Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 14 Apr 2004 14:35:36 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com (whoa nellie) 
 

Title: Double Entendre 
Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)
Series: TNG 
Repost: 5/10
Rating: NC-17 
Codes: P/Vash, W/T, D/f
Synopsis: During the Enterprise E's final fittings, Vash comes onboard
as the ship's Chief Archaeologist. The evil Alternate Picard from the
mirror universe appears to steal the new ship's schematics when he
spots Vash and decides to take her with him. Can Picard stop his
counterpart, saving his ship and the woman he loves?

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles.  We just have a lot more
fun playing with them.
Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail. 

Whoa Nellie's Picard/Vash Romance Fanfiction website: 
http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Galaxy/7926/ 

Whoa Nellie's Sci-Fi Romance Fan Fiction website is at:
http://www.geocities.com/whoa_nellies2000/

CONTINUED FROM PART 4

	At that moment, Mr. Worf stood outside the door to Deanna's quarters.
 All of his warrior training failed him when he reached to ring her
door chime.  That she was mad at him was obvious, why she was angry
was not so obvious.  A box of her favorite chocolates was gripped
tightly in one hand.  He braced himself and rang the chime.

	"Go away," came the muffled response from inside the quarters.

	"Deanna, it's me."  Worf wasn't exactly sure what to say.

	"Go away."

	"Let me in.  I want to talk to you."  He was the security chief, it
wasn't as if he couldn't force his way in.  Somehow he figured that
would not be the right way to handle this, however.

	"Oh, all right.  Come in," Deanna decided that if she didn't let him
in, he would stand out there all night, talking to her door.  She
didn't need half the crew listening to the details of their
relationship.

	Worf entered the room very slowly.  Deanna was holding a glass of
some sort of chocolate confection and standing in a far corner of the
main room which she had obviously been pacing.  She had changed her
clothes.  She was wearing a soft blue dressing gown that fell across
her curves and down to barely brush the floor.

	"I was wrong.  You were right.  I'm sorry."  Worf didn't know what he
was apologizing for, but maybe an apology would soothe her.  Riker had
told him once, early in their relationship, that the only eight words
he needed to know when dealing with Deanna were: 'I was wrong, You
were right, I'm sorry'.  Hopefully, they would work now.

	"Oh, Worf," Deanna was on the verge of tears again.

	Worf walked over to her and gently removed the glass from her hand. 
He set it out of harm's way--his harm's way--and replaced it with the
box of chocolates he had brought for her.  He leaned down to brush his
lips against hers.  He took the lid off the box and set it down.  He
carefully selected a chocolate morsel and held it up to her lips in a
gesture of peace.  She took the chocolate in her mouth and licked the
remaining chocolate from his fingers.  She laid the box on the table
beside them and moved into Worf's warm embrace.

	Deanna started to speak, but Worf placed two fingers against her full
lips and shushed her.  He replaced his fingers with his lips in a
deep, searching kiss.  Deanna pulled her head away from his and looked
up into his dark brown eyes.

	"Would you at least try something Betazed, please?"

	"What do you think I'm doing now?"  Worf lowered his head to taste
the softness of her neck.

	Deanna arched into his mouth.  Arguments forgotten, all she could
think about was the mindless pleasure this man could bring her.  As
his arms pulled her into his strong embrace, her hands found and
removed the tie that bound his hair back.  Dropping the tie, she
entwined her fingers into his long hair to bring his mouth back up to
hers.

	Worf pulled back and looked down the length of her body.  He could
see the outline of her nipples pressed against the flimsy fabric of
her gown.

	"What are you wearing underneath this?" as he spoke, his hands were
busily caressing her curves, trying to find out exactly what was
underneath the dressing gown.

	"Why don't you find out for yourself," came Deanna's erotic
invitation.

	At her suggestion, Worf dropped to his knees.  His hands found the
bottom of her gown and slowly moved up under it.  As he went, his
hands pushed the gown higher and higher on her body until he
discovered that she was wearing nothing underneath. When he had pushed
the gown to her waist, Deanna took over and quickly pulled the
dressing gown over her head and dropped it to the floor.  Worf cupped
her hips in his hands and began pressing urgent kisses to the smooth
skin of her stomach.  Deanna gripped his head in her own hands and
pulled his face closer to her. When his mouth moved lower, her knees
almost buckled beneath her.  His tongue probed her deeply, the coarse
sandpaper-like length scraping her, stoking the knot of desire.   He
caressed, stroked, and possessed her with only his lips and tongue. 
The sensations he was creating with his incredible mouth were
overwhelming.  She moved her hips against him as she pulled his face
even closer to her.  Finally, the knot burst and a shattering release
shook her.  Worf gathered her into his arms and carried her off into
the bedroom like a conquering warrior.

	In the bedroom, Worf placed Deanna in the center of her bed.  As he
removed his clothes, Deanna's eyes raked down his Adonis-like form. 
His broad, powerful shoulders offset his massive, bulging chest.  The
expanse of his chest tapered down into a trim firm waist.  Corded
muscles ran the length of his long, sinewy legs.   Joining her on the
bed, he quickly set about rebuilding the fires in her.  Pressing her
down into the bed with the weight of his body, his hands explored the
length of her curvaceous form.  His fingers found her moist warmth,
stroking and caressing her erotically as his tongue had just moments
before.
 
	Deanna's hands moved feverishly about his massive back.  With every
move, she could feel muscles ripple and strain beneath her hands. 
Incredibly, she felt his thumb rubbing her as his fingers stroked and
filled her.  Whimpering and pushing herself at his hand, her hips
jerked as Worf brought her to another release.  Sliding her hands down
his tight, muscular form, she pulled him in to settle between her
thighs.  Deanna grabbed at an earlobe with her small, white teeth and
pulled at it.

	Worf could feel the soft, smoothness of Deanna's thighs pressing into
his own rough, hard thighs.  With his hands and his mouth, he explored
her breasts with delightful thoroughness.  Worf could tell by her
mindless whimpers and frantic movements, that Deanna could wait no
longer.  When he finally drove himself far up into her waiting body,
he could feel her body gripped with spasms of pleasure.  Without
stopping, Worf continued to drive himself into her relentlessly.

	When Worf finally abandoned his erotic torture, Deanna felt her body
explode as he entered her.  He continued to drive into her and before
the last of the spasms had even subsided, she felt another, even more
intense release tear through her.  Arching her back, she could not
contain the mindless scream that ripped from her throat.

	'My Worf,'  had she said that or only thought it?  Lost in the waves
of pleasure consuming her body, she could only guess.

	Worf jerked with surprise when he heard Deanna's voice call to him in
his head.  When her thought reached him, he could no longer hold
himself in check.  With one final lunge, he allowed himself to be
claimed by the shudders already threatening to overtake him.  Almost
immediately, he rolled to the side to avoid crushing Deanna with his
full body weight.  They lay there, side by side, feeling their racing
hearts slow back to normal.

	"I heard you."  Worf was looking everywhere in the room but down at
the beautiful woman next to him.

	"What?" Deanna sat up and looked down at Worf.

	"In my head, before, I heard you say 'my Worf'."  Worf sat up and
took Deanna into his arms.  He nudged her head down to rest against
his chest. "Is that what you've been trying to get me to learn?"

	"Yes.  Hearing my thoughts is the first step."  Deanna pulled away
and smiled up at her mate and soon-to-be husband. "And with some work,
learning to send me your thoughts."

	"How about another lesson?"  With that Worf drew Deanna back down and
again pressed her into the softness of her mattress.

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

	Geordi walked back to his quarters, bereft of poker chips.  'I must
be a glutton for punishment', the engineer thought to himself.  After
playing poker with Riker for more than five years, a person should
know better.  He shook his head.

	"Data to LaForge,"  his commlink sounded.

	"Go ahead, Data."

	"I was wondering if you could meet me in Ten Forward." 

	Geordi rubbed his brow. "I have to get up early tomorrow, Data.  I
have a meeting with Lieutenant Barclay."

	"This will only require a few moments.  I need to discuss a personal
matter with you."

	Geordi grinned.  If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn
that Data sounded as giddy as a school boy.  "I'm on my way, Data. 
LaForge out."

	In Ten Forward, Geordi found Data sitting at the furthest table from
the entrance.  Two glasses of Alterian water were already sitting on
the table.  Geordi made his way over and sat down across from the
android.  He picked up one of the glasses and took a long drink.  He
looked expectantly across the table at Data.

	"I was just wondering if you had noticed the red evening gown that
Councilmember Vash wore the other evening?"  Data sounded somewhat
awkward, like an adolescent.

	Geordi smiled.  What man in the room hadn't.  "As a matter of fact, I
did.  I gather that you did as well."  Geordi knew that there was more
to Data's summons than a conversation about fashion.

	Data nodded.  "I found myself experiencing a strange..."  his voice
trailed off, embarrassed.  Even with a complete, unabridged thesaurus
and dictionary in his positronic brain, he found that words just could
not describe what he had felt.

	Geordi leaned back in his chair and took another sip of water.  Ever
since Data's reaction to Vash at the reception, he had a feeling that
something like this was going to happen. "So, the captain's lady has
you all hot and bothered?"

	The android protested, "I am an android.  I am physically incapable
of becoming, as you so elegantly put it, 'hot and bothered'.  I merely
experienced a unique and indescribable emotion via my emotion chip and
I wished to explore that experience with you in an attempt to
understand further the complexities of these new feelings."

	"What's there to understand?  You have the hots for Vash. It's your
first crush, Data."

	Data rolled his golden eyes and mimicked a sigh of exasperation.  "As
I just informed you, I do not have the capacity to have the 'hots' for
anyone.  And what exactly is a crush?"

	Geordi leaned forward and leaned his elbows on the table. Was it his
imagination or did Data look embarrassed?  "A crush is, well, it's
puppy love."

	At this point, Data interjected, "I am unclear, Geordi. What do young
canines have to do with human emotions?"

	Geordi laughed.  "That's what they call it when you feel like you
love someone but it's not real.  Puppy love just means that it's young
and won't last.  Puppies aren't puppies forever, they become dogs,
see?"

	Data wasn't sure he understood this concept, but he did want to get
on with this so he nodded somewhat hesitantly.  "I think I understand.
 But, back to this crush thing.  What is it like? What happens when
you get this crush?"

	"Well, it's dreamy and scary and exhilarating all at the same time. 
It's like nothing you've ever felt before."

	"Have you ever had a crush, Geordi?"

	Geordi smiled.  There was nothing like a walk down memory lane.  "I
had a crush on my physics instructor when I was twelve. Her name was
Rachel Devereux.  I was always the first to hand in my homework and I
almost always stayed to help clean the lab.  I was as helpless as a
puppy."

	"How did you resolve this adolescent crisis?"  Data looked down into
his glass.  He had to know, he just did not necessarily want to ask.

	"I don't know.  I just got over it," Geordi sighed.  "There was no
grand appeal, no confrontation, no fight.  Things just ran their
course.  I finished the class, moved on to other classes and never saw
her again."

	Data looked out of the skylight at Planitia station. "I have studied
much of the classic literature.  Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's
Dream, Cyrano de Bergerac.  From these works, my analysis is that
romantic feelings should be dealt with, explored, analyzed, discussed
. . . ."

	"I get the point, Data.  They probably should be," Geordi answered. 
"But not all the time.  Sometimes a person feels something for someone
else and the best thing to do is to do nothing.  If it's meant to be,
it will happen.  If it isn't-"

	"'A rose by any other name-"  Data began to interrupt.

	"May only be a daisy," Geordi's voice was a little forceful,  "Love
and roses, wine and passion.  In reality that's only a very small part
of it.  Reality takes time.  And then after all of that, sometimes it
just doesn't work out."

	Data was silent.

	"Look," Geordi sighed, "There is a world of difference between having
a crush on someone and being in love.  I wish I could tell you that
you that you will know the difference when it happens but you might
not.  In fact, you probably won't most of the time."

	Data looked at his friend.  "I have thought about marriage on many
occasions.  I have always wanted to believe that one day I will find
someone to share my life.  What if this never happens?"

	"I wouldn't jump to any conclusions just yet.  You have to take these
things in stride.  Vash and the captain are definitely involved,"
Geordi looked straight into Data's eyes.  He was almost afraid to ask
the next question.  "Data, exactly why did you decide to interfere in
their personal problems?"

	"The captain hurt the feelings of Councilmember Vash very badly," 
Data's voice and expression became protective.  "He blamed her for not
knowing the difference between the impostor and himself.  He knew
there was no way she could have known.  He had no right to treat her
so coldly.  She deserved to be treated better than that."

	"So you decided to become her champion."  Geordi shook his head.  God
protects children, fools, and obviously, androids. "What you did was
dangerous, but it seems to have worked out for the best.  From now on,
let the captain worry about Vash.  It wouldn't be fair for you to
intervene more.  Not to the captain, Vash, or you?"

	Data looked puzzled.  "In what way would it be unfair to me?"

	"Data, Vash is in love with another man.  Another man that just
happens to be a friend and your commanding officer.  Now having your
heart broken is one thing, losing two of your friends on top of that
is something else."  Geordi finished his water and stood up.  "All I'm
saying is that you should focus more on what you have and less on what
you don't.  You'll find that you'll be much happier."

	"And if I never fall in love?"  Data sounded very depressed.

	"Love is everything there is in the universe and much, much more. 
But sometimes, it's much less.  Take stock of your friends.  Many
times I should have and didn't."  Geordi walked around the table and
put his hand on Data's shoulder   "If you need me, you know where to
find me."

	Geordi left to get some sleep before his meeting with Barclay.  Data
stayed at the table.  When Geordi reached the door to the lounge, he
looked back at Data who sat there looking for all the world like a
lost puppy.

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

	After a long time, Data rose from the table.  He squared his
shoulders and calmly walked out of the lounge to make his way back to
his quarters.  Two junior officers, walking in the corridor,
straightened at his approach.  Saluting was outdated in Starfleet, but
the presence of a senior officer still required some form of an
acknowledgment.  Data responded with a slight nod.  Geordi had told
him not to interfere more.  He had only wanted to help Vash and the
captain settle their differences. What did Geordi think he was going
to do?  Did Geordi actually think he would . . .  How had Commander
Riker once put it?   Did Geordi actually think he would put the moves
on Vash?  It was an impossibility.

	Data entered his quarters and noticed that Spot was asleep with her
kittens snuggled in around her.  It gave him an idea of how he could
take his mind off his conversation with Geordi. Since he had eight
hours before he had to be on the bridge, he decided to engage his
dream program.  Data stretched himself out on his bed.  Closing his
eyes, he began to dream.

	Data immediately recognized the setting.  He was alone in the room
containing the famous Round Table of Camelot.  This was one of his
favorite dream sequences.  He was dressed in an emerald green silk
tunic that was belted at the waist and hung to just above his knees.  
Black leather breeches and boots completed his costume.  Holding the
jeweled encrusted  hilt of a shiny steel broad sword, he was standing
behind a chair at the large table.  The chair directly to the right of
King Arthur's seat, Sir Lancelot's chair.  The room was lit by the
many torches hanging on the stone walls and warmed by the roaring fire
in the huge fireplace on the wall just to the right of him.

	"Sir Lancelot," came the gentle feminine voice from the doorway
behind him.

	"Yes, your Majesty."  Data turned and dropped to genuflect to the
queen, his eyes lowered and both hands on the hilt of his sword,
standing it in front of him.

	"Please rise, sir knight.  The king and the rest of the knights have
left for Cameliard.  We are alone.  I assume the king asked you to
stay behind as my protector."  He heard her shut the heavy wood door
and slide the bolt shut.

	"Yes, your Majesty."  He stood up and gazed at the beautiful sight of
Queen Guinevere.  She was in a midnight blue gown made of the finest
velvet.  The gown skimmed her delicate frame and fell into generous
folds around her legs, just sweeping the stone floor.  The gentle
swell of her breasts strained against its low square neckline.  In her
brunette hair was a gold crown, encrusted with sapphires and diamonds.
 The dark blue of the gown only added to the effect of her dazzling
blue eyes.  As those eyes swept over him, her lips slightly parted in
a silent but seductive invitation.  This was not how this dream
normally went.

	She gracefully moved to stand in front of him  She laid her hands on
his cheeks, her palms felt cool and soft against his face.  "We are
alone, my love," she whispered.  As she moved in closer, he could feel
her warm breath on his face.  Standing on tiptoe, she raised her face
to his and captured his lips in a gentle but passionate kiss.  As her
lips continued to move sensuously over his, Data felt himself
responding. The sword clattered to the floor, unnoticed.  He wrapped
his arms around her, crushing her supple curves to him.  He could feel
the soft rich velvet of her gown underneath his hands.  He felt her
arms wrap around his neck as she tried to pull him even closer.  He
deepened the kiss and let his hands search the feminine contours
confined in the lush material.  Her hands moved down to his chest and
around to his back.  As his hands continued to glide over the velvet
covering her body, she broke the kiss, threw her head back, and drew
in a deep, gasping breath.  Data gently bent her back slightly, and
kissed his way down her neck to thoroughly explore the tantalizing
cleavage exposed by the low neckline of the dress.  He kissed his way
back up to her mouth, seizing her lips in a kiss so possessive it
surprised him.

	Queen Guinevere broke the kiss, pulling back slightly.  As she gazed
at him with desire in her blue eyes, she brought her hands around and
ran them over his chest.  She let her hands drop to the tie of his
belt, unfastening it with quick, deft movements and dropping it to the
floor.  Her hands moved back up to his chest to undo the lacing of his
tunic.  She pushed it open and pulled it down his arms so that she
could explore his bare chest. Data could not take his eyes off of the
elegant vision in front of him.  She was radiant in the golden glow of
the firelight. She let her hands glide down farther, slowly brushing
the front of his breeches.  Data gasped.  I probably should end this
dream program, he thought briefly.

	Dropping her hands to her sides she stepped around him so that she
was standing directly in front of the fireplace.  He turned to face
her.  She looked stunning, her silhouette backlit by the fire.

	"What do you desire, my lord?" Guinevere asked in a sultry murmur as
she reached behind her back and undid the clasps to her gown.  She let
the velvet very slowly slide down her, revealing herself to him one
inch at a time.  It was a good thing Data was an android, because he
discovered that he was no longer breathing.  His eyes raked across
every inch of her, the roundness of her breasts, the slim tapered
waist, and the curve of her hips.  There was not one imperfection to
be found.  On second thought, Data decided, perhaps there was no need
to end this at this point.

	He stepped toward her and took her into his arms, carefully lowering
them both to the bearskin rug on the floor in front of the fireplace. 
Kneeling above her, he lowered his mouth to gently nibble and tease
the crest of one breast as he let one of his hands caress the
impossibly soft skin of her thigh.  He tenderly rubbed the palm of his
other hand over the nipple of her other breast.   She wrapped her arms
around his neck and groaned, arching into him.  Removing his hand from
her breast, he lifted his mouth from her just long enough to switch to
the other breast.  After paying the same homage to that breast, he
kissed his way up to her neck.  He let his hands discover and enjoy
every inch of her.  As he let his lips softly devour the tender spot
where her neck met her shoulders, his hands slid up her body from her
hips to stroke the skin underneath her breasts.  His hands slid up to
cup the fullness of her breasts manipulating each hard, straining
nipple with his thumbs.  Data felt her move sinuously beneath him.  He
stopped for a brief second to savor the contrasting sensations he was
feeling.  He could feel Lady Guinevere's body, soft and satiny beneath
him.  He could also feel a contrasting roughness from the bearskin rug
beneath them. The fire warmly toasted both of their bodies, fanning
their flames of desire.  After a time, he let one hand move back down
to massage her sensitive inner thigh.  He very gradually maneuvered
himself until he had settled himself between her supple thighs.  Her
hands moved between their bodies to the waistband of his breeches,
undoing them and freeing him.

	"Please, love me!" she begged him in a fervent whisper.  She wrapped
her arms around him, running her hands frantically up and down his
spine.

	He held her hips firmly and quickly lowered himself into her.  He
kept his movements fast and strong until he felt her start to peak. 
He then stopped and held both of them perfectly still until her body
had calmed just enough.  Then he resumed his original pace, stopping
again just as she started to peak.  He could hear the queen's ragged
breathing and was briefly astonished to note that his own breathing
was less than even.  He repeated this two more times.  Each time Data
stopped she started to whimper, begging him to keep going and
scratching her nails down his back.  Once, when he had stopped, he
looked down into her face to see her eyes closed, her mouth open, and
her face contorted with desperate need.  Tenderly, he leaned down to
gently pull her lower lip between his teeth.  She moaned into his
mouth, frantically trying to arch her body into his.  Finally, after
the fourth time he had stopped them, he resumed his movements and
continued until he felt her entire body shudder with release.  To his
complete surprise, he felt some strangely delightful, involuntary
spasms course through his own body.  As he realized what he had just
experienced, he heard her scream out, "DATA!"

	Data sat bolt upright in his bed, his eyes wide open.  He quickly
looked around his room to find that he was alone.  He let out a deep
breath and ran his hand across his forehead   So that is what Geordi
meant by hot and bothered.  He had to admit it was an accurate
description of how he felt at the moment.  He activated his
communicator.

	"Data to Counselor Troi"

	"Troi here.  Data, it's kind of late."

	"I apologize for the late hour; Counselor.  I feel I really need to
see you about a personal matter right away, if it is at all possible?"

	"All right, Data.  Meet me in my office in a half an hour."

	"Thank you, Counselor.  Data out."

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

	In Deanna's quarters, Deanna was trying to get out of the clutches of
a Klingon determined not to let her out of bed.

	"Worf, let me go.  I have to meet Data and I'm sure you would prefer
I get dressed before I go."

	"It's the middle of the night.  What emergency could that android
have in the middle of the night.  If he's having a nervous breakdown,
call engineering.  I'm not finished with you here," Worf growled
menacingly.  He could not believe it.  Could they never be left alone
to mate.  It seemed that every time they did, someone called one of
them away.

	"Worf, he sounded upset."  Deanna had succeeded in freeing herself
and was now standing by the bed, pulling on a comfortable jumpsuit

	"I'm upset.  I'm going to rip that android limb from mechanical
limb."

	"Worf, that's enough.  I am the ship's counselor and Data is a member
of this crew; not to mention the only person on this ship you couldn't
rip limb from limb."  Deanna finished putting her hair up and sat down
on the bed next to Worf.  "Now go to sleep, I'll be back when I can." 
 She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

	As she left her quarters and headed toward her office, Deanna
wondered what the problem could be.  Data had sounded very upset on
the comm, she wondered if perhaps he had a nightmare. For someone
unused to negative emotions, a nightmare would probably have been very
scary.

	Data was already in her office when she arrived.  She got a cup of
hot chocolate from the replicator and sat down across from a very
concerned Data.

	"So, what seems to be the problem, Data?"

	"I am somewhat confused, Counselor," Data began hesitantly. "I have
had an unusual dream and am unsure how to analyze it."

	"Well, why don't you tell me about it and we can look at it
together."  Deanna sat back in her chair congratulating herself on
hitting the nail on the head.  He had probably dreamed he had lost the
emotion chip and was back to the way he was before.

	"Well, Counselor, I activated my dream program earlier this evening
to distract myself from other issues.  The dream that began was a very
familiar one.  I was Sir Lancelot from King Arthur's court.  I have
spent many dream sequences slaying large, fierce dragons with a
broadsword or bringing peace and justice to the realm of Camelot."

	"I see Data.  And how was this dream different from your previous
dreams."  Deanna took another sip of chocolate   At this rate, she
would be here with Data all night.

	"I was not doing battle in this dream."  Data sat back in his chair,
clearly unsure of how to proceed.

	"What were you doing in this dream?"

	"I was standing by the Round Table in Camelot.  Suddenly, I heard a
voice behind me.  It was Queen Guinevere.  She stated that King Arthur
and the rest of the knights had gone.  She referred to me as her
love."

	"Well Data, it is an established part of the legend that Sir Lancelot
and Queen Guinevere were lovers."  Deanna thought back fondly to one
of the greatest love triangles of all times.

	"Yes, Counselor.  I am aware of that; however . . . " Data trailed
off, not sure how to explain the problem.

	"Data, I can't help you if I don't understand what's bothering you. 
You had a dream that was slightly different than other dreams.  Your
dream included a woman who was in love with you but I'm not sure what
about that bothers you."  Deanna finished her hot chocolate and set
the empty cup on the table beside her.  This didn't exactly sound like
a bad dream to her.

	"The woman in my dream, Queen Guinevere, was Councilmember Vash, the
head of the archaeology department onboard the Enterprise."

	Deanna sat forward in surprise.  Data had dreamed about Vash?  Well,
things were definitely getting more interesting.

	"Go on, Data."

	Data began to talk then stopped, not exactly sure how to put this
delicately.  "We, that is.... well..... in my dream, Sir Lancelot and
Lady Guinevere consummated their affair."

	Deanna barely managed to get her poker face in place.  Data had
dreamed about having sex with Vash.  This was really good. "I see. 
Why does that upset you so much?  It is true to the setting of the
dream."

	"But this was not Guinevere, this was Vash.  And when she, that is,
when she... reached the point that is typically attained during
intercourse, she screamed my name.  She called me Data."

	Deanna bought herself some time by taking her glass back over to the
replicator and getting a fresh cup of hot chocolate. "Data, what you
had was an erotic dream.  But that is all it was, a dream."

	"But everything felt so real.  I could feel her body... I mean her
presence so clearly.  How could I betray the captain like that?  With
someone he is obviously involved with?"  Data was obviously very upset
by the fact that Vash had been the woman in his dream.

	"But it wasn't real.  It was just a dream, Data.  You haven't
betrayed anyone.  How can someone be held responsible for something
over which they have no control?  You didn't actually do those things
to Vash, you dreamed about doing them."  Deanna could see that Data
was distraught, but she was having some difficulty keeping a straight
face.  Data called her in the middle of the night to psychoanalyze a
wet dream.

	"But, Counselor, I have had feelings for Vash.  I have experienced
some strange reactions while in her presence beginning with the
welcoming reception last evening.  Geordi has informed me that I have
a crush on her.  So having her in my dream was my unconscious acting
out my innermost thoughts and desires, right?"

	"Data, we have had this talk before about dreams.  Sometimes a little
knowledge is a dangerous thing.  Even Freud said that sometimes a
cigar is just a cigar.  Ok, you have a crush on Vash, given the
problems between Captain Picard and her, she has probably been on your
mind.  When you started the dream program, your thoughts of her
intruded on your program and incorporated your feelings toward her
into the context of the dream.  You didn't intentionally put her
there."

	"So what you are telling me is that perhaps I should not use my dream
program until my feelings for Vash have been resolved, correct?"  Data
was feeling better now that he had a concrete solution to his dilemma.

	"No, Data.  Think about your dream.  Who did it hurt?  Does anyone
other than me know you've had this dream?  Would you really do those
things to Vash here?"  Deanna thought perhaps a major reality check
might help Data put things in perspective.

	"Well, it did not cause anyone distress.  I most certainly would
never tell anyone else about this dream, nor would I be compelled to
act out those thoughts with Vash anywhere at any time."  Data thought
about those facts.

	"Data, did you enjoy the dream?"  Deanna was curious about Data's own
performance in the dream, but professionalism prevented her from
asking outright.

	"It was quite enjoyable, Counselor.  In fact, I believe I also . . .
reached that same point that Lady Guinevere in my dream reached."

	Deanna couldn't believe what she was hearing.  Well that did answer
her unasked question about his performance.  "Well then, Data.  I
think you've answered your own question.  It didn't hurt anyone and
you would never do those things in reality.  So where is the harm. 
Everyone fantasizes and dreams about things like that now and then. 
It's harmless escapism.  And it did get your mind off of your other
distractions for a time being, did it not?  So the dream served it's
purpose."

	"I suppose you are correct, Counselor.  Perhaps I should not attempt
to control my dreams as much.  Letting my dreams go where they will
and involve whatever subjects they choose would be more human, would
it not?"

	"Yes, Data."  By George, Deanna thought, he just might be getting it.

	"Well, then.  Thank you very much for your time, counselor. If you
will excuse me, I still have several hours in which to run another
dream program."

	As Deanna watched Data leave her office, she smiled, shook her head,
and filed this one away under 'Believe It or Not'.

END PART 5

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

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Awards Tech Support

http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/

No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards

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