Dear Friends
By BONCPC
Chapter One
Bev strode down the corridor lost in thought. The Enterprise was returning to Earth after 13 months mapping the far reaches of the Beta quadrant. She had mentally prepared a list of the places she wanted to visit. Jean-Luc figured prominently in those plans. Their friendship had deepened since their last visit home. She pictured wandering arm in arm down the Champs Elyesse. The gay sounds of the Parisians milling about them. The smell of fresh baked pastries. Stopping to partake of coffee and croissants at an outdoor cafe.
Her mouth watered at the thought of that coffee, a little sugar with just a touch of lemon rind. She entered Picard's quarters, making a bee line to the replicator. "Good morning." The sensuous tone reflected her inner craving for an expresso. She gently patted his shoulder as she passed. Picard was engaged in a subspace communication with an old friend, Captain Ross. Jean-Luc's head snapped around to follow her movements, confusion played upon his face, but went unnoticed by Ross.
Cassandra Ross was saying something. Picard forced his attention back to the viewer. One look at Cassandra's face told him this innocent scene had been misinterpreted. "Well then JL, we will see you and your *guest* in a few hours. We are meeting at the Hotel Continental. The transmission was ended before he could think of an explanation. Merde, Picard pinched the bridge of his nose, this was not going as smoothly as he hoped..
The group of five had expanded by two over the last 30 years. Michael Zane and Bernard LeDour had both married. Their wives would be at the reunion. Cassandra Ross and Frans LeMar remained single but very much attached to each other. His idea to bring Beverly was to even out the numbers. Picard, the confirmed bachelor, remembered all too well the uncomfortable feeling of being alone in a group of couples. Especially these old dear friends. During the last 3 reunions he was subjected to their blatant attempts at matchmaking. He had attempted to be civil to the escorts they provided, but he had always come off sounding cold and elusive.
Beverly had taken up residence on the sofa. She was contentedly sipping from the demitasse cup. Jean-Luc sank into the chair opposite.
"Explaining the nature of our relationship to this group is not going to be easy. They have a deep seated desire to see me married off. I have been somewhat of a challenge to them over the years. Beverly, I must warn you, they have a very warped sense of humor. They delight in dreaming up embarrassing situations. Each reunion seems to get just a little more bizarre. If you want to back out I'll understand." Jean-Luc sighed heavily and waited for the response. The only sound was a satisfied mmm. "Beverly?"
"Oh, sorry, what were you saying?"
"I was saying, if you wanted to back out, I would understand."
"Why would I do that. I can't wait to meet your friends and 3 days in Paris sounds divine."
Jean-Luc considered baring his sole once again. He hesitated as a vivid memory from the last reunion, ten years ago, popped into his head.
He had been stranded in an old fashion elevator with, what was her name, oh yes, Reanna. They had been returning from a nights revelry when the car stopped between floors. He did not know at the time, that Michael had paid the hotel porter to arrange for the equipment malfunction. Reanna had had too much to drink and thanks to the live entertainment was extremely aroused. She had wasted no time in demonstrating those desires. He was relieved when the car resumed its climb, unfortunately Reanna was in a partial state of undress when the doors opened on the sixth floor.
His comrades had taken the other elevator to the sixth floor and were there to cheer and wolf whistle. Picard smiled at the memory. He had been mortified at the time, but now he could see the joke. Besides, the idea of getting stuck in an elevator with an intoxicated Beverly was, appealing.
"Beverly, you are my best friend. Together, I'm sure we can survive the next few days. I only hope you will not think less of me when we return to the Enterprise."
"You sound as if we were about to head off on an extremely dangerous way mission. Jean-Luc, these are your oldest friends and you obviously care for them. How bad can three days in Paris be?"
"Your right, I'm overreacting. You had better go change into civilian clothing. We don't advertise our connection with Starfleet at these events. Wouldn't want to embarrass the Federation." He laughed.
Beverly had changed, packed and was waiting for her escort in transporter room two. Jean-Luc's jest about the dress code still echoed through her mind. She knew Jean-Luc had been a tad wild in his youth, but he had matured into an officer and gentleman. A part of her secretly hoped he would let his hair down, so to speak. The chance to see another side of this man was intriguing
Picard strode into the room carrying an air of superiority. This was obviously designed to counteract his casual appearance. He had on tight fitting deep gray pants and an open front teal shirt. He visibly reeled when he saw Beverly.
She had enlisted the help of Deanna and together, they had poured through a data bank containing the latest Paris fashions. For once she had thrown caution to the wind, the results were stunning. Her dress was soft, flowing and very revealing, perfect for a warm afternoon in Paris. By pure chance the color matched his shirt perfectly.
"You look magnificent." He whispered, taking his place on the pad.
"You aint seen nothin' yet." came the reply.
They materialized in the foyer of the Continental. The building had been lovingly nursed and tendered throughout 5 centuries. The carpets were a plush deep red, framed in marble. Gigantic mahogany columns held up the three story ornate ceiling. Shiny brass fixtures were used in abundance. Overhead a massive crystal chandelier cast rainbows of light.
Picard had spotted his friends and was escorting her, on his arm towards them. He seemed to be clinging to her, just a little closer than normal. He sounded a tad nervous as he introduced her.
Cassandra had suggested they check in quickly. The group were scheduled to leave in 20 minutes. First stop, the Louve. A special exhibit was on display that they would all love.
Picard and Crusher followed the bell boy through the maze of corridors to their suit of rooms. Beverly noticed two doors leading off the main lounge area. The first was an expansive bed room, containing a four poster bed. "Wow, the opulence of the 19th century never fails to amaze me. Let's see what the other bedroom is like."
Beverly opened the adjoining door onto another large room. "Um, Jean-Luc, your bed looks a little uncomfortable."
Jean-Luc moved to join her. "Beverly, I am not sleeping in a bath tub."
"Really, where did you plan on sleeping. There seems to be a shortage of beds." She was trying hard to hide the humor in the situation. The idea of being forced to share a bed was not unpleasant, but in true form she wanted him to stew a little.
Picard had crossed to the communication panel and was demanding an additional bedroom. "I'm sorry, the reservations were changed this morning. I was informed you would not require the additional room. The second room has already been occupied, there is nothing I can do." The manager's eyes wandered to take in Beverly. He dropped his voice to a conspiratual tone. "Perhaps you should take the lady for a romantic stroll along the river. It always works with my wife, and there is nothing sweeter than making up after a lover's tiff." Jean-Luc punched the panel, closing the call.
He turned around to face a very amused Doctor Crusher. "It would appear, my friends have played their first practical joke."
"Do you always give in so easily. Haven't you ever thought of retaliating?"
"No, I would not want to sink to such childish behavior."
Beverly placed a comforting hand on his arm. "This prank has been played on both of us. I want revenge!" A wicked smile spread across his face. Maybe it was time to fight back, he thought.
They entered the first hall of the exhibit, Beverly's eyes just about popped out of her head. The room was full of ancient oriental paintings that could only be described as erotic. Jean-Luc had detected her hesitation. He asked if she wanted to forgo the exhibit. No, she would be a trouper, for his sake. Besides she was curious to find out how her dear captain would react to the artwork.
Each hall brought them a century closer to the twenty fourth. By the twenty second century Beverly was wondering if there were any other sexual positions possible.
To easy the tension, Beverly was asking Jean-Luc about the sites of Paris. Above all she wanted to view the city from the top of the Eiffel tower. Picard had agreed to escort her there tomorrow. She was inquiring about his favorite place when they were distracted.
The other six had moved ahead. Loud gasps escaped a collective throat. Michael was looking sideways at something just beyond their sight.
Beverly glanced at the holographic sculpture. It was of a terrain male. "The genitals are defiantly not anatomically correct." She whispered to Jean-Luc in her most professional voice.
A laugh escaped his stoic lips, shattering his straight laced image. "Yeah, it is a little exaggerated."
"So when do I get to see yours?" She inquired.
Jean-Luc was stunned. "Beverly!" He quickly lowered his voice as he noticed the looks from the group. "Not so loud, please."
Beverly was momentarily puzzled by his reaction, but broke into hysterical laughter as reality dawned. "I was referring to your favorite site in Paris." She managed, gasping for air.
End of Chapter One
Chapter Two
They were due to meet in the foyer in five minutes. Dinner
tonight was once again a surprise. The only clue Cassandra gave
them was that the dress attire was formal.
Picard leaned his forehead against the bathroom door.
"Beverly, are you all right? You have been in there for an hour."
"I'm almost done," she called, her voice muffled by the heavy
mahogany door.
In fact, Beverly had been dressed for the past fifteen
minutes. Critically, she studied her reflection in the full-length
mirror. Not bad, she decided. The outfit was indeed formal, but
it was *not* her normal conservative choice. Deanna's influence
was quite clear, from the extremely low cut bodice to the slit in
the skirt reaching almost to her hip. An elegant Betazoid
pendant nestled against her bosom; that, too, was a gift from
Deanna, 'to steady your heart and clear your soul', she'd said.
Biting her lip, Beverly studied her reflection one last time
before taking a deep breath and opening the bathroom door.
Jean-Luc's eyes widened at the sight of her, a slow, deep
flush mounting his cheeks. "Beverly, you can't go out like that!"
Beverly was mortified - and a little relieved. Maybe she
shouldn't wear the Betazoid dress after all. "I take it you don't
approve. Perhaps I should wear something else." Her voice
betrayed her unease. She didn't want to embarrass Jean-Luc.
Her companion recovered his manners and his
composure almost immediately. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "That
didn't come out very well. Beverly, you look beautiful- in fact,
maybe a little *too* good."
It was Beverly's turn to blush. "Are you sure? I wouldn't
want you to be embarrassed to be seen with me."
Jean-Luc moved to take her hands in his. "No, I would never be
embarrassed to have you on my arm." Then, his eyes twinkling
merrily, he turned and offered her his arm. "Shall we go?"
When they reached the foyer, Beverly's attire had the same
effect on the other three males as it had had on Picard. Michael's
eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head, and
Bernard smiled a slow, appreciative smile. Jean-Luc enjoyed their
discombobulation immensely, but a faint stirring of jealousy
rustled within him. He slid his arm protectively about her waist,
discovering as he did that the back of the gown was virtually
nonexistent to her waist. He firmly ignored the provocative
thoughts that came the moment his palm contacted her skin.
There was not enough room in the first transport, so Picard
volunteered to take a second. Once alone, in the back seat, he
could not help laughing.
"What's so funny, Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked, eyeing him
suspiciously.
"I can't remember ever seeing Michael so lost for words. He
was positively drooling over you." He leant forward to kiss
Beverly's cheek. "Tonight should prove very interesting indeed."
Dinner was delicious; a succulent lamb accompanied by a fine
cabernet. Tall, old-fashioned candles burned at every table;
strolling violinists played aching melodies for the entertainment
of the guests.
Jean-Luc's friends had arranged a table near the old fashioned polished wood dance floor. A single couple moved in the floodlights, dancing an intricate and beautiful Viennese waltz in precise counterpoint to the violins drifting through the crowd below.
Jean-Luc was pleasantly surprised. The entire atmosphere was
lush, sophisticated, but held none of the sexual overtones commonly
associated with this group. Everything was elegant and refined; the
perfect evening for a romantic encounter.
And with that thought, Jean-Luc's gaze sought out his
companion. Beverly was engrossed by the dancing, permitting him
the rare opportunity to study her without being caught. Leisurely,
he studied her face, her smile, the way her hair fell softly
against her neck, and the manner in which the candlelight softened
the vibrant blue of her eyes. She was so beautiful he thought his
heart would break with merely the sight of her.
He felt eyes upon him and jerked out of his reverie to meet
Cassandra Ross' knowing gaze. With a slow, deliberate smile,
Cassandra leaned toward Beverly. "I take it you are enjoying the
show."
"Mmm" was the only reply.
Cassandra looked at Jean-Luc, raising one inquisitive eyebrow.
"I've never seen anyone quite so intrigued by a waltz."
"Beverly is an accomplished dancer herself," volunteered
Jean-Luc.
Michael had not been able to take his eyes off Beverly all
night, but now a faintly speculative look came into his gaze.
"Maybe we could arrange for some dancing later tonight," Michael
offered thoughtfully.
Louise promptly kicked him in the shins.
"Ouch! Hey, what was that for?" Michael demanded.
"You know perfectly well," whispered Louise, looking significantly
at Beverly. "She's off limits, Michael."
"I can *look*, can't I?"
"Just don't touch," she replied. "Never, ever touch."
Applause rose from the tables as the dance number concluded,
and Beverly's attention returned to her dinner companions. They
were chatting about old times. She turned her head to look at
Jean-Luc. He was happily reminiscing with Frans about some
adventure of their youth. He had his arm around her shoulders
- something she generally avoided, but it was comfortable and
reassuring tonight. She shifted closer against him.
He looked around and their eyes met. For a moment her world
stood still. The smile on his face shone in his eyes, and Beverly
wanted suddenly very much to kiss him gently, to thank him for this
wonderful night.
Bernard stifled a yawn. "It's late. I think Maria and I
should be going back to the hotel."
"Yes, I think so, too," said Louise firmly, echoing the
sentiment.
Michael wrenched his eyes away from Beverly and opened his
mouth to protest, but caught the frosty gaze of his wife. "Um, yes,
perhaps that's what's best," he agreed quickly.
Jean-Luc poured the nightcaps and joined Beverly on the sofa.
He downed half the cognac in one gulp, hoping to hide his
nervousness in the gesture. Now that they were alone and the
prospect of sharing a bed with her was imminent, he felt profoundly
anxious, like a child caught painting the walls a new and unanticipated color.
"It was a lovely evening, wasn't it?" Beverly asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, it was. Much better than I expected."
"Expected?" Beverly asked curiously, tucking her legs
underneath her.
Grateful to have something safe to talk about, he launched
into reminiscing, describing some of the earlier "establishments"
his friends had taken him to. He talked for hours, taking the time
to refill their drinks on several occasions. Beverly listened
attentively, her eyes widening.
"I can't imagine *you* even going *in* to one of those
places," she said, shaking her head incredulously. "Jean-Luc,
sometimes I think there are parts of you I don't know at all -
parts you've kept absolutely secret from me."
He swirled the cognac in his glass, watching the fingers of clear
amber liquid trail down the crystal. "You have no idea," he murmured,
downing the last of his drink.
"What? I didn't quite hear that."
He shook his head. "Nothing." Carefully, he placed the glass
on the opulent tray in front of him, oddly relaxed now. The
cognac, his companion, and the scent of her perfume quite
eliminated any reservations he might have had earlier that evening.
"Beverly, I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I think it's
time for bed." Without thinking about it, he reached out to pat
her leg.
It was then he realized that his palm contacted bare flesh. For a moment, he simply stared at his own hand, dimly amazed
that it was resting on Beverly's thigh. The skin beneath his palm
was smooth, creamy, soft as silk and gossamer-delicate, perfect in
every detail. He wondered if it were that soft all over, or if the
silk was confined only to her legs.
Then he remembered the feel of her back against his arm.
The memory aroused certain feelings and responses within him
he knew it would be best not to explore. Hastily, he jerked his
hand away.
"Yes. Well, um, good night," he said, fixing his gaze firmly
on the table in front of him. He pushed his fists against the soft
cushions of the sofa, preparing to stand up and flee, if necessary.
"Aren't you going to kiss me good-night?"
He froze.
Beverly hadn't moved a millimeter since he'd touched her. She
still sat exactly as she had been, legs stretched out, bare heels resting
on the table, the remnants of her drink still in her hands. But long,
loose tendrils of hair had escaped their braid and brushed seductively
against her neck, and her eyes smoldered with challenge. She held a
kind of power over him, and she knew it.
If there was one thing Jean-Luc Picard couldn't resist, it was
a challenge. Slowly, carefully, he leaned forward until their lips
met.
It was meant to be a simple kiss, nothing more; a friendly
kind of kiss: a good night, sleep well, I hope your dreams are
splendid kind of kiss. But it lasted a split second too long, and
the friendship kindled into a deeper, hotter emotion.
Deep within his chest, Jean-Luc Picard's artificial heart began to
pound.
Beverly broke the kiss and rose to her feet. He expected her
to retreat, for this was the normal outcome following such an encounter. Jean-Luc slowly opened his eyes expecting to be alone with is desires.
A delicate ivory hand came into focus. He followed the lines
of her arm, neck, lips. They were soft full and inviting. Tentatively he
reached for the fingers.
The force of her grip was startling, he was pulled up, feet shuffling
to keep pace as he was whisked away into the bedroom.
'Perhaps I am asleep and this is merely a dream.'
Disembodied hands were exploring his chest. The fingers trailed
down his abdomen sending shivers through his body. He closed
his eyes, willing himself to stay with this midnight apparition.
He imagined he could feel the crisp linens beneath his back.
A warm moist breath of air stirred about his loins. Those same
waif's fingers played with his jewels. His body responded to this
erotic fantasy.
The muscles of his thighs were as hard as rocks.,Hips filched
involuntarily as his manlihood was engulfed. A nimble tongue continued to dance across its head. Explosion was imminent.
His eyes shot open. A corner post of the bed resolved into
focus. My god, this is real. A fiery mane prevented him from
observing her actions.
"Beverly!"
The face of an enchantress gazed back. She seductively drew
her teeth across her lower lip. Savoring his salty essence. Like a tigress stalking her prey, she slid up to his chest. Her mouth covered his as she explored his tongue.
Those fingers still controlled him completely. Beverly slowly stradling his hips, her gaze pircing his soul. Agony and ecstasy blended, he was progressively being engulfed by her body.
Soon his ragged breathing fell in step with the swaying of
her hips. She held his hands to her breasts, hard peaks piercing
his palms.
Unbridled moans filled the air. The pace was quickening.
Never before had he been so totally possessed. She controlled
him absolutely.
The huntress was nearing the kill. Three hard, sharp plunges
would finish the chase. She flung her head back as a victorious
cry erupted from her lungs.
He plunged over the edge, all control lost.
Chapter Three
Beverly removed the breakfast tray from the bed. It was well past ten. The bright rays of sun streamed through the sheer curtains. He looked so at home in this setting from the past.
"I don't suppose we can spend today in bed, can we." She asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid not. I doubt Cassandra would not leave us alone."
The eight friends walked through the park land surrounding the Eiffel Tower. The lunch hour had brought out picnicers by the drove. Each tree had beneath its boughs a blanket and basket. The wine was flowing as freely as the laughter.
"Ah, there is nothing quite like springtime in Paris." Mused Frans.
Micheal placed a hand sympatheticaly on his shoulder. "I hate to break this to you buddy, but it is summer."
Beverly gazed up at the structure before her. It seemed much shorter than she had imagined. The iron girders were painted a deep grey. Running up one side was a cablecar, to take people to the observation deck.
Jean-Luc waited with her for the car to return. The others had selected a shade tree and were busy setting out the blankets and food.
Beverly was grateful for Jean-Luc's strong arm about her waist. The car was enclosed by wire mesh, offering a breath taking view as they slowly ascended the structure. A wave of vertigo over took her. She closed her eyes fighting the sensation.
The deck was surrounded by a one meter railing. Jean-Luc had felt her hesitate when he attempted to approach the edge.
"Are you alright." He inquired. Beverly had lost all color from her face.
"There is no reason to be afraid. I wont let you jump." He added playfully.
The vista spread out before them was indeed magnificent. The others appeared as ants beneath the canopy of the tree. Beverly's mood matched her altitude. She was on top of the city of lovers and very much in love.
Clearly Jean-Luc was equally moved. He had encircled her from behind with his arms and was nuzzling her ear. Soft words of affection were uttered in his native tongue.
"What I wouldn't give to be on the holodeck right now." She said. Jean-Luc broke from his peroccupation with her ears to study her inquisitively.
"Crusher to Transporter Chief. Two to beam directly to the CMO's bed." Her tone was official, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her.
"I could suddenly develop a migraine." Said Jean-Luc.
The smile on his lips was irresistible. Beverly turned in his arms to capture his kiss.
Cassandra has been watching Picard and Crusher from afar. "They have to come up for air soon." She mused to herself. Michael followed her gaze.
This looks serious to me. Has Jean-Luc ever mention Beverly to you?"
"As I told you before, the first I knew about her was when I was communicating with him and she walked past in his quarters. I had no idea they were a couple. Picard is very secretive but I don't understand how they have managed to kept their relationship a secret. Well the cat's out of the bag now." A devilish grin overcame Cassandra.
The afternoon had flown by. The group lounged in the lengthening shadows reminiscing days gone by. The last of the wine had been consumed in a toast to old friends and good memories.
Cassandra had cornered Beverly and was attempting to pump her about Jean-Luc. Beverly was not going to fall into this trap and deftly sidestepped the issue.
"What should I wear tonight?" Beverly inquired.
Cassandra smiled mysteriously.
"Something casual and comfortable."
Jean-Luc had dressed for dinner and was pacing the room. Clearly he was nervous about the evening to come. Beverly had tried on several occasions to lighten his mood. Even a quick trip back to the bedroom had no lasting effect. Finally, she had had enough. "What is eating you."
"This is our last evening and apart from the fiasco when we checked in, they have not pulled a single gag. This is very uncharacteristic."
"So, your all up tight because you think they may be planning something. Seems to me they don't have to do a thing, you can work yourself into a frenzy without their assistance." She scolded.
Jean-Luc could see the logic in her words. He was fortunate indeed to have such an friend and lover. He was surprised by how quickly he had adapted to the concept of Beverly as his lover. He shook his head. After so many years of waiting she was his at last. No matter what happened tonight, this reunion had given him his most desired dream.
Dinner was indeed informal. They dined under the stars at an outdoor cafe. A family run restaurant, the wife cooked, the husband doubled as the wine waiter and the their lovely daughter was the waitresses. There were no menus, the food was homemade and the courses preselected. Each course was accompanied by a suitable wine.
The after dinner drinks were served and the group continued to discuss times past. Cassandra was once again fishing for details about Beverly's relationship with Jean-Luc. Beverly could tell Jean-Luc was listening to Cassandra's questions even though he appeared to be engrossed in Frans' story.
"Jean-Luc and I have been friends for more than twenty years." Beverly answered.
"Yet he has not mentioned you once," Cassandra was visibly miffed, she shot a look at Picard who pretended not to notice.
"We have had to be sensitive about our relationship. We do serve on the same ship and Jean-Luc is my commanding officer." This statement had the desired effect.
Cassandra's eyes went wide. How long has this been going on, she wondered.
Beverly was enjoying this game. Time to raise the stakes a bit. "Yes, and to make matters worse, for a couple of years, my son was serving on the same ship."
Picard choked on his wine at this remark. Cassandra looked poised to persue her line of questioning when they were distracted by the argument brewing at the end of the table.
"Why must you ogle every pretty young girl in site!" Louise yelled at Michael.
"A thing of beauty is a thing to behold." Michael joked, trying to diffuse the situation. Unfortunately, Louise was not amused.
Michael moved to place his arm around her shoulder. "Louise, you *know* you are the only woman in my life. You are so much apart of me, I don't know where I finish and where you start."
Beverly saw her chance to repay Michael for some of his earlier antics. She glanced at Jean-Luc who was studying her with a worried look. A small giggle escaped her lips, he knows me so well, she thought.
Louise had heard Beverly's giggle and turned on her. "Would you think it was funny if Jean-Luc was undressing every pretty little thing in sight with *his* eyes?"
"I was not laughing at that. I was thinking how harmless Michael really is. Looking is very different to touching. You have said so yourself may times. Perhaps, a little demonstration would convince you." She had deftly manipulated the challenge in a way neither Michael nor Louise could ignore. They both asked for details in unison.
Beverly tied a blindfold around Michael's eyes. He was doing a good job of covering his nervousness. "Now here are the rules. Three of us are going to kiss you. You can not touch us. You have to guess which of us is Louise. Now you wait there and someone will be right with you."
Everyone was enjoying this game and dived in with gusto. They had all been the butt of Michael's pranks at one time or another. They whispered among themselves trying to decide who would do the kissing. It was Beverly's idea so she was voted in. Louise of course was another. That left Cassandra and Maria to argue over the privilege.
Picard rubbed his fingers over his chin. It was still smooth, he had shaved before dinner. A wicked gleam shone in his eyes. He volunteered to be the third. This brought raucous cries from the group. Beverly argued that Michael would be able to tell from the smell of him he was not female. Louise had solved that problem with a spritz of her perfume.
Beverly was the first to approach Michael. She leaned over and delivered her kiss. A compromise between passion and restraint. Michael swayed in place but said nothing.
Next it was Louise's turn. Her kiss was more passionate. She too was enjoying this charade. Once again Michael held his ground.
Finally it was Jean-Luc's turn. He squared his shoulders and walked forward with an exaggerated macho swagger. Frans and Bernard cupped their hands over their mouths in an attempt to stifle their laughter. Jean-Luc leaned forward and placed a quick chaste kiss on Michael's lips.
Michael had smelled Louise's perfume. He grabbed at Picard with one hand and uttered Louise as he tore off the blindfold.
The expression on both men's faces was priceless. Frans and Bernard were doubled over, racked by laughter. Louise, who's initial reaction was horror, started to giggle.
"Michael, I will never accuse you of leering at women again." Said Louise as she gasped for air. "However, I will keep a sharp eye on you when there are cute men around."
The reunion had ended on a high note. For once the tables had been turned. As they departed company, Michael tipped his cap to Beverly and Jean-Luc, he had been bested at his own game.
The End