From: A.Martens@mail.utexas.edu (Allison M. Martens)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: TNG STORY: THE FAVOR 1/3 (P/C)
Date: Wed, 14 Jun 1995 18:49:30 -0600

Hi everybody. Well here is my latest Picard/Crusher effort. Reader
beware, there is no technobabble, no space battles, no machismo to be
had!! I hope you all enjoy this little bit of nothing. Comments are
always welcome and appreciated at A.Martens@mail.utexas.edu

THE FAVOR by Allison Martens

PARAMOUNT OWNS EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN
THIS STORY, HOWEVER THE STORY BELONGS TO ME.
THIS IS FAN FICTION, AND IS PRODUCED SOLELY FOR MY
AMUSEMENT, AND YOURS. IT IS NOT TO BE
REPRODUCED FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES. FEEL FREE
TO PASS THIS STORY ALONG TO YOUR FRIENDS, BUT
PLEASE DO NOT SEPARATE IT FROM MY NAME AND THIS
MESSAGE.

Author's Note: This story takes place in the seventh season of The
Next Generation. It comes after 'Attached' but before 'All Good
Things.' Obviously it diverts into its own little Trek timeline.

Part 1

The Request

Jean-Luc stared down at the invitation once more. He simply shook
his head in a mixture of disgust and despair. A few weeks earlier,
he had been able to tactfully decline, for the Enterprise would be on
assignment too far away to allow him the opportunity to attend the
gathering. However, their orders had since changed, and they
would now be a mere three hours by shuttle from Starbase 31,
location of Admiral Claire Taggert's retirement dinner. Upon
learning of the change in orders, Admiral Nakamura had contacted
the captain and expressed his delight that Jean-Luc could now attend
the dinner. Nakamura knew the reclusive captain and his tricks far
too well, and was not about to let him off the hook.

Jean-Luc could not bear the thought of being stuck in a room with a
lot of boorish captains and admirals, forced to make polite
conversation for hours on end. This affair would be every bit as
boring and unpleasant as the annual Admiral's Dinner that Jean-Luc
went to such great lengths to annually avoid. But, he was stuck.

He had to attend. His only salvation now would be to bring a
shield. Jean-Luc needed somebody to go with him, somebody to be
there to talk to, dance with, somebody who would make him appear
to all those talkative party-goers as if he was just too busy to be
approached. There was only one person aboard that could answer
this call to duty. Unfortunately, there was no way in hell she was
going to accept assignment to this suicide mission willingly.

There could be no delay, no opportunity to rehearse a long speech
about duty, no chance to make broad pronouncements about being
there for your friends. The dinner was tomorrow, and Jean-Luc
needed to tell Beverly that she was going so she could make
preparations. Of course she would say no, and, of course, Jean-
Luc could not order her to be his date, but he had absolutely no
intention of attending this dinner unescorted. He would get down
on his knees and beg if necessary. The horror of going alone was
great enough that the captain had no qualms about prostrating
himself before the good doctor.

Jean-Luc moved through the corridors of his ship. He carried his
bribes with him. In his arms he held a dozen pink roses, and a
small box trimmed in ribbon. Inside were Kiligaran chocolates,
very rare, and widely believed to be the most delicious confection in
the quadrant. Jean-Luc had gotten them on his last shore leave, and
he had been saving them for Deanna's birthday. He would just have
to find something else for the lovely counselor. Desperate times
called for desperate measures. Jean-Luc was so intent on getting
Beverly to accompany him, that he didn't even worry that he was
being seen headed in the direction of her door carrying gifts that
suggested certain intentions. Let the gossips have their fun. He had
bigger problems at the moment. Besides, most of the crew thought
they were sleeping together anyway.

Picard took a deep breath and hit the door chime. The doors parted
to reveal Beverly standing there, looking breathtaking as always in
her civvies. She smiled as she asked him in, but then, suddenly,
her eye caught the items in his hands, and her smile turned to a look
of puzzlement. "Are those for me?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty
in her voice, as she directed him over to the couch. Beverly's mind
was spinning. 'Would he really pick the middle of the day to just
show up, out of the blue, and start courting me?' Beverly asked
herself. 'Impossible, besides flowers and gifts aren't really Jean-
Luc's style. But maybe...'

"Who else would they be for?" he responded, interrupting her
reverie, as they sat facing each other. Jean-Luc handed the flowers
and chocolates to her. Beverly placed the flowers on her coffee
table, and then she untied the ribbon and peeked inside the box.

"These aren't what I think they are, are they?" she asked excitedly,
her mouth literally watering as she spoke.

"Yes, they are Kiligaran Chocolates." he answered, emphasizing
their name. Jean-Luc wanted to butter her up as much as humanly
possible.

"Thank you Jean-Luc. But why? I mean it is not my birthday or
anything." Beverly wasn't sure what the answer would be, but
something inside her, something rather close to the surface, hoped
that he had indeed come to sweep her off her feet.

"Sweets for the sweet. Nothing more." Jean-Luc answered, doing
his best to sound suave.

Beverly almost cringed when she heard him utter that terrible cliché.
She now knew that he was up to something, and wooing was not it.
Beverly arched her brow, as she just looked at him with the slightest
curl of her lips. "What do you want Jean-Luc?"

He was busted, and he knew it. He should have known he never
had a chance. Beverly just knew him far too well. "Want? Why
Beverly, do I need an excuse to do something nice for you?" The
drowning man stubbornly refused to swim to the shore.

"Jean-Luc, please, you don't really think I'm going to fall for that?"

Beverly made a mental note of just how adorable he looked when
his ears turned pink.

"All right Beverly," he answered, defeated. "I need a favor."

"I see. Well, let's hear it...but, I hope you realize, I'm keeping the
chocolates even if I say no!"

"No just isn't an option I'm afraid," he answered with deadly
seriousness. Jean-Luc ignored the look she shot him, and the fact
that she had raised her eyebrow so high that it now nearly touched
her scalp. "Beverly, I've been roped into attending Admiral
Taggert's retirement dinner tomorrow night at Starbase 31.
Nakamura found out that the Enterprise had been ordered into this
sector, and he is insisting I make an appearance."

"And you want me to go with you, so that you can hide behind my
skirts all evening," she interrupted.

"Well, I mean, it is not as if it won't be nice to spend an evening out
together." He was grasping at straws.

"Forget it Jean-Luc, there is no way I am getting roped into
attending some deathly dull Starfleet function, just so that you don't
have to make a lot of small talk with a bunch of pompous bores."

It was becoming clear that begging might be necessary. Picard was
ready. "Beverly please. I know it is a lot to ask, but can't you see
your way clear to doing me this one favor." He reached out and
grasped her hands. "I will owe you. I'll do anything you ask.
Beverly, you are looking at a desperate man!" There was that
eyebrow again.

Beverly was amused by Jean-Luc's pleas. The dinner itself would,
of course, be an unpleasant experience, but Beverly had to admit to
herself that spending an evening away from the ship with Jean-Luc
had its appeal. She had already decided to say yes a few moments
ago. She would do anything for this man, but not without seeing
him work for it first. "Well, well, anything eh? How can I pass up
the opportunity to have the great Jean-Luc Picard in my debt?" she
teased. "All right, Jean-Luc, you have got yourself a date."
Picard winced as he smiled in both relief and gratitude. He had a
sinking feeling he'd be in her debt for quite some time to come.

"Wonderful. You won't regret it Beverly, and you don't know how
much I appreciate you saying yes."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," she quipped. "So, when do we
leave?" Beverly asked, as she popped a chocolate into her mouth
and licked her lips, suggesting these were not the last Kiligaran
chocolates she'd be receiving from him, and maybe, just maybe,
suggesting something more. 'He really is adorable,' she thought to
herself.

Picard chose not to dwell on the *something more* in Beverly's
gesture. He had enough on his mind already. "We leave at 1100
hours tomorrow. I trust 24 hours is enough time for you to pack an
overnight bag?" Jean-Luc could not resist getting a little barb of his
own in. Why should Beverly have all the fun?

Beverly smiled at him, as she followed him to the door. "Thanks
for the goodies Jean-Luc. I just love the way you ask for a favor.
Very profitable."

"I'll see you at breakfast then?" he asked, a mischievous smile his
response to her mocking.

"Oh, I'll try and make it. If I'm not too busy still packing that is!"
She winked at him as the closing doors ended their banter.

************

Part 2

The Dinner

Beverly and Jean-Luc climbed aboard the shuttle. After several
minutes of small talk about their estimated time of arrival and their
route of flight, Jean-Luc placed the shuttle on auto pilot, and he and
Beverly moved to the back of the shuttle. They did not speak for
nearly an hour, as each one busied themselves with reports and
reading they had meant to catch up on.

Jean-Luc was deep in thought, when suddenly a hand reached from
behind and grabbed the data padd he held in his lap. He jumped a
bit, not only from the surprise, but also from the sensation of
Beverly's other hand coming to rest on his shoulder, one finger
slowly grazing the bare flesh of his neck.

"That's enough of that," Beverly announced from over his shoulder.
She was so close that Jean-Luc could feel her breath on his ear.
"Time for lunch." She moved away from him again, running that
finger once again across his skin as she pulled away. She retrieved
a small basket and thermos from her carry-all.

Jean-Luc watched her intently. He hated it when she acted like this,
when she touched him and spoke to him in such a familiar way.
Actually, he loved it, and that was the problem. Her mere presence
was intoxicating enough, but then to have her behave as if they were
some old married couple was maddening. Jean-Luc wanted so
much for them to truly be a couple. But, he had been put on hold.
Beverly had communicated to him by her words and by her actions,
or at least her actions most of the time, that she was not ready to take
that kind of step. And, Jean-Luc was determined to respect her
wishes, her need to deal with her feelings for him in her own time,
and in her own way. He would not push the issue, even if it meant
a cold shower after every breakfast for the rest of his life. Jean-Luc
was a man of incredible fortitude, but it was moments like these that
tested his resolve.

They ate their lunch in companionable silence. Jean-Luc drifted
back to his reports, as Beverly cleared away the lunch. She returned
to her seat directly across from him, and picked up a medical journal
she had been reading. Jean-Luc was interrupted by the feel of her
boot nudging his hip. "Hey, make room," she ordered, as she
shoved her feet up and rested them on his chair. "Much better," she
said, as he made room for her legs. Beverly always treated all
furniture as her own personal footrest. Jean-Luc did not have a
great deal of room left for himself, and, yet, he did not want to get
up and move to another part of the shuttle. He discovered that he
had no place to rest his right arm, now that her legs were in the way.
Jean-Luc hesitated only a moment, then he let his hand drift down to
rest on Beverly's shin. Here was that maddening familiarity again,
and Jean-Luc cautiously allowed only a feather-touch to her body,
as he vainly attempted to concentrate on his work.

Eventually, Jean-Luc managed to forget about the placement of his
hand, and turn to more mundane matters of efficiency reports. It
was the sound of the shuttle's auto pilot alerting him that they had
reached the outer perimeter of the starbase's space, that finally
snatched Jean-Luc away from his absorption. He noticed that
Beverly had dozed off while reading, and that she had slumped
down in her chair, the result being that there was more of her on his
side of the shuttle. It was then that he also noticed that,
unconsciously, maybe, his hand had drifted up her leg to rest rather
firmly on her knee. He was aghast, and he prayed that she had not
noticed, as he leapt up and headed to the pilot's chair.
Beverly stirred, and she watched him fumbling at the console.
There was a definite grin on her face, as she stood and stretched.

"There already?" A grunt was all she got in return. Beverly
smoothed her uniform and gathered all their things together. She
then moved to the copilot's seat. Beverly did not look directly at
Jean-Luc, for she did not wish him to see that insistent little smile
playing on her lips. Nor did she want him to know that she had
noticed, and quite some time ago at that.

They disembarked in the shuttle bay. There to greet them and direct
them to their accommodations was the lieutenant in charge of
communications. As Lieutenant Warren led them through the
corridors of Starbase 31, Beverly leaned over to Jean-Luc and
whispered in his ear. "I guess with all the admirals knocking
around this place, we are pretty small potatoes." She flashed him a
brilliant smile, eyes dancing, as she gestured towards their guide.
Jean-Luc gave her the sternest expression he could muster, and
whispered back, "behave yourself." He couldn't help but let the
facade crack with a wry smile. The woman was incorrigible.

"Aye sir." Beverly barely suppressed the urge to salute, for that
would have been going just a bit too over the top, even for her.

****

Picard approached Beverly's door. He tugged at the stiff collar of
his dress uniform, as he waited to be admitted. The doors parted to
reveal her. Jean-Luc gaped at Beverly, as he felt all the breath race
from his body. She was dressed in a stunning, blue, off-the-
shoulder gown, which hugged all the right curves, in all the right
places. It was rare that the captain of the Enterprise was ever
rendered speechless by any sight.

Beverly remarked to herself that the expression on Jean-Luc's face
was worth the risk of a thousand boring admirals asking her to
dance. She allowed him a moment to take it all in, a bemused smile
on her face. The get-up had elicited the desired effects. "Penny for
your thoughts," she finally chirped, adding a wink for good
measure.

Jean-Luc recoiled a bit, her voice had interrupted his ruminations on
her appearance. He struggled to cover the embarrassment of his
silent staring. "I was just thinking to myself how truly lovely you
look." Diplomatic as always.

"It took you that long to come up with that one Jean-Luc?" she
teased. She watched as his entire head came to match the color of
his uniform.

"I was just caught a bit off-guard. I was expecting to find you in
your dress uniform," he answered, a bit flustered. "Not that I am
disappointed mind you," he quickly added, regaining his composure
and covering himself against any sparking of the quick temper of his
companion.

"Certainly not," she added fliply. "I decided not to wear the
uniform," Beverly explained, "because I am not attending the dinner
in a professional capacity. I was not invited remember. I am merely
here to decorate the dashing captain's arm." She smiled at him
wickedly as she approached him. "You do look dashing tonight
Jean-Luc," she remarked, as she reached out and smoothed the front
of his uniform.

He felt an incredible urge to reach out and take her in his arms. She
was so close, and her touch thrilled him. Jean-Luc resisted the urge
to indulge his passion, however, in his usual stalwart way. And, he
could have almost sworn he saw a flash of disappointment in her
eyes when he reached out, not to embrace her, but rather to clasp her
hand and offer her his arm. "Is the captain's ornament ready then?"
Beverly was not the only one in the mood to play tonight. They
exited her quarters arm-in-arm.

Beverly and Jean-Luc glided into the reception hall. The room was
already quite full. This reluctant two-some having opted to
be fashionably late. 'Too bad there is no such thing as fashionably
absent,' Beverly silently mused, as Jean-Luc led her in Admiral
Taggert's direction. They waited their turn to offer their
congratulations to the guest of honor on a distinguished career.

Jean-Luc felt like such a fake. He had only met the admiral once
before, and he knew her principally by reputation only. He sucked
it up, however, and gushed appropriately when his turn came. As
he and Beverly moved away, she leaned over, elbowing him in the
ribs, and whispered, "bravo."

Jean-Luc couldn't resist. He turned to her, and noticing a group of
people nearby, he pulled her close so that he could whisper in her
ear. A private sweet nothing. "Shut up Beverly!"

"If that is what you consider romantic banter, Jean-Luc, I'd love to
hear your interpretation of pillow talk," she quipped.

"Maybe later doctor!" Jean-Luc teased, as he watched those
mesmerizing pools of blue dance with delight. "Champagne?" he
asked, as he signaled a passing waiter. Jean-Luc didn't want to
admit it , but damn if he wasn't having the time of his life.

"Mmmm, the real thing," Beverly observed, as she sipped from her
glass. "I better watch myself tonight. I'm not sure I can be trusted
drinking something other than synthahol."

Jean-Luc smiled broadly at her statement, as he suddenly executed a
perfect pirouette, snatching the whole bottle of bubbly from the
aforementioned waiter as he turned. "Care for more?" he inquired
as he faced her once again.

It was at that moment that Beverly spotted Admiral Nakamura in the
distance, headed their way. She grabbed Jean-Luc's arm and made
for the corner. They spent the next twenty minutes waiting for the
banquet to begin, sitting on a bench partially obscured by the leaves
of a large potted plant. They spent their time laying to waste their
bottle of contraband. No one approached them. Beverly did indeed
make an effective, not to mention beautiful, shield against mingling.
Jean-Luc could get used to wearing this kind of armor. All day and
all night.

They took their seats for the meal, each a little unsteady from the
drinks. The menu was indeed filled with tasteless fare, but Jean-
Luc could have been eating gagh for all he knew, as all he could
taste was the intoxicating scent of Beverly's perfume. Beverly was
likewise indifferent to the food on her plate. She was satisfying her
appetite in other ways.

Completely relaxed, and thoroughly in the spirit of things, Beverly
and Jean-Luc chatted amiably with those who sat around them.
They had been seated around the other captains in attendance at one
of the far tables. Jean-Luc being the big fish in the small pond.
They listened to each other's conversation with rapt attention.
Beverly responded to Jean-Luc's witty remarks to the other guests
by reaching her hand down and occasionally squeezing his thigh in
approval. It drove him wild, but he didn't dare discourage her. He
too handled her with that casual familiarity. At one point, Captain
Marshall, who sat just to Beverly's right, was telling a rather
fascinating story about a run-in with a bunch of Korvallan
mercenaries. Beverly's hair had cascaded down her shoulder,
blocking Jean-Luc's view of the captain. He reached out, without a
thought, and tucked her hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek
softly as he did so. Instead of drawing his hand away, Jean-Luc let
it drift lazily down her neck and around her shoulders, finally
breaking contact to let his arm rest on the back of her chair, as he
leaned in to hear the rest of the story. Beverly responded to his
closeness by letting her hand come to rest permanently on his thigh.
Dessert was finally served, and then began the endless rounds of
toasts and tributes. Jean-Luc and Beverly made an effort to pay
attention to the speakers, but right now they could really only
concentrate on each other. At this moment, they were each other's
entire universe. The speeches droned on in the background, as one
would occasionally catch the other staring. The stare would be
answered with a knowing smile, a look that held a promise of
something more to come.

Finally, Admiral Taggert rose to thank her guests. She finished,
and everyone rose to their feet for a hearty round of applause. The
small orchestra began to play in the background, and some of the
guests moved to the dance floor. Jean-Luc and Beverly took their
seats again and exchanged a few comments with the other members
of their table on the content of the speeches. What little they could
remember of them of course. Jean-Luc was attempting to
concentrate on Captain Marshall's latest topic of discussion, when
he suddenly felt Beverly's foot brush down his leg. At first, he
dismissed the sensation, believing it to just be a result of Beverly
shifting her legs under the table. When, however, he felt her foot
brush back up his leg, slowly, gently, Jean-Luc knew this contact
was in no way accidental. The fact that she had also slipped off her
shoe, gave Jean-Luc another clue as to her intention. His body
tingled, and he felt as though he might burst. He looked at her in
desperation, his eyes holding two questions: Do you mean to drive
me wild with desire? and Will there be more? The answer on both
counts was yes. He had to do something, for he had reached his
breaking point. Jean-Luc shot out of his chair. "Beverly, may I
have this dance?"

An extremely satisfied smile formed on the doctor's face, as she
accepted his invitation. "Yes, Jean-Luc, I'd love to dance."

Jean-Luc grasped her hand, and he helped her up from the chair.
"Excuse us," he said, as he led Beverly by the hand in the direction
of the dance floor. He pulled her close, as he swung her out on to
the floor.

"You do waltz divinely for a man who hates to dance," Beverly
teased, but the pounding of her heart against his chest belied her
lightsome manner.

Jean-Luc just looked at her, easing ever closer, so close, in fact, that
the tip of his nose brushed up against hers. Barely keeping the steps
to the music, he nodded his head up and down. Even the contact of
this tiniest bit of flesh maddened him, and he was about to kiss her,
when he suddenly remembered himself, recalling where he was.

"Beverly, do you think it is too early for us to make our exit?" His
voice was strained, clearly affected by the Herculean effort he was
making to control himself.

"I think we can chance it," she replied, her fingers dancing across
the bit of skin on his neck that peeked out of the high collar of his
uniform.

They made their way over to Admiral Taggert's table and said their
farewells. Nobody really seemed to notice their somewhat early
departure. Everybody was too busy eyeing Taggert's date, a
handsome young lieutenant commander who could barely be more
than 40. And those who weren't intrigued by that little May-
December romance were busy trying to figure out the exact nature of
Admiral Tibideaux and Admiral Clancy's relationship, for they had
shared every dance this evening. Yes, the flirtations of the captain
of the Federation flagship and his chief medical officer seemed quite
insignificant. Small potatoes indeed.

Beverly and Jean-Luc made their way through the corridors of the
starbase. They did not speak, but instead held hands tightly. It had
been silently agreed that a nightcap in the doctor's quarters was
definitely in order.

********

Part 3

The Nightcap

The doors closed behind them, and, suddenly, Beverly Crusher and
Jean-Luc Picard found themselves completely alone. Privacy at last.
Their hands were still joined, as they stared into each other's eyes
for several moments, almost afraid at this moment to get any closer
for fear of losing themselves to the moment altogether.

Beverly fought off the hypnotic force of Jean-Luc's gaze, as she
quietly suggested their next course of action. "We never finished
our dance." 'Care for a drink,' seemed too clichéd.

"No we didn't. I suppose we should make up for that now," he
replied smoothly, as he finally broke their physical connection to
move to the far side of the room. Jean-Luc's hand flew across a
small panel, and the sound of soft jazz began to fill the room. He
turned back towards Beverly. "Computer lower lighting to 1/4
intensity." The mood was set.

Beverly had actually felt a shiver pass through her when Jean-Luc
had finally released her hand. It was as if they had become one, and
the emptiness she felt when they had separated, even for just those
few moments and for just those few feet, was almost tangible.
When Jean-Luc had asked her to be his escort, Beverly had
suspected, had hoped, that the evening might unfold as it had. They
were nearly there now, and she hoped desperately that Jean-Luc
would make it happen.

The chill evaporated as Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around her to
finish their dance. They weren't really dancing, but instead swaying
slightly, not to the music, but rather to the rhythm of their hearts and
souls. An orchestra in perfect tune.

Jean-Luc brushed his cheek lightly against Beverly's. He had not
felt this alive in years. He dropped his head slightly, as he began a
trail of gentle kisses across her jawline, and then down her neck.
Beverly responded to the caresses with a soft sigh. When Jean-Luc
reached the skin of her bare shoulder he stopped, aching to go
further, and yet almost too bashful to continue. He straightened and
looked deeply into Beverly's eyes. They whispered in sweet
supplication. Jean-Luc leaned forward and gently covered her lips
with his own. Their delicate feel, and intoxicating flavor, drove him
to ask for more with his touch. He did not go unanswered.

Something inside Jean-Luc called out to him, even as his body had
shut out all the rest of the world, had given itself over to the ecstasy
of her embrace. Reminded him that it was not so long ago that
Beverly had resisted making this leap in their relationship. He
would never hurt her. He had to know that this is what she truly
wanted, that it was not merely what the heat of the moment had
dictated. As Jean-Luc pulled away from her warm touch, he cursed
his own noble nature, his own stubborn resoluteness.

"Beverly, I need to know that this is what you want, that you are
ready for there to be an *us*." His voice was hoarse with
suppressed desire. "You weren't ready before, and I don't want
you to ever regret being with me. Your friendship means far too
much to me."

She had felt her world come crashing down about her from the
moment he had pulled away. He had ruined everything. Anger
flashed in her eyes. Beverly was not angry with Jean-Luc, but
rather with herself. Jean-Luc was only trying to be a friend and a
gentleman. That was the problem. He was not going to let her
sneak into this relationship through the backdoor. She lashed out at
him, venting her own frustration. "Why must you analyze
everything before you act? Damn it Jean-Luc, this is sex, not a
peace conference! I don't want to think about it. I just want to do
it."

Jean-Luc was stunned. He couldn't quite believe what he had
heard. As he thought her statement through, he became quite angry
himself. Picard did not appreciate being mocked for trying to put
her needs ahead of his own, for trying to respect *her* request that
they remain just friends. Did she have any idea how hard it had
been to keep his hands to himself all this time? "Beverly, you have
been keeping me at bay all these months, and now you just want to
*do it*!" he boomed.

Beverly recognized that she was being unfair to him, and she
already regretted her angry words. "I'm sorry. This is not your
fault." Beverly realized that he deserved an explanation as much as
he had deserved that apology. "It was just that I was hoping that
things would just happen tonight, without any discussion of what
and how we feel." How could she tell him what was in her heart,
when it frightened her so much to face it herself?

Jean-Luc stared at her. He needed more. He was hurt to think that
Beverly could ever want casual sex and nothing more with him.
It was tearing at her heart that he looked so confused, so vulnerable.
"Jean-Luc, if we shared that kind of intimacy tonight, then I would
be forced to confront my feelings for you, be forced to accept them
and deal with them. I'd have no choice." Beverly's voice lurched
as she fought back the tears.

"No choice? Beverly you always have a choice."

"No Jean-Luc, I don't. I know that once I was with you, I could
never let you go." Beverly's words were filled with conviction.
She realized that more explanation was necessary. "Jean-Luc, the
concept of *us* terrifies me. Every time I think about it, my throat
goes dry and my chest tightens. I believed if I just let my body
respond to you, just followed your lead tonight, then maybe you
would make the move we have both wanted for so long, and then
thoughts, no, words on my part wouldn't be necessary. I know
they would come to me in the morning, once I was in your arms."
What could he say? It was all so foolish yet disturbingly logical at
the same time. Jean-Luc found the words he wanted. "So you
expected me to ravish you, present you with the key to my heart,
and then maybe, just maybe, you would find the courage to tell me
you care?"

He was scoffing at her, and yet she knew she deserved it. She had
been so unfair, so manipulative. It wasn't Jean-Luc's fault that she
was frightened of voicing her love for him. The flames on her
cheeks matched the auburn locks that framed her face. Beverly
looked down, unable to even meet his gaze. She answered with a
sheepish "yes."

Jean-Luc silently contemplated all that had just occurred. So she
loved him, and she wanted him. His heart soared. She just needed
him to nudge her that last little bit of the way. He could do that. He
could do anything when it came to Beverly Crusher. But how to
effect that little shove in his direction? This was a very delicate
moment.

Jean-Luc reached out across the chasm that separated them. He
grabbed Beverly, and he kissed her hard. "The captain takes
command at last," he declared, his voice smooth as silk. The
rapture in Beverly's eyes told him that she eagerly awaited his
orders. "I must warn you, it may take me several hours to finish
ravishing you. I am very thorough. It must be my analytical
nature." Beverly's face lit up like a thousand sunrises, as she kissed
him passionately in response. They parted for one last brief
moment. "And doctor," Jean-Luc commanded, "I will expect a full
report on *us* in the morning. Understood?"

She smiled mischievously. "Aye sir." And this time Beverly
saluted, but not really in the traditional sense.

******

Jean-Luc yawned slightly, as he opened his eyes. It was at that
same moment that he realized where he was, and who he was with.
Beverly Crusher lay asleep next to him. Her head resting on his
chest. Jean-Luc gathered her more tightly in his arms, as he
reviewed the evening in his mind. He had been with some pretty
amazing women in the past, but nothing could have ever prepared
him for last night.

Beverly stirred, and she rubbed her cheek over his heart, turning her
face so that she could place a sweet kiss on Jean-Luc's chest. She
looked up and smiled at him. "This has got to be the nicest way to
wake up," she declared.

He laughed slightly in agreement. "Indeed." Jean-Luc then pulled
her fully on top of him. Beverly went willingly. He nudged at her
slightly, and she realized that it was time for the captain's morning
exercises. He rolled over on top of her, and he was about to turn
his full attention to the breast that he cupped in one hand, when
Beverly interrupted.

"Wait, Jean-Luc, I think there are a few things that I need to say."
Her voice was filled with intensity. "You were expecting a *full
report* in the morning remember." The intensity turned to
playfulness.

Jean-Luc returned her smile, then he placed a finger on her lips.
"No, don't. I want you to tell me when you are ready, not when
you feel obligated to do so." He was completely serious, but his
voice carried a gentleness as he spoke. "I know in my heart how
you feel Beverly. You don't have to say it. We are together, and
that's all that matters."

"But..."

"Shhh," he cut her off, placing a firm kiss on her lips to quiet her.
"We don't have time to argue. We have to be on a shuttle out of
here in just over an hour, and I'd rather fill that time engaged in
other pursuits." Jean-Luc simultaneously slid inside her,
demonstrating with his actions the sincerity of his last statement.
Beverly moaned in agreement. And in that moment, before all
conscious thought became impossible, Beverly pondered how lucky
she was to be with a man who understood her so well. She also
remarked to herself that Jean-Luc would not have to wait long to
hear what was in her heart expressed in words. He had, of course,
already heard it expressed many times over by her actions
throughout the night.

****

They sat on the shuttle staring out into space. It seemed almost sad
to be going home. They were leaving their little secret paradise
behind, and they were now returning to the place where everyone
knew them, expected certain things from them, understood them.

"Beverly, I was thinking that perhaps we should keep our
relationship to ourselves for the time being. I don't want the
pressure of being stared at, and talked about behind our backs just
yet." Jean-Luc looked at her a bit uncertainly. He hoped his
suggestion did not offend her. He was not ashamed of being with
her. He only wanted his privacy, their privacy.

"I agree," Beverly said emphatically. She understood his position
completely. To her, he was an open book. "It will be fun to try and
keep this little secret. I'm just not sure how long we'll be able to,"
she laughed. Beverly got up and moved towards the back of the
shuttle to make herself more comfortable. Jean-Luc turned back to
the console, inputting a few commands to keep the shuttle on its
proper course.

"Jean-Luc, aren't you coming?" came the breathy voice from
behind. Jean-Luc turned to face her. His eyes lit up in sweet
surprise. He discovered her seductively perched on one of the
chairs, her uniform in a heap on the floor. Jean-Luc switched on the
auto pilot quickly, then he moved towards his seducer, a lecherous
grin on his face as he went.

As he approached her, it became clear from her hungry look that she
had every intention of pleasuring him completely. He decided to
beat her to the punch. These two always were a bit competitive.
Before Beverly could reach up to undress him, he knelt down in
front of her. Jean-Luc reached out and grasped her waist. He
pulled her towards him forcefully, and she now found herself
teetering on the edge of the chair. He flashed her a roguish look, as
he slid his hands down between her thighs, thrusting them apart.
Beverly gasped with delight, as Jean-Luc lowered his head. He
worked fervently, as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder so
that he could get the ideal angle. Jean-Luc Picard, ever the
perfectionist. Beverly writhed in pleasure, carried away by wave
after wave of desire.

Beverly collapsed back into the chair, as Jean-Luc finally pulled
away. She rested only a moment, before she whispered to the
kneeling form before her. "Your turn."

Jean-Luc smiled and replied, "yes sir." Like a shot, he was on his
feet, stripping away his uniform. He lunged towards her, sweeping
her up into his arms. Beverly wrapped her legs tightly around him,
and she thrust her hips against him. That sensation caused him to
collapse back into the chair. He screamed her name as he grabbed
her hips, grinding them against him. She moved purposefully in his
lap, driving him mad with each gyration. Finally, Jean-Luc
stiffened, screaming her name one last time. Adrift in the silent
vacuum of space, the lovers were completely alone, and they cried
out freely, passion unbound.

They madly smoothed and straightened each other's uniforms, as
the doors of the shuttle began to open. "Until tonight," Jean-Luc
quickly whispered. Beverly squeezed his hand in response, and
then broke free as they turned to step down into the shuttle bay.
Riker and Troi were there to greet them. "Have fun?" Riker teased,
remembering their reluctance when they had stepped on this same
shuttle yesterday.

"We managed to make due," Picard answered diplomatically,
hoping to give away nothing.

Deanna's eyes went wide, and she flashed Beverly a knowing,
bemusedly accusatory look.

'She knows. Damn!' Beverly said to herself. Beverly hated it
when her friend went and got empathic on her. Riker and Picard
moved ahead, as Will briefed the captain on the past day's events.
Deanna reached out and grabbed Beverly's arm, stopping her.

"Not so fast," she commanded, her eyes absolutely dancing with
excited anticipation. Deanna believed she was about to be made
privy to the gossip she most wanted to hear.

"Can't talk now Deanna. I've got to get to sickbay and check on an
experiment I left running yesterday," Beverly lied. She turned
quickly and headed out of the shuttle bay, leaving a happily
knowing Betazoid in her wake. Beverly spent the rest of her day
dodging the persistent counselor. Keeping this relationship secret,
or at least unconfirmed, was going to be extraordinarily difficult.

****
They cuddled on his couch, lazily sipping their after-dinner drinks.
It felt so good to just sit here and be at total ease with each other.
Beverly knew the time was right. She tousled the short hairs of his
chest, as she shifted her head a bit against his shoulder. "Jean-Luc,
I'm ready to say the words."

Jean-Luc reached down and touched her chin. He lifted it, so that
her blue eyes stared straight at him. "I'm ready to hear them
Beverly," he answered softly.

"I love you Jean-Luc Picard, utterly and completely, and without
end." Beverly leaned up, sealing her declaration with a kiss. A few
days ago she could have never spoken those few simple words.
Now, they rolled off her tongue, freely, sincerely, effortlessly.
Jean-Luc took her hand in his. He kissed it gently, and then he
placed it over his heart. "Beverly, I give this to you, absolutely and
forever."

"I promise to cherish it Jean-Luc. To guard and keep it all the days
of my life." Beverly wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"What about amuse it?" he queried, with just a hint of mischief.
Beverly's lips curled, as she looked up at him. "What did you have
in mind?" she purred.

He stood up, sweeping her up into his arms. "Oh, just a little bit of
this and that."

"Sounds delightful." Beverly smiled, and she kicked off her shoes,
sending them flying across the room. "Shall we begin then?"

Jean-Luc made for the bedroom, whispering, "I love you," into her
ear as he went.

****

Beverly opened her eyes and smiled. This was the second straight
morning that she had awoken to find herself in a snuggle position.
It was a phenomenon she could get quite used to. Jean-Luc felt
warm against her back, his firm chest pressed up against her
shoulders, his arms around her, his face lost in a sea of auburn
curls. She needed to see him, needed to possess him with every
sense: sight, sound, touch, and taste. That thought gave her a
positively indecent idea.

She rolled over in his arms and looked on his face. It was like
looking at perfection as it would appear etched in marble. A small
smile erupted on Jean-Luc's face, but his eyes remained closed.
Beverly kissed his lips, but she did not allow him the opportunity to
explore her mouth, for she had another agenda. She began to trail
soft kisses down his neck and chest. When she reached his
abdomen, his eyes popped open, as he suddenly figured out where
she was going. Jean-Luc shivered in delight at the thought of where
this trail ended. Beverly paused at his belly button, and she looked
up at him. She leered at him, and licked her lips hungrily. Jean-Luc
returned her gaze with a mixture of lust and bemusement. Beverly
winked, as she had now come to straddle his thighs. She reached
behind her, grabbed the bedcovers, and then disappeared. Jean-Luc
jumped to attention as she began her ministrations. He stared up at
the ceiling, saying a quick, silent thank you to all the deities he could
name, and then he let his eyes roll back in his head, swept away by
the paroxysms of pleasure.

Will Riker looked at the engine efficiency numbers that were listed
on the padd. He scowled. This was not what he wanted to see first
thing in the morning. The warp engines had been misbehaving for a
few days now, and the figures on this latest report demanded that
the Enterprise go in to space dock for serious repair, and soon. The
captain was not going to be happy, and he needed to be informed
immediately. Will brought his hand up to his comm badge.

Jean-Luc had never felt so content in his life. This moment
represented the perfect intersection of love, ecstasy, intimacy, and
hope. A voice suddenly intruded on this bliss.

"Riker to Picard."

Picard stiffened in absolute shock and fear, while the form beneath
the bedcovers froze. Beverly was caught so off guard, that she
accidentally moved to instinctively bite down on her lip to quiet
herself. That move was not well received.

The captain yelped. It really could not be helped. Fortunately, he
did not scream out anything coherent that could have possibly given
them away.

"Sir are you all right?" came the worried voice of the first officer.

"Yes, I'm fine Number One," Jean-Luc answered, his eyes
watering. "I just ah stubbed my toe. What is it?" he demanded, a
little more curtly than Riker was accustomed to.

"Our trouble with the warp engines is more serious than we
anticipated. Geordi's diagnostic turned up some real nasty
problems. I'll bring you the report immediately. I suggest that we
change course for the nearest starbase," Riker finished.

"Understood. Change course. But, Number One it is not necessary
for you to deliver the report to my quarters personally," Picard
stated, masking his panic. "Just transmit it to me, and I'll review it
over my breakfast."

"There are a few things I'd like to point out to you in person Sir.
I'm on my way. Riker out."

Poor, stupid, well-meaning Riker. He hadn't the slightest clue of
what he had interrupted, and if he had, he'd be the first one to hang
the do not disturb sign on the captain's door.

Beverly finally moved. She threw off the covers. "Oh Jean-Luc,
I'm so sorry. Are you all right?" She didn't want to have disabled
the man after twenty years of waiting to be introduced, so to speak.
"I'm fine," he grunted. "But we have bigger problems. Will's on
his way."

Jean-Luc sprang out of bed. He pulled a uniform out of his closet
and threw it on. This was one of those rare occasions where he
thanked the fates that he was bald, as he smoothed the short crop of
hair on the back of his head. He turned to Beverly, and motioned
for her to stay in the bed, as he sat down on its edge to pull on his
boots. "Not a peep," he commanded as he moved into the main
room. He grabbed the drinks still sitting on the coffee table, just as
he heard the door chime. He panicked a bit, and he quickly shoved
them under the couch. "Come."

"Good morning sir," Will said as he entered. "I'm sorry to disturb
you, but I wanted to deliver the report personally."

"It's all right Number One. Please sit down." The two officers sat
at the table, and Riker commenced with his presentation. Jean-Luc
barely heard him, as all he could concentrate on was the horror of
getting caught with a naked woman less than 15 feet away from
where he and Riker sat. "Very good Number One," Picard
answered when Will had finished. "I'll join you on the bridge
shortly."

Riker stood to leave, a bit shocked that the captain did not even seem
irritated that his ship was broken. He headed towards the door,
when he suddenly tripped a bit on something lying on the floor. He
looked down to locate the offending object. Picard's heart leapt into
his throat, as Riker leaned down, only to rise with a lovely lady's
heel in his hand.

Riker grinned wildly, his eyes brightening, as he examined the
shoe. "Well, it would seem Cinderella left her glass slipper
behind," he observed with a chortle. He handed the shoe to the now
crimson captain, and, with a wink, he headed for the door. As the
doors opened, Riker turned, unable to resist, he said, "I hope for
your sake, sir, that she did not turn into a pumpkin at midnight."

The doors swished closed.

Jean-Luc heard a voice ring out in laughter from behind. He turned
to see Beverly's head peek around the corner.

"Is it safe?" she laughed, as she skipped out into the main room,
looking quite captivating in Jean-Luc's favorite robe. "I guess the
cat's out of the bag."

Jean-Luc frowned.

"Now, now, don't pout. Just think, we made it a whole day
without any one finding out!"

Jean-Luc loved the way Beverly accentuated the positive, and he
also loved the way she looked in that robe. He thought how she'd
look even better without it. He gathered her up in his arms and
eased her to the floor.

"Aren't you suppose to be on the bridge?" she teased.

"Will will cover for me," he answered, untying the robe and
slipping his hand inside, running it across her supple flesh.

"Like any good fairy godmother, eh?" she questioned, a bit
breathless with delight at his soft, probing touch.

Jean-Luc nodded impishly, finally reaching down to silence Beverly
with his passion.