DISCLAIMER: Paramount's characters, not mine, alas. Author's notes at the end. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NOT GOOD, NOT GOOD AT ALL by TrexPhile March 2002 "Naked?" The cup of Earl Grey stopped part way to his lips. "Yes, sir. You knew that, didn't you?" Picard set the cup down askew on the saucer, sloshing the hot liquid. He regarded his first officer with what he hoped was a passive expression, one that wouldn't betray the sudden nauseous quiver in his stomach. ---- "Naked?" The tricorder started slipping from her fingers. "Well, yes. You knew that, didn't you?" Fingers fumbling, Beverly managed to catch the newly configured tricorder before it dropped to her office floor. She avoided the counselor's questioning gaze and placed the device on the shelf, her throat suddenly quite dry and heart thudding. ---- "I assumed," Riker continued, "that you were familiar with Betazoid wedding tradition." Jean-Luc cleared his throat and managed to set his cup down in the center of the saucer without spilling any more. "Yes, Will, I am familiar with those traditions. I just... I wasn't aware that you and Deanna had decided on a traditional Betazoid ceremony. Last I'd heard, you were planning a Terran civil ceremony." Riker grinned. "With Lwaxana at the helm? We persuaded her into making a couple of changes, but overall..." He shrugged. "It really doesn't matter one way or another to me. As long as Deanna's happy, I'll go along with anything." Jean-Luc sipped at his tea, feigning nonchalance. This was not good. Not good at all. "So, what is my role in all of this?" Riker's brow wrinkled. "Um... best man, sir. As we discussed. The Betazoid tradition calls for the groom's family to stand up with him, but since my situation is... I would be honored--" "Yes, yes, of course, Will," Jean-Luc interrupted. "I hadn't forgotten. I just..." He cleared his throat. "The wedding party -- the entire wedding party -- is naked. Yes, I see. And who else will be participating?" "Traditionally, the groom's family -- that would be you -- and the bride's attendant. Deanna is asking Beverly to stand up with her. I'm sure she'll accept." "Beverly?" He was appalled by how his voice squeaked. Riker smiled, obviously oblivious to his captain's anguish. "Well, I'll get back to my post. Thank you, sir." Jean-Luc managed to nod, his stomach roiling. As soon as the doors closed, he raced to the head. He stared in the mirror, tap running, water dripping from his face. "Oh my god..." he squeaked. ---- "You know about traditional Betazoid wedding ceremonies, right?" Beverly turned and smiled at her friend. "Of course I do, Deanna. Who can forget that incident with that man your mother almost married. What was his name?... um... you know... that tall guy that was so conservative, not a good match for your mother, no, not at all... what *was* his name?..." She could hear herself babbling but couldn't seem to stop herself. This was not good. Not good at all. "Minister Campio," Deanna said. "Yes, him. Anyway..." She attempted a casual pose, propping a hip against the edge of her desk. Good desk. Nice, solid desk. "So... matron of honor. Wow." She took a deep breath. She really needed to control her emotions. After all, she was in the presence of a woman who could read her emotional state as easily as reading a PADD. What was wrong with her anyway? She'd never had a problem with nudity, especially in a situation like this where it was the norm. Deanna looked at her warily. "Do you accept?" "Of course I do!" Shoving aside her reticence, she laid a hand on Deanna's shoulder. "I am honored that you asked me." "Really?" Deanna looked relieved. Beverly was suddenly quite sure of herself. "Really." Deanna beamed and hugged Beverly briefly. "You've been my best friend for a long time, Beverly. I wouldn't want anyone else standing up for me." Tears welled in her black eyes. Sincerely touched, Beverly hugged her again. "Thank you, Deanna. It's going to be a beautiful ceremony." Deanna pulled away. "Well, I'd better get back to my office. Lots of appointments this afternoon." She headed for the door. Beverly called out after her. "There is a best man, right? Like in Terran ceremonies? Someone to escort me and stand up for Will?" Deanna turned back and smiled as the doors opened. "Yes. Will's asking the captain to stand in where his parents normally would. I'm sure he'll accept. See you later!" The passed through the doorway and the doors whooshed shut. Beverly froze, smile paralyzed on her lips. "Oh my god..." she squeaked. ---- Deanna snuggled up next to Will on the couch. He draped his arm across her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "All finished?" he asked. "I hope so. Mother's taking care of the caterer and the florist. She booked the chapel last week and she's having a 'special friend' perform the ceremony. Don't ask me who, but I'm sure that it's someone whose status befits the daughter of someone of her regal standing." She grinned up at him. "So," he said, "I guess we've done our part." "Yeah. Oh!" She sat up straight. "Did you ask the captain?" "Yes, I did, and he agreed." Will looked off at the far wall. "I was surprised at his quick acceptance, actually." "Why? He's the perfect choice." Will grinned at her. "Yes, but there *is* that little issue of nudity. He seemed slightly flustered when I reminded him of that, but only for a moment." "You don't think he'll have a problem being nude in public?" Riker shook his head. "Nah. He's changed a lot since I first met him. Fifteen years ago? He never would have done it." He looked down as she snuggled against his chest again. "You asked Beverly?" She nodded. "She'll do it. Her reaction was the same as the captain's -- hesitant at first, but she said yes. Oh Will." She sighed into his shirt. "I'm glad everything's working out like this." "Me too." He stroked her hair, then raised her face up to his. "It's going to be perfect. Don't worry about anything." ---- Beverly stood before her full-length mirror, arms folded across the closure of her robe. "Well, you can't put this off any longer," she muttered, and with quick fingers, she loosened the sash and flung the robe off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She sighed at what she saw. She was in remarkable shape for a fifty-three year old woman, but there were still definite signs of age, *normal* signs. She cupped her bare breasts in her hands and lifted them, then let them droop again. She'd never considered having them surgically altered or enhanced. They were just breasts, after all, and they were supposed to sag with age. It was normal, dammit. But she'd never considered walking around nude in front of a crowd of people either. Especially when one of those people was... She shook one of her legs, watching the thigh muscles jiggle. She hadn't been working out like she used to. There just hadn't been enough time. She turned sideways and groaned. Where had her butt gone? She sucked in her gut. Well, that was a little better. At least her stomach muscles still worked. She poked at her belly. It jiggled just a bit. This was not good. Not good at all. Shrugging back into her robe, she sat at her desk and checked her upcoming schedule. The wedding was in a month. She scrolled through the days leading up to it. With some juggling, she should be able to schedule two workouts a day, an hour each. Her confidence building again, she switched off her monitor. In a month's time, with hard work, she should be back in shape and ready to take her place proudly by Deanna's side. And by Jean-Luc's side. She stared at the blank monitor, chewing on her lip. No, it would be fine. It would all work out. As long as nothing unexpected came up. Like a Romulan attack. Or some plague that kept her working for twenty-four hour days. She glanced over at the medikit she always kept on her desk. If worst came to worst, there were other means... Disgusted, she pushed away from the desk and went off to bed. ---- Jean-Luc grunted and blinked as sweat dribbled into his left eye. Just one more rep. That's all he needed. Arm muscles bulging with the strain, he pulled against the resistance, body shaking with the effort to bring his hands together in front of his chest. Slowly, muscles screaming, he pulled until his clenched fists almost met, then whooshed out a breath as he released the tension. He dropped the handles and stood, head down and panting. He watched two drops of sweat plop down between his feet. After a moment, he moved away from the apparatus and grabbed a towel from his bag. He stood for a moment after wiping his face and head and stared into the full-length mirror. His arms were bulked up nicely but he knew that wouldn't last. They would relax into their normal state soon. Too bad. He had a fleeting vision of himself pumping barbells in the nude right before making his entrance at the wedding. Maybe there would be a restroom close by the entrance that he could pop into... Of course, he'd have to find some place to hide the barbells. It wasn't like he'd have a coat to hide them in... "Foolishness," he muttered and turned away from the mirror. He'd thought about aging, of course. It would be unusual if, after seventy-two years, he had never thought of it. But he'd always feared the deterioration of his mind, not his body. His chance of developing Irumodic Syndrome was slight, granted, but he'd never fully shaken the memories of confusion and frustration he'd experienced in Q's fabricated future. But now he was dealing with something very different, something very real. He was going to be on display, in so many words, without the normalcy of a uniform or any type of clothing. Exposed, vulnerable. He was not ashamed to be nude, that wasn't it at all. It was just... He turned back toward the mirror and approached it slowly. He flexed one arm, satisfied by the bulge that appeared in his biceps. Unfortunately, he couldn't walk around with his arms flexed all the time. His forearms were fine, thick enough. His legs... he stepped back and frowned at the reflection. In his youth, they were well-muscled, well-formed, almost too developed to match the rest of his body. They were still shaped well enough but they'd definitely thinned. He must work on them tomorrow. He put his hands on his spandex-clad hips, then turned sideways. Amazing how men's asses seemed to just erode away over the years. Standing straighter, he tightened his buttocks. They didn't budge. Turning his back to the mirror, he twisted and peered as well as he could over his shoulder. Well, his butt was still there. Just barely. When he turned back around, his eye caught something in the mirror and he moved closer to investigate. "Damn..." he whispered, running his fingers down his neck, massaging the loose skin. He could lift weights until he couldn't squeeze through a door but no amount of exercise would transform his... turkey neck. It was an unfortunate result of age, gravity and genetics. There was nothing to be done. Well, there actually *was* something that could be done but he didn't have the surgical instruments to do it himself. Or the know-how. He'd be damned before he'd let any of the medical personnel think he was vain enough to... "Foolishness," he muttered again, and strode over to his bag. This was all so ridiculous, it really was. It didn't matter how he looked in the nude. The Betazoid wedding guests certainly weren't going to mind -- they were all quite accustomed to it all. And he knew -- well, he assumed -- that he was fitter than Will. Well, they were built differently anyway. There really was nothing to worry about. No one was going to be judging or comparing. It was supposed to be a joyous event, celebrating the joining of two people in marriage. He would participate in the ceremony as he'd promised. He wouldn't angst over his appearance. Everything would be fine. He threw on loose pants and top and picked up his bag, feeling better already, and made his way to the holodeck door. "Computer, end program," he said, causing the room to return to its neutral state. When the doors opened, he rushed through them. And collided with a body. "Pardon me, I-- Beverly!" She bent over to pick up the bag that he'd knocked from her shoulder. "Jean- Luc, sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here. The gyms were being used, and I was wanting to work out in private..." She trailed off, her face reddening inexplicably. "Yes, I know. I mean, I know that the gyms are full right now. That's why I was..." He stopped too, suddenly tongue-tied. "Well," she replied, and stepped through the doors. "I'll, uh... see you later." The doors closed as she moved inside. "Yes, later," he said belatedly. He frowned at the doors for a moment, then set off toward the turbolift. As the 'lift began moving, he remembered that Beverly was supposed to have dinner with him. In ten minutes. He'd forgotten about it as had she, he supposed. No matter, he decided. He would have time to soak in a hot tub now. He winced as he stretched his right arm. He dreaded morning -- he knew that he was going to wake up in pain. This was not good. Not good at all. ---- "I'm concerned about Beverly." Will looked up from his plate. "What's up?" Deanna rested her chin in her hand. "I'm sensing a lot of tension in her. She's cancelled lunch twice this week, and she hasn't joined me to work out at all. And when I asked her about it, she tensed up to the point of panic and gave me some excuse about being too busy." Will shrugged and forked a piece of salmon into his mouth. "Maybe work is stressing her out." "That's just it." Deanna sat up, brows furrowed. "There's nothing going on. Alyssa told me that it's strictly routine in sickbay right now. 'Boring' is how she put it. And she also said that Beverly hasn't been there much -- just enough to take care of routine maintenance." Will looked thoughtful as he chewed. "Why don't you ask Beverly about it? Up front?" Deanna gave him a look. "You know Beverly -- she doesn't volunteer *anything.* She's as bad as the captain when it comes to sharing her feelings." Will snickered and picked up his iced tea. "True. And speaking of the captain, he's been pretty distant too. Even more so than usual." Will paused, glass poised at his lips. "He's been walking strangely too." "*Walking* strangely?" "Yeah. Kinda... stiffly. Like something hurts." He took a gulp of tea. "That doesn't sound good. Have you asked him about it?" Will looked up, mouth full. "Are you kidding? 'I'm fine, Number One. Not to worry.'" Deanna giggled. Will did an excellent Picard impression, which was even funnier when muffled by a mouthful of salmon. She picked up her fork. "They're grownups," she said. "If there's something wrong, they'll deal with it, I suppose." Will just nodded in reply and continued eating. ---- Her room was interesting but somehow pleasing, decorated in brassy colors with lots of cushions and comfortable furniture, but Beverly was too busy pacing to take advantage of it all. She stopped by the window and stared out. Lwaxana's grounds were lovely, immaculately groomed and colorful with Betazoid flora. The spires of the city rose up on the horizon, their lines muted by distance and the waning sunshine. But Beverly saw none of it -- one thought kept repeating over and over in her mind: "In an hour, I'll be naked. In front of Jean-Luc." It was not exactly the scenario she'd envisioned when she'd imagined being unclothed before him. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. She knew she was being irrational and immature about the whole situation, that she should be focusing on her friends' joy, that she was too old for such modesty, too old to give a damn. But her emotions were betraying her logic. It was damn depressing. Perhaps if her plans hadn't been shot to hell, she'd at least feel that she'd done all she could to improve her physical self. But one "crisis" after another had intervened in the last two weeks, stealing away her free time, and now The Day was here, leaving her standing by a window in Lwaxana Troi's eccentrically appointed home and hoping for an attack of the Tellarian flu to strike her down. A knock at the door startled her. "Who is it?" she called out, suddenly too tired to walk across the room. "It's me, Bev. Can I come in?" Beverly hurried over and opened the door, revealing a pale-faced Deanna. "Come in, of course." She held the door as Deanna rushed past her. "Are you okay? You look a bit peaked." "Oh, just nerves," Deanna fluttered, sitting on the edge of the monstrous bed. "I think they're typical for a bride. Well." She folded her hands in her lap. "Are you ready?" Beverly shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." She motioned to her simple floor-length gown. "It's not like I'm supposed to be dressed for the occasion." Deanna smiled. "Well, you do want to look nice for the reception. And you look beautiful, as always. Very glamorous." "Well," Beverly muttered, "we'll see how 'glamorous' I look once I take this dress off." Deanna tilted her head. "You're not worrying about that, are you, Bev? There's nothing to be ashamed of, and your beauty -- how does it go? -- is deeper than your skin." "You sound like Data," Beverly said, grinning. She looked away. "I just wish you'd done this twenty years ago. I'd've been a lot more comfortable in my thirty-three year old skin." "I didn't know you twenty years ago." "You know what I mean." Deanna hopped off the bed and gave Beverly a quick hug. "Don't worry about it. You won't be the oldest naked person there -- my mother will be there, for one, and friends of the family." She moved toward the door. "And Captain Picard, of course." She waved as she opened the door. "I'll see you in an hour!" "I feel so much better," Beverly mumbled. "Thanks for reminding me that Jean- Luc will be there to see--" Her mouth dropped open. "Oh... OH." She sat down on the bed, her knees suddenly too shaky to support her. She had been so obsessed with dreading her nude debut with Jean-Luc as an audience member that she hadn't considered that he was a *participant* as well. How could she have overlooked that major detail? She snorted. "Major detail" - - yeah, I *bet* it's major. She dropped her face into her hands. This was not good. Not good at all. What was that line from that really old 20th century film? "I don't like seeing my friends naked -- it makes it hard to have dinner with them later." Of course, Jean-Luc was more than just a friend. She couldn't deny that. Despite her logical self arguing time and again that they were "just friends," her emotional self had to disagree. She cared about Jean-Luc. Deeply. In ways that colored her dreams sometimes. She closed her eyes and wondered if she would be able to stand again. ---- "When do I, um, disrobe?" "Right before we enter will be fine." "Ah." Jean-Luc shifted his weight back and forth. He hadn't looked at his first officer since he'd entered the small chamber. Not since he'd first arrived and glanced over to see that Will was already... well, he was the bridegroom, after all. "It's almost time," Will said. "I wonder where Beverly is?" Jean-Luc's gut wrenched but he kept his face neutral -- and facing straight ahead. Through the open door, he could see a large number of Betazoids milling about and finding seats. Most were already unclothed; some were undressing and hanging their clothing in the alcoves that lined the walls of the chapel. Everyone seemed relaxed and strangely quiet. Well, it was a Betazoid gathering, after all. They were most likely communicating telepathically. "She should be here by now," Will continued. "I wonder what's keeping her." "Probably trying to get her hair just right." Jean-Luc tried to sound jovial and relaxed. "And her dress is probab..." His stomach twisted again and a groan almost escaped. He could feel Will looking at him. Dress? What was he saying? Beverly wouldn't be dressed either. Cold sweat broke out on his brow as the realization hit him hard. All this time he'd been focused on his own appearance, lamenting his lack of workout time, futilely massaging his neck, and he'd failed to remember that Beverly would be just as naked as he. Merde. "Will!" The word burst out of his throat much louder than he'd intended. "Yes, sir?" "We didn't have any sort of rehearsal and I need to clarify something. Will I be escorting Beverly down the aisle?" "No, sir. You'll walk with me. Beverly will come in after we've taken our places, and then she'll call Deanna from the audience." Ah. Well, that wouldn't be so bad then. "Don't worry, sir," Will said, leaning in. "The ceremony will be brief." "Of course, Number One. It will all be fine, I'm sure." A drop of sweat trickled down his neck. Just then the chamber door burst open and he turned to see Beverly hurrying in. "Sorry I'm late," she said, her wide eyes darting over to Will, then back to Jean-Luc. "No problem, Beverly," Will said. "Are we ready?" He smiled and turned back to look over the assembled throng. Jean-Luc and Beverly looked at each other. "Hi," she said. "How are you?" "Fine," he answered. They both looked away. Will turned and raised an eyebrow. "Um, it's time." "Yes, yes, of course," Jean-Luc responded and took hold of the top button of his shirt. ---- Beverly stood for a moment staring at Jean-Luc until she realized that he was removing his shirt. Blushing, she turned away. She wished there was a curtain, another room, anywhere else she could disrobe but there was none. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her shoes, then she reached behind and unfastened the closure of her dress. Another deep breath and in one swift motion, she pulled the dress off her shoulders and stepped out of it. Looking around, she found a peg from which to hang it, then, moving as quickly as possible, she unhooked her bra and removed her underwear. Pausing a moment, she finally hung both garments on the hook. She closed her eyes, still facing away from the open doorway. 'Okay. This is it,' she said to herself and turned around. And saw two very naked male butts. And those butts were moving away from her. She didn't have time to think. She glanced at her face in the mirror beside the doorway, checking her makeup and hair. She wished fleetingly that she had a bouquet to carry -- a really big bouquet -- as she stepped into the doorway. The butts were halfway down the aisle. When they reached the front of the room and turned, it would be her cue to begin her processional. The chapel was beautifully decorated, flowers and plants everywhere, a large fountain flowing musically at the front. Every seat was filled and the audience was hushed in expectant appreciation of the ceremony. But Beverly saw none of that. Her eyes were glued on one of the receding butts. It was a very nice butt. Small and well-formed. Quite muscular, actually. She watched it intently as it moved away from her, her eyes following as it moved up even with the first row of seats and then disappeared from sight as it crossed in front of the people seated there. She was startled as she raised her gaze to see Jean-Luc's face staring back at her. She took a cleansing breath, raised her chin and stepped forward. ---- So far, so good. He was more relaxed now, realizing that Will's words were true -- when everyone else is as nude as you are, you don't feel nude at all. Hands behind his back, feet firmly planted, he faced the audience. He was beginning to feel quite comfortable now, yes indeed. He smiled just a bit and looked toward the open doorway at the back where a tall figure was silhouetted. The figure began to move and his heart stuttered. 'Where do I look??' he thought frantically. 'At the audience? At her? Oh merde, merde. Focus on her face, just her face.' The back row was turning to see Beverly as she walked past them. Jean-Luc felt a flash of anger and was surprised by it. They were staring at her, unabashedly leering at her nude figure! His jaw clenched and he focused on the back wall. He would at least show some restraint, some dignity. *He* wouldn't stare. He heard something from the front row and automatically looked down. Deanna was there in her prescribed spot, naked of course, hair pulled back in a white band. She was twisted slightly in her seat, smiling as she watched her best friend make her way to the front. He couldn't help himself. He looked too. She was beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a white band like Deanna's but wisps had escaped, framing her regal but tense face. Without thinking, he scanned the rest of her and delighted in what he saw. Her skin seemed translucent, pale and smooth. Long legs, lusciously long. Her fingertips grazed a bare thigh as they swung just slightly with her proud stride, and he shivered, feeling those fingers on his own thigh. Such long lines, so well- balanced, just right, perfectly feminine. He swallowed, feeling heat rise to his face and looked at her face as she reached the first row. She was looking straight back at him. He looked away, ashamed, as she took her place on the other side of Will. "I summon you to the place of marriage." They were the first words that had been spoken, and he was startled to hear Beverly's voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slender white arm extended and beckoning the bride to join them. He heard a muffled sob and a moaned "Oh, my little one," and saw Lwaxana beside Deanna, hands clasped in front of her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. Deanna hugged her mother, then stood, and he watched her step up beside Will, both smiling so hard that their faces looked as if they might split in half. They all turned and faced the clergyman -- who was naked as well -- and he found himself positioned so that he was angled in somewhat. And where he could see Beverly fully, standing on the other side of Deanna. ---- 'That wasn't so bad,' Beverly thought, 'and it's much better now that I have my back to the audience.' She kept her head up and eyes focused on the clergyman who was now chanting something in ancient Betaza. She could see that Deanna was already crying and Will kept clearing his throat. Amused, she ducked her head just a bit and smiled, then looked farther over to her left. She could see him. All of him. He was angled inward and she could see everything. Well, almost everything. He had his hands clasped at his groin, covering it. She looked away, her throat suddenly dry. *Almost* covering it. She felt the blood rush to her face. His hands were large but they still weren't large enough to totally conceal.... oh my. Feeling brazen, she peeked again. His chest was covered with a generous amount of silvery curly hair. She wondered what it felt like, thinking that she would prefer it to be coarse, not soft. Coarse, thick, manly. His forearms were hairy as well, she saw, and she could see the muscles and veins stretching the skin. Her gaze moved up his arms to his shoulder and she held her breath as she admired the inherent strength lying just beneath the skin. Strong arms, arms that would feel so good wrapped around her, lifting her, pressing her against a wall as he... She snapped her gaze back to the clergyman's face. Focus. Must focus. ---- He couldn't understand a word of what was being said and his attention wandered, his eyes following. She was standing very still, hands clasped in front of her, head down just a bit. And was she smiling? Well, of course she was. This was a wedding, after all -- a joyous occasion. Her eyes were focused on the clergyman's face so he took the opportunity to look at her again. He almost smiled as he realized that yes, she was definitely a true redhead. Well, he'd never doubted that. Her arms were pressing against the sides of her breasts, pushing them together, and from this angle they seemed fuller than he'd expected, tipped in rosy points almost the same shade as her hair. They were a perfect size, he decided, just right for her slim figure. He wondered what they would feel like in his hands, wondered how large her nipples would grow when teased.... He felt a twitch beneath his hands and was instantly appalled. Good god, he couldn't let this happen. He was *naked.* He was supposed to be a dignified Starfleet captain standing witness to his first officer's wedding, and instead he was ogling his CMO and thinking inappropriate thoughts. Never mind that she was naked. Everyone else was too. He was disgusted with himself. What was that old phrase? "Think of England"? Yes, that would do it. No, it wouldn't. He'd had a very... memorable encounter with a young lady during a trip to England right before he'd entered the academy. Bad choice. Definitely. What else? Ferengi teeth. That was pretty bad. Worf's body odor after a hard workout. Yes, that would do. He felt himself relax as he focused on the clergyman's face and thought of mashing a boil on a Cardassian's neck. ---- Beverly was tired of standing and tired of feeling so exposed. She wanted to unclasp her hands and stretch her arms and sit down somewhere. She wondered how Jean-Luc was holding up. She could see that he was watching the clergyman's face closely. Maybe he understood Betaza. She took another opportunity to check him out. His hands were still performing genital guard duty but she could still see enough to make her want to lick her lips. 'I wonder if he's a grower or a shower,' she thought suddenly and felt a delirious giggle expanding her chest. If he was a grower, well... DAMN. Her gaze flicked up to his face and she felt a cold wave paralyze her. His eyes were moving up and down her body. He was no longer frowning. His lips were just slightly parted and just barely curving upward as if he were about to speak or smile. She stood stock-still, her eyes riveted on his face. And then he was looking straight into her eyes. Neither broke away. She raised an eyebrow at him. ---- She had caught him. He should reclaim the shreds of his dignity and look away but he was incapable of doing so. She had speared him with her gaze and he was irretrievably caught. Captured. Dangling helplessly from the hook of her impending wrath. He was a dead man. ---- She was going to lose it. Right there in front of everybody. It was his expression, that look of absolute naked terror, something she had never expected to ever see on Jean-Luc Picard's face. And all because she'd caught him looking at her titties. It was just too funny. She felt her mouth quivering and she bit down hard on her upper lip. But it was no use. Her lips spread until she was smiling full on at him. ---- She was *smiling* at him. He couldn't believe it. What... what did that mean? Hesitantly, he returned the smile. ---- She glanced over at Will and Deanna. They were totally caught up in each other and the clergyman's words, oblivious to the people beside them. Beverly looked at Jean-Luc again, still smiling. She made sure he was watching, and then she looked pointedly at his groin. Raising her eyes slowly back up to his face, she raised her right hand just a bit and gave him a thumbs-up signal. His blush was charming, and she was forced to clench her lips together to keep from giggling aloud. ---- Jean-Luc recovered quickly. He tilted his head slightly and let his gaze stroll down her neck, stopping at her breasts, then downward, down and across, casually and carefully, until he reached her feet. His eyes roamed back up and refocused on her face. Her mouth was open just a bit, eyes sparkling, and her head was tilted back ever so slightly as if she was willingly offering herself up for his consideration. With a devilish grin, he lifted his fingertips to his lips to kiss them in the traditional French expression of approval. She could even hear the quiet "mwah" sound he made. It was her turn to blush. Obediently, they returned their attention to the ceremony which seemed to be finally near conclusion. But they still looked sideways at each other, smiling the whole time, and, totally comfortable now, let their eyes roam where they may. The clergyman stepped back and said, in his first words in Standard, "The couple is now married." "Well done!" Jean-Luc exclaimed, applauding. Everyone else joined in. The new couple turned to acknowledge the applause of the guests, and Beverly and Jean-Luc moved in to stand behind them, clapping as they beamed at each other. ---- "More comfortable now?" Beverly looked up from her drink as Jean-Luc settled himself into the chair beside her. "Yes. Definitely. I see that you're back in your clothes as well." "Yes, that's the first thing I did." He clasped his hands on the tabletop, leaning on his elbows. She smiled. "Me too." "You didn't catch the hair band." "No, I didn't. But then, I wasn't trying very hard to catch it." "What's the significance of the bride tossing it? The woman who catches it will marry next?" Beverly took a sip of her drink. "No, it means that for whomever catches it, the 'love of her life' will be at the ceremony." She studied the swirls of orange and red in her glass. "Ah," Jean-Luc said. She could feel his eyes on her. "I gather," he continued, "that you don't put much stock in such traditions." She shrugged, swirling the colored alcohol in the glass. "It's not that. Traditions can be charming. I-- well, let's just say that I don't need a hair band to tell me who the love of my life might be." She looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling, his expression soft. "No, I suppose we're both too old and jaded for that sort of foolishness." "Quite right, captain. I prefer to make those determinations myself." "I don't know -- I think sometimes, such traditions can be just the incentive that some people need." She raised an eyebrow at him. He rose and offered his hand. "Would you like to take a walk with me? There's no moon, of course, but the grounds are beautifully lit." She took his hand and stood. "I would like that very much, Jean-Luc." They strolled through the grounds arm in arm. There were other couples and small groups scattered about, all Betazoid judging by their silent communication. Beverly soaked up the peaceful quiet of their surroundings and the solid warmth of the man beside her. They approached a low stone wall that marked the perimeter. Resting their forearms on its uneven cool surface, they looked out at the city below. "I was nervous about the ceremony," Jean-Luc said. She ducked her head and smiled. "I was too. I was afraid-- I was nervous about being naked like that in front of so many people." He didn't answer right away. She looked over at him and felt something inside her melt at the sight of his proud profile silhouetted against the deep purple horizon. He really was magnificent. "I was..." His lips hardly moved and his voice was so soft she could barely hear it. "I was nervous about being naked in front of you." Her heart fluttered in her throat. "I know. So was I. I didn't want you to see me, see how... old and imperfect I am." He turned, his expression one of surprise. "Imperfect? Beverly, how-- I don't expect you to be 'perfect.' And as for 'old,' well... let's not forget that I'm nineteen years your senior. I am, conceivably, old enough to be your father. 'Old' is not a term I would use to describe you." She was smiling again. "All right, I grant you that, Jean-Luc, but you must admit -- I'm no longer in the prime of youth. Exposing my... 'imperfections' to you so publicly wasn't how I'd hoped you'd see me the first time." His eyebrow shot up and she felt her cheeks burning. "That's not quite what I meant, Jean-Luc... What I mean is that we've been friends for so long and out of everyone there, your opinion is the one that matters most to me. And it wasn't the best... scenario for that sort of thing, you know?" She stopped, flustered, and stared out at the city. "I think you're stunning," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "Clothed, unclothed, it doesn't matter. You still take my breath away." She swallowed hard, the lights of the city suddenly swimming before her eyes. Screwing up her courage, she turned to face him. "Thank you," she whispered and reached out to touch his cheek. He smiled back at her, then opened his arms. She stepped into his embrace and shivered as she felt those strong arms encircle her and press her into his warmth. She thought of the other things she'd imagined those arms doing and smiled against his neck. Pulling away, she placed a soft, brief kiss on his lips. "I was thinking of something, Jean-Luc." "Yes, Beverly?" His reply was soft. She placed her hand on his elbow and began leading him away from the wall. "Well, since neither of us was thrilled about the circumstances of the ceremony -- you know, being naked that way -- I was thinking that we should try it again under more controlled circumstances. Without so many others present. Lwaxana's house is a bit crowded, but your room is right next to mine and I'm sure that privacy won't be a problem." He stopped abruptly causing her to stop as well. "Beverly, I-- are you saying-- " "And," she continued, "if you need some incentive, I can have Deanna throw the hair band again." She gave him a devilish look. "And I'd make sure that she threw it straight to me." His mouth stayed open in surprise for only a moment longer, then he chuckled. Drawing her into his arms again, he placed his lips against her ear and murmured, "I think I have plenty of incentive right here." She pressed her body against his, rocking her pelvis just slightly. "More than enough, from what I can tell." His chuckle ended in a soft moan. Fumbling in his pocket, he withdrew a commbadge. "Forget Lwaxana's," he said, grinning, then pressed the badge. "Enterprise. Two to beam directly to the captain's quarters." They disappeared in a shimmer of blue sparkles. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ AUTHOR'S NOTES: Many thanks to all you #BONCers for your enthusiasm, support and answers to my frantic questions while I wrote this. And KK, my little gelfling: Your beta is the best. Ain't none better or more discerning or more honest. Or funnier Many kissies, and better cover up that third titty. I think Jean-Luc is leering at it.