Riker smiled. "I can't wait to get aboard her."

"That can be arranged."

Riker shook his head. "I'm not about to break the time honored unspoken rule that a new ship and her new captain should never meet until the day of the ship's christening."

"There are ways around that tradition, Captain Riker." He glanced around, whispering, "Come with me."

A few minutes later, Will found himself in a shuttlecraft approaching his new command-to-be.

"I hate to tell you this, Captain, but there may be a delay in the construction of the Enterprise."

Riker stared at the shuttlecraft pilot in disbelief. And groaned. "Admiral, now what?"

"Actually you can blame your friend LaForge."

"What did Commander LaForge do?"

"Nothing much. Just designed a brand new warp drive for the Enterprise and her saucer section. If it does what it's supposed to do, it will be a major scientific leap forward. Starfleet Command is anxious to put it in action. Amazing that LaForge used the exact same size for the warp core as the original planned engine. There's not that much that has to change in the plans."

"That sounds like Geordi."

Woody piloted the shuttlecraft into the landing bay.

"I don't think that I need to advise you to keep your captain's piloting skills from getting rusty. Nothing worse than a stuffy captain that has to be chauffeured everywhere because he forgot how to fly." He motioned toward the door. Riker hesitated. Woody sighed. "Captain, has anyone at Starfleet Command formally offered you the captain's chair of the Enterprise E?"

"No, Sir."

"Then technically you're not yet her captain. You can come on board her."

Riker liked the way the Admiral thought.

"Jean-Luc thought of doing this first." Woody added, "Captain Picard did the same thing when he learned about the possibility of being appointed captain to the Enterprise. He came on board her before anyone formally said anything."

Riker laughed. "That's Jean-Luc all right." Riker then stepped for the first time onto the deck of his ship.

Woody showed Riker around the bridge for about half an hour, then engineering, and then he guided Riker toward the crew's quarters.

"Lots of improvement. More room for senior officers. And all senior officers will have their choice of water or sonic showers." Riker could appreciate that amenity. "And only ensigns and the occasional lieutenant J.G. will have to share quarters. Senior NCOs will have individual cabins. Non-coms will only have two per cabin instead of four. And anyone who is married will get at least a three room suite. If they have children, they'll get at least four or five room suites." He paused, and motioned for Riker to enter a cabin.

Riker dutifully looked about comparing the vast difference between this junior officer's quarters, and the ones that he'd had to share years ago. Then he noticed that Nakamura had pulled out his tricorder and was checking over the room.

Admiral Nakamura locked the door, and motioned for Riker to sit on the bed since the rest of the furniture was not yet installed.

"Will, have you heard from Picard?"

Will didn't quite know what to say.

Nakamura glanced about. "I'm pretty sure this cabin isn't being monitored. I picked it at random."

"Sir, I…"

"I go way back with Jean-Luc, Will. I was a lieutenant and Picard was an ensign, when we were both assigned to the Reliant. I've lost track of how many times Picard has beaten me in poker." He sat down on the bed too. "I need to know if you've heard from him."

"Admiral…"

"You're old enough now to call me Woody, Will."

Riker controlled his grin. "Officially, I have not heard from Captain Picard."

"But you do know where he is?"

"I have a pretty good guess - Woody."

Woody nodded. Then as if he were discussing something else, he asked, "You do know about the traditional galaxy class captain's privilege, don't you?"

"Meaning?"

"You get to choose your own crew. As I recall, Jean-Luc went and personally visited or inspected every candidate for department head and senior staff."

"I don't remember Picard checking me out."

"Oh he did, Will. He just didn't let you know it. From what I heard, he did give you a pretty tough time during your first year on board the Enterprise.

"Now that rumor is actually true."

"I take it that you're working on picking your crew."

"I've already decided on a good number of the officers that I'd like to have."

"You need to officially visit them, Will. Personally meet them. And all the other candidates."

"I don't think that I have enough time to do so."

"You do. The Enterprise E will be in dry dock for months - as long as it takes. Don't bother trying to make arrangements for travel, Will. I've got a perfectly good admiral's yacht that I never use. You can borrow the Mae Jemison and take it wherever you need to go. She's got diplomatic registration too. Which means you can go just about anywhere. And fast too. Warp restriction rules don't apply to admiral's yachts."

"Woody, I don't know what to say."

"It might interest you to know that since it is an admiral's yacht, you don't always have to file a flight plan. Admiral's privilege. We do so many secret diplomatic missions that sometimes I never even bother. I just notify Starfleet Command whenever I show up where I need to be. Or maybe not, if it's personal…"

Riker's mind boggled over the possibilities for he'd never heard of this admiral's privilege before.

Then there were the practical considerations. "Won't I need a crew for the yacht?" He didn't really want to go flying about the galaxy with unknown crew.

"One or two people, at best. I recommend Ensign Robin Lefler and Lieutenant Commander Wesley Crusher."

Riker's jaw dropped.

Woody understood why. "Yes, Wesley rejoined Starfleet." He saw the unspoken question on Riker's face. "And no, you can't have Wesley just yet. He's got to finish something before he can be released for starship duty."

"As soon as Wes is free, I get first dibs on him."

Woody agreed.

"We could use a few more good Klingon officers in Starfleet, Will. You might want to contact Worf about possible candidates. If by chance you happen to visit the Klingon Empire during your travels, I wouldn't mind it if you extended my personal greetings to Picard."

Riker stood and pretended to inspect the closet. "I take it that you want me to take a message to Jean-Luc."

Woody reached inside of his jacket pocket. "And give him this." He handed Riker a chip.

"Be glad to, Sir."

"Now, let's get off of the Enterprise before we get caught." Ten minutes later, Woody was guiding the shuttlecraft around the Enterprise so that Will could see all the new physical design changes.

After a few minutes, Woody stood and then motioned for Riker to stand as well.

"Captain William T. Riker, on behalf of Starfleet Command, I hereby do formally offer you the captain's chair of the Enterprise 1701-E. Do you accept?"

"Yes, Sir. I do accept."

"Good. Now you're her captain, Captain William Riker. Treat this lady well."

"Always, Woody."

Woody sat back down in the pilot's seat. And made several notations in his padd. William Riker was now officially the captain of the Enterprise 1701-E.

"Did Picard ever mention the Admiral's round-up?"

"Uh, no, Sir."

"Well, Will, once you actually sit in the big chair you will be officially invited to join the round-up whenever you can. We meet once a month. Usually at a Starbase somewhere. Or on Risa or Clarion. And bring your money bags. Some of us fancy ourselves to be great poker players." He could see that Riker didn't quite understand. "Will, you are a Starfleet Captain now. You probably will play poker with your senior staff. But, to tell the truth, you will find it difficult to be pals with them."

"I know that. I've already realized that constraint just by being the Commandant of the Flight School."

"Yes, well there will come a time when you need to talk to someone, and sometimes you just can't discuss certain things with your subordinates. That's what the Admiral's round-up is for. We play poker. Or pool. We have bull sessions. You'll be amongst equals of your own rank. Or you'll be with mentors who already know what it's like to be the captains of starships."

"Thank you, Sir."

"And Will…"

"Yes, Woody?"

"We only invite a few starship captains to join. Most captains are never going to be offered an invitation. So, we never discuss what goes on at the round-up with outsiders. And how you handle yourself will make or break your career. Don't worry, Jean-Luc was nervous too, at first. But then he started winning at poker. Annoyed a lot of admirals. But on the other hand, we also knew he wasn't a toady. Also knew he was very smart too. For he did let us win, now and then."

Riker laughed. For that did sound like Picard.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Lieutenant Commander Reginald Endicott Barclay III was having fun. A concept that was almost foreign to the man.

"Raise 'em high! You varmint!"

In mock terror, Reg raised his hands high, pleading, "Don't shoot! You got me dead and square!"

The giggles behind him gave away the location of Jory and Harla.

A moment later his back was being prodded with a toy gun. "Straight to jail!" Harla ordered. Jory opened up a stall inside the stable where they were re-enacting scenes from Deadwood, the Holoprogram that Barclay had created a few years ago for another child, Alexander Rozhenko. He'd quickly discovered that Mela's twins loved to play the sheriff and the bank robbers.

Every time Reg came to LaBarre, he always found time to play with the twins. And next to sending worshipful gazes at Mela, whenever he thought that the lady wouldn't notice, it was one of his favorite things to do at Château Picard.

Reg meekly ambled toward the stall, when suddenly he picked Jory up and yelled, "Jailbreak!". He dashed out the stable door, straight into the cobblestone courtyard, heading toward the slate covered portico. Harla trailing after him, loudly yelling "Stop in the name of the law!" Somehow this command ended up with Barclay tussling on the cobblestones, with two active seven-year-olds, who were bent on tickling him to death.

Marie Picard slowly walked around the long wood table, laying down linen napkins and flatware, as she watched the commotion in the courtyard.

She glanced over at Mela, as she breastfed John Luke. The lady's honey brown long hair draped over her shoulders, down to her breast It gave Mela an almost Madonna like image.

"When are you going to put that man out of his misery?" When she didn't get a response, Marie finished lining up the spoons, knives, forks and salt cellars in their proper order. She walked over to Mela. She was concerned. Her new-found friend was exactly what she'd needed in her life after the death of Robert and Rene. Jean-Luc had asked as a favor to provide shelter for Mela and her children. But what he had really done was a favor for Marie by bringing the laughter of children - life - back into her big, empty Château.

Mela placed her baby back in his crib, buttoned her ivory cambric blouse, and then looked over at Marie, trying to decide exactly how to answer that question.

"Not all men are like your husband," Marie remarked.

"I know that. Jean-Luc showed me that some men could actually be a gentleman."

"Noblesse oblige," Marie whispered. She caught Mela's puzzled look. "That's French for always acts like a gentleman in thought, word and deed. That's my definition of Jean-Luc's character. Much as I loved Robert, at times he was not always a noble man. He was too close to the earth. But Jean-Luc - he was born to the title Comte de Holl. I'm glad that he now has it. He embodies the noblest of civilized man's sentiments."

Mela's eyes widened. During her stay here in LaBarre, she had learned of the locals and their devotion to ancient traditions - including the nobility. Though Mela didn't exactly understand the concept of archaic French nobility; upper and lower class status was a fairly common idea wherever you went in the universe.

"This title means a great deal?"

"Only in France, Mela. I don't think that Jean-Luc ever wanted it. Or needed it." Marie's lips trembled, as she added, "And he certainly never wanted to inherit it the way that he did."

"How?"

"Usually passed from father to eldest son. Then to the nearest male heir."

"I am truly sorry, Marie," as she sympathized over Marie's great losses.

Marie studied Mela. "You're not in love with Jean-Luc, are you?"

Mela's light laughter at such a thought, eased Marie's mind. "It would have been so easy to do so, but from the very beginning Jean-Luc made it clear that he loves his Beverly. Or his Ro Laren."

"For a man who seemed to have such an ascetic life style, he certainly does have a lot of woman trouble." Marie smiled. "About time, too. I did worry that his life as a starship captain was too lonely to be good for him."

More squeals were heard - mainly from Barclay.

Both ladies looked towards the sounds.

"Reg would make a good father," Marie observed.

"I know." Mela watched him for a while. "Only problem is, I don't want to hurt him."

"How so?"

"I can't say that I wasn't hurt when Jorge divorced me so quickly. He didn't even wait to listen to my explanations, as if it were my fault that the Unk blew up, and I had to be rescued by a Starfleet captain. Then when he said that John Luke was not his son, I knew that I couldn't go back to him again."

"How on earth did you end up married to the bastard?"

"We lived on Dorvan V in a small farming community. I was only seventeen when I met Jorge. He had a prosperous farm and needed a wife. I was the oldest of five children. Jorge represented a chance for me to live my own life. He was the first man that had ever paid any real attention to me. I thought that Jorge would be my fairy tale prince. We got along fairly well, until the children came. And then the Federation gave our planet to the Cardassians. He changed, after that. Even though we were promised that there would be no changes in our lives, Jorge didn't believe the Federation or the Cardassians. He went in search of another farm. And left me to sell our farm, and go to where he was going to settle on Tohvun..." She shrugged her shoulders, "You know the rest."

"So where does this leave Mr. Barclay? He's been coming here almost every time he has a free minute."

"I'm afraid to trust my judgment, Marie. I'm not going to make the same mistake again, just because Mr. Barclay pays attention to me too. I've learned that loneliness is not reason enough for marriage. It is too high a price to pay."

"Then have an affair with the man. Find out for yourself what he is really like."

Mela was a wee bit shocked at this suggestion. Certain terrafarming worlds were still a bit provincial.

"I think it's a safe bet that Reg is going to worship the ground that you walk upon every day for the rest of your life, if you but give Mr. Barclay the chance, Mela."

"I do like him…" Mela finally said, as she watched Reg. "He is very good with my children. And he is a better father to them now, than Jorge ever was."

An hour later, just as dinner was ending, Marie asked Mela to get the crème brulee for the sweet course from the kitchen. She also sent the twins to help carry in their puddings, too.

Alone for a moment, Marie watched Reg as he gazed at Mela leaving the portico.

"Paris. Definitely Paris, Reg."

Reg turned his head. "Paris?"

"Mela needs to get away and relax. She hasn't seen anything of France yet, other than LaBarre. I think you should take her sightseeing. Go to Paris, Reg."

"I, uh…" he was about to stammer his answer.

"Without the twins and John Luke. I can watch them, if you'd be interested in sweeping Mela away for a long weekend, or a week or three."

"What?"

"You can't spend the rest of your days worshipping from afar. Not that I mind having you around helping in the winery. But you do have to do something, Reg. I know you've played the role of Cyrano de Bergerac. Jean-Luc wrote to me about it a long time ago. But don't make Cyrano your romantic role model. He got the girl and then promptly died. You need to rearrange the order of things a bit."

"I don't know what to do!"

"Play d'Artagnan instead - Les Trois Mousquetaires."

"How?" It was almost a plaintive plea. And Counselor Troi was too far away to ask for help.

Marie supposed that scientific brainy types did tend to have problems with romantic relationships. "Tell you what, Reg. I need to take samples of the new Beaujolais to some of my merchants in Paris. You could take the bottles instead. And ask Mela to go with you."

"I don't know how much time I can take off from Dr. Brahms. And Geordi."

"I'll arrange things with Dr. Brahms. And Geordi. You just work up enough nerve to ask Mela." By his very expression, she knew that Barclay was hoping that Marie would ask Mela for him. But there were some things that Reg was just going to have to do for himself.

After they'd eaten their dessert, and Marie had placed all the children to bed, Marie stayed upstairs leaving Mela and Reg alone. She crossed her fingers.

"Uh, Mela…" Reg was nervously pacing back and forth in the salon, sort of walking in circles around Mela.

Mela didn't mind Reg's hesitancy. She found him rather sweet.

Reg continued. "Marie asked me to do her a favor. She wants me to take some of the new Beaujolais bottles to some of her wine merchants. In Paris. I, uh…"

"What, Mr. Barclay?"

"Please call me Reg!"

"What, Reg?" Her smile was soft and reassuring as she finally did call him Reg. She walked over to him.

"Would you like to come with me? You really should see Paris. It is the most romantic city on Earth…"

Though he was stumbling all about, Mela immediately understood what the real question was. She placed her arms on his shoulders, and then was surprised to discover that he was trembling.

"A trip to Paris sounds wonderful." He almost fainted when she placed a brief kiss against his lips.

From the landing upstairs, Barclay thought he heard someone say in a loud stage whisper, "Un pour tous, tous pour un." With that encouragement, Barclay channeled a little of the self-assurance that he'd gained from his encounter with the Cytherians. He kissed Mela back, this time with more than a hint of passion. And mastery. He pulled Mela into his arms, and kissed her again, this time coaxing her into a more intimate kiss. She responded. Finally, he released her, as his bemused heart began thinking that a Provincial salon in the heart of French wine country, was the most romantic location on Earth. He found the courage to say, "Mela, if you want separate rooms in Paris, you will have them."

Mela looked at him in disbelief. After that kiss, a separate room was the last thing she was thinking about. For it had been so long since anyone had wanted to hold her. Somehow she had failed Reg.

Reg backed away from her, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"If that's what you want, Reg…"

It took him a while to figure out what she'd meant. His eyes widened as he began to realize that Mela was almost as unsure as he was.

He pulled her back into his arms. "Mela, I am not trying to pressure you. One room or two. It's up to you. I'll make arrangements. And I will be happy with whatever you decide. I just want your company."

Taking a very brave chance, she answered, "Then, one, Reg. I think I'd be very happy with one room."

This time when they kissed, they both recognized the alteration in their relationship. They'd gone from friends to lovers.

A long time later, something metallic clanged upstairs. Then the sound of shoes noisily clomping down the stairs could be heard.

Reg and Mela stopped kissing, and then started giggling as Marie made a grand entrance into the salon as if there was nothing unusual about their being in a clinch. Marie's meddling had worked.

"I suggest the Hotel de Vendome. It's exactly the sort of hotel that will impress… my wine merchants." As an afterthought Marie added, "The beds are considered to be very comfortable."

Reg walked over to Marie and picked up her hand. Then he bent over, and gallantly kissed it. He was channeling Cyrano now. "Thank you."

Mela started fanning herself. "It's a bit warm in here." She pointedly looked at Reg. "I think I'd like to take a long moonlight stroll."

Marie whispered into Reg's ear, "Garden, Reg. Take her into the old rose garden."

It took Reg a while to figure out what was Mela was suggesting. "Oh. Right." He offered Mela his arm.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Captain William Riker went in search of Lieutenant Robin Lefler. He didn't have far to go, for he discovered that she was on Utopia Planetia too.

She was as he remembered her. She was full of enthusiasm for her life and for being a Starfleet officer. He wasn't going to have any problem offering her a posting on the Enterprise.

"Captain Riker, come in." She looked toward the living room of her quarters.

"Hello, Lieutenant Lefler. It's good to see you again."

"You're smiling. That means it's good for me to see you too."

Riker was a bit confused by that statement.

"Just nerves, I guess. I always get nervous when a senior officer shows up unannounced." She was relieved that there was nothing wrong with Wes.

She motioned toward the steel grey upholstered sofa, which now was decorated with many turquoise throw pillows. She was trying to cheer the room up.

"I haven't heard from Wes for several days. But I gather that this is a social call, rather than…" Her prattling trailed off as she could see how bewildered Will Riker was looking. "You do know that Wes and I are married, don't you?"

It took a lot to catch Riker unexpected. Learning of Wesley Crusher's marriage to Robin Lefler was one of those times. "Congratulations!" was his immediate response, though he was having a hard time reconciling the young boy he once knew with a now grown up, married man. Riker crossed his legs after he sat down. "I take it that Wes isn't here at the moment?"

'He's on Caldos with his mother. She's been having a hard time of it."

"Yes, I'm not surprised. The way the Barton was attacked, and what she had to do as acting captain and CMO, was a lot of work."

"Oh, I'd meant a hard time with her pregnancy. Beverly is having twins."

Will Riker couldn't have said a word if he'd tried. He was flummoxed.

"Wes did say he'd be back home, pretty soon. Guinan will still be there, to take care of Beverly."

"Actually, one of the reasons as to why I'm here, is that I need to go to Caldos amongst other worlds. I've got use of Woody Nakamura's yacht, and I was wondering if you'd like to pilot it. Tell Wes that we can pick him up."

"Oh that would be great. We've only been married about four weeks. I find that I still actually miss him."

"I'm doing the captain's privilege tour, Mrs. Crusher." Riker grinned as he said her new name. "I'm checking out possible crewmembers for the Enterprise."

"I'd heard that you're finally getting a captain's chair."

"It's official now."

"Congratulations to you too, Captain Riker."

Riker waited to see if she would broach the question. He remembered what she was like as his junior officer. Fearless.

"Well?" Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation.

"I could use you, Lieutenant."

She could barely control her enthusiasm.

"And Wes?"

"Already asked Woody Nakamura. He said no. And that Wes was working on a project for him. But that as soon as it was finished, I could have him."

"Dang it. Wesley is just going to have to finish off his experiments without blowing too much more of the universe up."

Riker restrained himself from laughing.

"Of course, with the way that Wes can come and go, it's not like I'd be missing him too much."

Riker spoke with a touch of levity. "I take it that you're accepting my offer? Intelligence Officer and pilot, by the way. With a promotion to Lieutenant, S.G."

"Would I get married officer's quarters?" For Robin did have a practical side to her nature.

"You help me with picking out some of the crew, and I can guarantee your pick of quarters." Riker caught the look of glee on Robin's face. "And since I do want Lieutenant Commander Crusher on board as soon as possible, I am offering senior officer's quarters."

"Good."

"In the meantime, will you help me and pilot the Mae Jemison for me?"

"When do we leave?"

Riker stood. "Tomorrow. 0600." He briefly hugged Robin, and then whispered, "Wes is a very lucky guy. I hope that you both will be very happy."

Robin's smile was brilliant as she promised to do her best to keep Wes happy.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Geordi sighed with contentment. He just loved the way that Leah said good morning - and good night. He was a very happy man. And judging by the way Leah acted around him, she was pretty happy too.

Dr. Brahms had lived at Utopia Planetia for quite a few years. She didn't just have quarters. She had a home. And Geordi felt as if he could stay here forever.

He missed being on board a starship. For he loved star hopping. But here at the Daystrom, if he had an idea - any kind of an idea no matter how theoretical - no one questioned it. They just asked what he needed. He didn't even have to tell them why. He knew that it was partially because Leah had chosen him as her husband. But he was slowly becoming aware of how many scientists respected his discoveries. On board the Enterprise, his frequent discoveries were somewhat commonplace, something that everyone expected of him. But here, amongst other scientists, he was learning that his opinions were highly valued. And he wouldn't have been human if he weren't enjoying himself.

He scanned the room to see where his wife had gone. Smiling, he got out of bed and walked into their bathroom, opening the shower door.

"We don't have time, Geordi."

"Yes, we do. People expect us to still be in our honeymoon stage."

She reached over and placed a peck on his lips. "May we never outgrow our honeymoon stage."

He stepped into the shower, perfectly willing to scrub his wife's back.

"Yes, but you have to be at the lab to cover for Mr. Data leaving this morning."

"Damn. I forgot." Geordi stepped out of the shower, disappointed.

She followed him out. "Did you forget your Dad was coming today? He finally got his wedding invitation." She started drying herself off. Geordi picked up another towel to help. "I got the impression from his subspace message that our marriage took him by surprise."

"I think what really surprised my Dad was that I got married at all. Until I met you, I was a spectacular failure when it came to women."

"You'd never know it by me." Leah turned around and kissed him. "You just needed someone to really appreciate you, my dear." She swatted his behind. "Now, you'd better get going, or you might get in trouble with your boss. She might be forced to discipline you."

"Promises, promises," he sighed.

She kissed his forehead. "Later."

=/\= =/\= =/\=

On his way to Betazed, Will stopped at G-6. He closed out his office, and then summoned two of his cadets, Bishop and Dunham, and asked if they'd be interested in being posted to the Enterprise after they'd graduated from the Academy. He then promised to join them for a congratulatory beer before he left G-6.

Then he went in search of Deanna.

Will Riker had always loved Betazed gardens. They were beautiful, full of brilliant colors and memorable, sensual perfumes. The many gardens surrounding Lwaxana's mansion were the best and the most beautiful that could be found on Betazed.

And Will didn't mind the company that he was keeping either, as he walked arm-in-arm with Deanna about the grounds. He was concerned though, about her health because Worf was keeping him notified about every important detail of Deanna's pregnancy.

He was so used to thinking of Deanna as a strong and vibrant woman. But her pregnancy was wearing her down. He sensed, rather than by Deanna telling him, how difficult her pregnancy was becoming. Upon arriving on Betazed, he'd noticed that Deanna no longer protested her mother's hovering. That told him more than anything else, about how ill she was feeling.

Deanna guided him toward a bench, under a tall dark tree, overlooking a pond surrounded by the tall pink spikes of the muktok flowers.

They sat there in the shade for a while. Deanna really did need to catch her breath. She could also sense Will's concerns about her health too. He was the only one she could talk to about that. Her mother got too emotional. And Worf didn't need to know everything. Not just yet. He had more important things to do.

Filled with unease, Riker had to voice his concerns. "Deanna, if having my baby endangers your health, know that I want you alive. And if you insist, in Worf's arms…"

She pressed her finger against his lips. "Hush, Will. I chose to have our baby. If things become too difficult, the doctors say that I may place the fetus in stasis until a solution can be discovered."

He pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Deanna, I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you because of me."

"Oh, my dear Will. It isn't you. It's what happened to my body when I bore Ian. I just have to be very careful, that's all."

He kissed her lips again. "But still…"

"Why did you come, Will?"

"Can't husband Number Two visit his wife?"

She laughed. "Mother was very disappointed when she learned that she wouldn't have you around to torment as a son-in-law."

"Well, when you're up to leaving your mother's smothering, I have a job offer for you."

"Do you think that it's wise?"

"I'd like Worf to be my Number Two. And with you on board as a counselor, I can't envision two better officers for the Enterprise E." He grinned. "Or a better solution as to how the three of us will all raise Junior here together." He placed his hand on her tummy.

"It's a viable solution, Will." She smiled up at him before she leaned against his shoulder. "And one day, I'll probably write one heck of a paper on untraditional Klingon/Betazed/Human family dynamics."

"Always willing to help in scientific research, Deanna. And think how entertaining our relationship will be for my crew. It'll keep them busy gossiping for years."

She laughed, but to Will's mind, it was but a pale sounding shadow of how she used to be.

They sat in a close, comfortable position for a while. "Tell me about Wesley Crusher and Robin Lefler."

"Don't know that much. During our flight to Betazed, Robin really didn't talk that much about Wesley." He thought for a moment. "Odd, that. She talked about everything she could chatter about, except Wesley."

"Robin's still madly in love with Wes. Wait until she calms down a bit." Deanna rested her head on Will's comfortable shoulder. "Where do you go from here?"

"On to Caldos. I need to talk to Beverly, and to pick up Wes."

She sensed the sudden seriousness of his mood. "Captain Picard?"

"Things are obviously happening. But I'm still in the dark. I'm going to have to do something about that."

"What?"

"I've been invited to Qo'noS. And I'm going, with Woody Nakamura's permission."

"Tell Captain Picard that I'd like him to be our son's godfather. And Beverly, of course, as his godmother."

"I don't think that Worf will object."

Deanna sighed. "I wish that all of our friends could be our son's godfathers."

"How about honorary uncles?"

"Not a bad idea, Will Riker."

"When the time comes, I'll probably reciprocate the favor."

Deanna was puzzled. "For whom?"

"I take it that you haven't talked with Beverly lately." She shook her head. "Beverly is having twins. A boy and a girl."

"Oh how wonderful." As she came to realize all that this meant, she added, "Oh dear. Poor Beverly." She looked up at Will. "At least I know where you and Worf are. But Beverly can't even try to reach Jean-Luc when she needs him. I'm sure that Starfleet is watching her, waiting to see if she'll get in contact with him."

He pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. "The least I can do is get a message to Captain Picard. And see if she wants him to be told about the twins."

He pressed a another kiss against her lips. "As for you, it's got to be time for your nap." He didn't mention how dark the shadows were underneath her eyes. He stood and picked her up in his arms. "I'm going to carry you back to the house, whether you want me to or not."

"Oh, you are such a gallant gentleman. Pity you're not wearing that red uniform anymore, Will Riker. I always loved you in that uniform." She waved toward the house. "Carry on." Her voice trailed off, as her head nodded. She was exhausted.

As they entered the foyer, for the first time Will Riker got the impression that Lwaxana actually approved of his actions. After Deanna was safely tucked away for her nap, Will went downstairs, very concerned about his Imzadi. He found Lwaxana in the rose salon. She motioned for him to come sit down next to her.

"How is she really, Lwaxana?"

"Deanna has to be very careful, Will. I didn't know about the alien baby. His radiation damaged her. Oh my poor Little One." Lwaxana was close to tears.

"You'll take the best of care for her."

"She's no longer being stubborn, like she used to be. It's as if she's using every little bit of strength that she has left, just to live, Will." This time, she did start crying against Will's broad shoulders. "What I wouldn't give for her to curse at me, again."

Will felt close to crying too.

In a corridor, off the rose salon, Robin listened to their conversation. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but once Will had started talking about Deanna's health, she hadn't wanted to intrude. She wondered if there was anything that her husband could do to help Deanna…

=/\= =/\= =/\=

It had taken five days to finish building the John Luke Galen Clinic. Ro couldn't fault Tom and the way he worked. He went above and beyond his duty to help finish the job.

She also tried not to find hidden meanings behind the way her Bajoran co-workers were treating her. Yet, their attitude towards her was different. They didn't trust her now. Or Jean-Luc Picard.

Riker had been staying on board the Galen, sleeping in the brig that was now turned back into quarters. Every night he'd tried to share her bed, but so far she'd resisted him. And he hadn't pressed the issue, either. The fact that he wasn't complaining was of interest to Ro. He obviously wanted something from her that he didn't want to jeopardize.

Since building the clinic was a dirty, dusty, hot job, both of them quickly went to clean up, when they beamed back aboard the Galen. As Ro was getting dressed for dinner, she finally decided what to do with Tom Riker. And if to get the answers she needed meant having to let Riker into her bed, she'd do it. Though she ruefully acknowledged to herself, it wouldn't be too onerous of a task.

When she came out of her quarters, Riker was already whistling in the kitchen. "Salmon," he announced. "I do a mean teriyaki sauce. Wish I could cook over an open barbecue, though. I think that's the best way to cook salmon."

Ro wasn't sure that she'd ever had salmon before. So, when it came to how it should be cooked, she bowed to Tom's better judgment.

"I've been thinking," she casually announced, as she slumped against the back of the burgundy colored dinette booth.

"What, Ro?"

"I have to go to Ootzey, tomorrow. Want to come with me?"

He froze for a second as he seasoned the fish. He didn't want to appear to be too eager to accept this invitation. "Need a bodyguard, eh?"

"You could say that."

He placed the salmon under the broiler. "Need me as anything else?"

"We'll see. Ootzey is a lot of fun, with the right companion."

"Never been there. What's it like?"

"A true free-trader's city. Dangerous. There's gambling. Drinking. And every vice you'd care to indulge."

"Like luxurious hotel suites?"

"It's possible we might rent one."

He caught her use of we.

"Lots of shopping to be done. You are able to buy anything and everything…"

"And what are you buying, Ro?"

He meant the question as a joke. She answered him seriously. "Quantum torpedoes."

He looked at her in surprise. "For this ship?"

"No. For the Maquis." He was nonplussed. "Tom, someone is selling quantum torpedoes in the DMZ. Their ready access is a danger to every Maquis ship. Every Maquis world. I've got to find out who is selling them, who has them, and what they are going to do with them."

He still looked surprised.

She decided to take the bull by the horns. "And yes, I know I sound like a Starfleet officer. I'm not. But think, Tom. If a quantum torpedo can destroy a Borg ship, imagine what it can do against a defenseless planet. And we all know that the Cardassians have quantum torpedoes. But they aren't manufacturing them. Someone's selling death, Tom. And I've got to help stop them." She stared at him, daring him to denounce her. "You know the power of the quantum torpedo, Tom. I heard that you used them when you stole the Defiant."

He was shaken by her words. He found that he really did believe her. And slowly, he began to wonder if his initial assessment of her relationship with Picard might be in error. That night, he didn't try to seduce her in spite of the fact that Ro really did like his cooking.

The next morning, she was wearing her too tight scarlet cat suit again. As she sat in the captain's chair, plotting their route, Riker joined her.

He whistled, noticing the catsuit.

"You just can't help yourself, can you," she teased.

"I always will notice a beautiful woman, Ro."

"Laren," she corrected.

He didn't have a numerical designation for the smile that he gave her at being permitted to use her first name. "So, Laren, what do you want me to do when we get to Ootzey? What can I do to help you?"

"My main source of contact on Ootzey is a Ferengi, DaiMon Behlk. He's as honest as I keep him." She guided the Galen out of orbit. "So far, he hasn't tried to cheat me or sell me to some Andorian slavers. Hasn't tried to kill me yet, either."

"The company you keep, Laren."

She sent a glance his way. "Don't I know it."

He snorted. "You keep criticizing the hired help, and I just might quit."

"You quit, and you'll never get your pay, Tom."

"What pay?"

"Oh, I thought that I'd surprise you with something at Ootzey."

He was egotistical enough to think that his famous charm, had won her over.

A few hours later, she gave Tom a transponder. "Just in case we have to leave in a hurry." She touched the blood red stone inset into the silver cuff she was wearing. "I've got mine built into my jewelry. I want to keep the Galen cloaked in orbit about a moon. You never know when we might have to leave in a hurry."

"Fine place you're taking me to," he remarked as he walked toward the transporter platform.

"From all the gossip I've heard about the Rikers, Ootzey is exactly your kind of place."

He set the remote transporter controls. "Shall we?" The moment he materialized in Ootzey, Riker looked about and decided that it was his kind of place after all. There was a lawlessness here that he did find appealing.

Ro lead the way into the Mudder, the casino/saloon/hotel/cat house that Behlk owned.

Riker's whistle was low, as he observed the various human, alien, and combination there-of sex acts being displayed on platforms above the bar areas. This was not a place for the timid.

He whistled again as he watched a squat Ferengi come running toward Ro to give her a great big hug. "My favorite Bajoran!" Behlk cried.

Tom wondered just how good a customer Ro was, to get this kind of effusive greeting from a DaiMon.

Ro was a little surprised too. It was the first time he'd ever let himself be seen in public with her. Much less greeting her so enthusiastically.

"Make way, make way!" Behlk cried out, as the crowds parted. Behlk guided them toward his most private, protected set of suites.

They'd barely set foot across the threshold when servants rushed forward with trays of Springwine, Bajoran beer and canapés.

Behlk pointed at a table. "I've got Bajoran shrimp, calvas, deka tea, velklava…" He was nervous as he nodded deferentially to Ro. "And if there is anything else you might desire, you have only but to ask." He then turned his attention to Tom.

Ro picked up a goblet of Springwine and then chose a foraiga canapé. She was amazed at the way that Behlk had greeted her. And rather puzzled. Ferengis were never hospitable without expecting a large profit.

Riker reached for the ale.

Ro remembered her manners. "This is Thomas Riker, DaiMon. He's Maquis. And he works for me. Treat him as you would me."

"Anything for you, Ro Laren, Anything," Behlk readily agreed, flashing his best insincere smile.

"I'd like your best suite." She sent a most seductive smile in Tom's direction. "After we conduct business, Tom and I will be playing for a while."

DaiMon Behlk snapped his fingers. "Done. Take their luggage to the Nagus Suite."

Tom nodded toward the bags that had been dropped by the door.

"Would you take them up to our suite, Tom?"

Not exactly sure what Ro was up to, Tom willingly complied. Not that he was carrying their luggage. Three Ferengi servants rushed forward to take the two bags up to the suite. Tom followed them, amused. He was enjoying Ro's performance. And though he wasn't quite ready to admit it to himself, he was beginning to be impressed by her, too.

Ro picked the grandest chair in the room, sat down, and did not shudder as the gilded carved woods and inset jewels of the chair sharply poked into her back.

"So, how go my accounts in the Nagus Banks?"

DaiMon Behlk dismissed his servants, then handed Ro his padd.

Her eyes widened a little, as she read the totals. No wonder Behlk was fawning over her. Someone had added over nineteen million latinum bars to Jean-Luc's account. She could only think that it had been Data.

"What do you wish, Ro Laren?"

"I want quantum torpedoes, DaiMon Behlk. Can you get them?"

His big lobes twitched. He was torn between the danger and the profit. But a DaiMon always would choose the profit.

"How many do you want, Ro Laren?"

"All of them. As many as you can buy." She paused as if she'd just thought of something else. "And even if you can't buy all of them, I need to know who else has bought them recently - say within the past year."

Behlk studied his client. There was something going on besides the obvious. He was going to have to charge double. He thought of the size of her bank account. Maybe he'd charge quadruple.

"When do you wish to know?"

"As soon as possible. Sometime tomorrow at the earliest. Tonight, Tom and I are going to have some fun."

"As you wish, Ro Laren."

A servant guided her way to the Nagus Suite.

Tom was seated on the bed, waiting for her.

She had no doubt as to what the expectant gleam in his eye meant. She also tried not to shudder at the thought of having sex in rooms covered with purple, orange and bright pink fabrics. And copulating naked figural table lamps that dripped flaming oil.

"I'm going to change into something more suitable for our night on the town." She was a bit nervous, now. "I'm hungry, aren't you?"

He walked up behind her, and put his arms about her waist. "Oh yes, Ro Laren. I am hungry too." He pulled her against his body, as if to remind her that he most definitely was a virile man. And now, a very hungry, aroused man. "Why did Behlk treat you like you were his number one client?" He nuzzled her neck, not really waiting for an answer.

"Someone increased the money in my Bank of Nagus accounts." She shuddered as he nibbled on her lobe. She still couldn't understand why one touch from him aroused her so quickly. " I have a pretty good idea who did it. But I'm not quite sure as to the why of it."

"Let's find out, tomorrow."

He nuzzled her neck again, even as he slowly traced every rib, carefully moving towards his goal of the zipper tassel to the catsuit.

She knew what he was doing. She let him do it.

Seconds later his right hand, slipped between the edges of her zipper. He wasn't surprised to discover that now he was fingering nothing but velvety soft flesh. Her moan was low as he massaged her breast. He knew what he was doing…

She turned in his arms to kiss him. Within seconds, their kiss flared into a lover's mating ritual. Tongues entangled. She couldn't get enough of the taste of him. Any faint thought of resisting Tom was quickly vanishing. She held on to him as she suddenly jumped up and wrapped her strong legs around his hips. She began to rhythmically move against him, wishing that her clothes could instantly disappear.

Riker had not expected this kind of blazing sensual response from Ro. And certainly not so swiftly. He was lost from the moment she surrendered.

And neither one of them heard the door silently swing open to the suite.

It wasn't until they both heard the sound of phasers firing that they knew how much in trouble they were.

tbc