Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 16 Apr 2004 16:03:00 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com (whoa nellie) Title: Beauty and the Q Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com) Series: TNG Repost 2/4 Rating: PG Codes: P/ Vash Synopsis: This story takes place in Whoa Nellie's "Double Entendre" time line; however the story can stand alone. Q tries to persuade Vash to leave Picard and travel the Universe with him. The entity places Picard and Vash in the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale. Can Picard convince Vash to stay with him? Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail. As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them. 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 1 After another flash of blinding white light, Picard rubbed his eyes and reflected on just how annoying he found that particular Q-phenomenon. As things came into focus, he surveyed his surroundings. No longer in the easy-chair in his quarters, he was sitting in a large, mahogany chair. The surrounding room, with its dark stone walls, heavy mahogany furniture, thin windows and elaborate tapestries, looked to be a tower bedroom in a gothic castle. He found himself dressed in nineteenth century clothing: a black evening jacket open to reveal a grey waistcoat with a crisp, white shirt and a perfectly tied, white linen cravat. Black breaches and shiny, leather boots finished off the costume. Picard turned to see Q, dressed as a Starfleet Admiral, leaning against one of the posts of the huge four poster bed and he sighed with disgust, "Q." "I find Vash's actions totally perplexing. To choose to stay with you, when she could go with moi?" The entity made a slightly dismissive gesture toward Picard with his hand, "Oh, I'm sure the typical human female finds you quite the dashing hero. However, Vash is more complex and certainly more intelligent than the typical plodding human." "If that's your way of saying Vash is more intelligent than I am, I agree. I think she's brilliant," Picard answered with a smile. "You really do find her, as your Sheriff of Nottingham character put it, intriguing, don't you?" "I simply don't understand why she would pass up an opportunity to explore the universe with me to explore the bowels of humanity with you," Q huffed. "So, that's what all this is about." Picard stood up and faced the entity, "Vash chose to stay with me and now you're jealous." "That's absurd, Picard!" Q sputtered. "Is it? You spend quite a bit of time with us lowly humans taking on our form. Didn't occur to you that over time you might start to take on some of our characteristics too?" Picard asked the entity. "Impossible," Q retorted arrogantly. "I don't think it's impossible; in fact, I would say it's quite probable. You've admitted to finding Vash intriguing. She is a very beautiful, alluring woman and you spent two years with her in, I assume, your present human male form. Your reactions have been very much those of a spurned suitor." Picard's face showed almost open amusement. "From the moment Vash and I started our relationship, I realized there would be the occasional suitor vying for her affections. Civilian scientists, dignitaries, younger officers, even a few fellow ship captains have made overtures. I have to admit, it never occurred to me that you would be one of them." "Captain, do you really believe you could pose any real challenge to me in a rivalry for her affections?" Q asked mockingly. "It has nothing to do with challenging you," Picard reasoned calmly. "It's a matter of choice, Vash's choice. Vash is with me because she has chosen to be with me." "Her libido has chosen it, you mean," Q countered. "It goes deeper than that, much deeper than that," Picard informed him. "Really, mon Capitaine,"Q baited him wickedly. "I wonder if our beautiful archaeologist would still choose to be with you if she didn't find you so heroic looking?" "What are you up to, Q? And where is Vash?" Picard asked, instantly wary due to the entity's tone. The captain's voice turned to cold steel, as he warned, "If you have hurt her in any way--" "Relax, mon Capitaine, she is safe," Q interrupted Picard. Smiling, he gestured to a large, ornate mirror hanging on the wall. "If you walk over to the mirror, I will show you the answers to both of your questions." "All right, Q," Picard started to walk over to the mirror. "I'll bite." "How apropos, Picard," the entity smirked. Picard shot Q a quizzical glance just before reaching the mirror. Looking into the mirror, Picard's jaw dropped as he suddenly understood. Reflected back at him from the mirror was a leonine humanoid. A long, tawny mane flowed from the head of a beast; the snout protruded out from the face and sported glistening razor-sharp fangs. In astonishment, he raised his hands to his face watching the creature in the mirror do the same with fur-covered, pawlike hands. Lean, powerful muscles tightened in anger underneath his evening clothes. His own steel-grey eyes glared back at him from the lion-beast in the mirror. Picard's voice was a low growl, "What have you done?" Q stood behind Picard and smiled into the mirror. Seeming insufferably pleased with himself, the entity chuckled, "I was remembering a conversation where the lovely lady archaeologist described you as a jungle cat." "I'm sure she was speaking metaphorically!" Picard ground out, knowing Q was taking out of context some innocent, albeit flippant, remark made by Vash. "I could ask her," Q retorted gleefully. "Where is she?" Picard hissed. "Temper, temper, mon Capitaine. Your fangs are showing," the entity baited, then sighed, "Oh, very well." As Picard watched, the image in the mirror changed to show a room in another tower of the castle. It looked to be a lady's bedchamber with a very feminine decor of elaborate French Provincial furnishings. Vash was reclining on a chaise lounge apparently unconscious, a fact that worried Picard. Picard turned to glare at the entity menacingly, "Q . . ." "She's simply asleep," Q interrupted. "Taking a short cat-nap, you might say." Picard turned back to the mirror. Vash matched her Victorian-like surroundings, dressed in a sapphire-blue satin ballgown and matching heeled slippers. The full skirt of her gown, with its countless layers of satin and lace petticoats underneath, spilled over the sides of the chair to the floor. With every breath, her décolletage flirted from behind a fan of chantilly lace that spanned the deep, square neckline of the gown. The long sleeves of the gown ended with points at her wrists in a flourish of more chantilly lace. The fitted bodice emphasized the full curves of her bustline and her tiny waistline, too tiny in fact. Picard suddenly realized that Vash was wearing a tightly-cinched corset. 'Q better hope he is truly immortal,' Picard thought to himself. 'Because when Vash wakes up to find her waist cinched in that tight and her bustline pushed that high, she will do her damndest to kill him.' Picard knew the outfit had to be uncomfortable, to say the very least. Nevertheless, he had to admit that she was breathtakingly lovely in it. She looked almost angelic with her hair pulled up into a cascade of soft curls and blue satin ribbons. Vash brought one arm up to rest across her stomach, with something clutched tightly in her hand. She murmured Picard's name and shifted uneasily in her sleep. Tenderly touching the surface of the mirror, Picard responded with a softly whispered, "On my way, petite amie." Pulling himself away from the image in the mirror, Picard drew himself up to his most authoritative bearing. As he turned to leave, his tone was curt, "All right Q, you've had your fun. Now, are you going to tell me where she is or do I do a room by room search?" "She is in the room at the other end of the hallway. But I wouldn't go there just yet, Captain," Q warned. "In your present form you might frighten her." Picard rolled his eyes, "She's used to your little games and I was planning on identifying myself before she saw me." "She won't understand you," Q smirked. "What?" Picard turned back to face Q. "Are you familiar with your Earth's legend of 'Beauty and the Beast?'" Q asked. "Of course, it's a classic fairy tale," Picard answered, not liking the direction the conversation was taking. "The spell trapping the prince in the body of a beast can only be broken by a maiden confessing her love for him. However, that would be much too easy in this case. We simply can't have that, can we?" Q chuckled. "Oh, of course not," Picard sighed, sounding very annoyed. "I knew you would agree. So, you will not be able to speak until Vash recognizes you," Q nonchalantly leaned against the wall next to the mirror. Gesturing to Picard's now large, paw-like hands, he added, "You can still wield a broadsword with the best of them, but I doubt anyone would be able to decipher your penmanship." "Q, I'm not amused! Now, put an end to this little game," Picard commanded. "I have set the rules and now I have no more control over this little game than you do." Q gazed up at the ceiling of the room. "Vash will probably assume, and correctly so, that Riker and the rest of your little minions are in the village in the valley below the castle. Knowing Vash, she will try to reach them for help. The real question is what dangers lurk in the castle or in the woods between the castle and the village." With that, Q vanished in a flash of light. "Q!" Picard bellowed. As his leonine roar echoed through the castle, Picard noticed in the mirror that Vash, suddenly awake, had sat bolt upright in her chair and her eyes were wide with fear. ........................................ "What was that?" Vash gasped as she stared wide-eyed at her surroundings. Taking in the elaborate French decor of the castle bedchamber, she realized she wasn't on the Enterprise. Unless . . . "Computer, end holodeck program." Nothing; no beeps, no whistles, the room stayed the same. "Oh well, I knew it wouldn't work but it was worth a shot," she muttered. Of course, there really was only one explanation for her current environment. "Okay, Q, I know it's you. The jig is up. This place has your name all over it. I'm really not in the mood for this, so, just come on out," Vash demanded loudly. As she drew in a deep breath to huff in exasperation, she was cut short by the pain from a whalebone stay in the corset that dug into her ribcage. Swearing under her breath, she hoisted herself from the chaise lounge and made her way to the ornate cheval mirror. Vash rolled her eyes as she studied her reflection. "Oh peachy-keen, another one of these damsels-in-distress roles." Vash immediately noticed that the necklace and bracelet Jean-Luc had given her for her birthday were gone. Disappointed by the loss, she wondered what Q was up to this time. Suddenly, she realized that Q had inadvertently left her with the most important gift from that evening. Vash opened her hand and looked down at Jean-Luc's academy ring laying in her palm. She smiled remembering how he had told her that he had never asked any one to wear it and how he blushed when he told her that he would like her to wear it. Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Federation's flagship, asking her to be his steady girl by giving her his school ring to wear. The tender affection behind his request made the ring her most priceless treasure. It had simply been the most utterly charming thing any man had ever done while courting her. Carefully, Vash slipped the ring's gold chain around her neck. The ring lay nestled in the cleft of her cleavage, just below the lace on the neckline of the gown. Looking back up into the mirror, she placed her hands on hourglass curve between her waist and her hips. Numerous layers of lace and satin rustled from beneath the full skirt as she swiveled from side to side appraising the look of the ballgown from several angles. As restrictive and cumbersome as it was, Vash had to admit that the gown was also extremely flattering and very opulent. The luxurious satin and elegant chantilly lace were fit for a queen. The sapphire-blue of the gown was just the right shade to bring out the color of her eyes. Vash took a deep breath and pulled at the corset to try to adjust it. As she did, she noticed the almost indecent amount of her cleavage that seemed to be spilling over the neckline of the gown. Using an age-old trick, she leaned forward slightly and pulled up on the bodice to let gravity help her fall back into the gown. And just in case he was listening in, Vash decided to lodge her complaint, "A corset, Q! I see no reason to have my waistline cinched in until I can't breathe and my bustline pushed up to my eyebrows!" Deciding that her battle with the corset was a hopeless one, Vash gave a small sigh of resignation and made her way over to one of the long, thin windows. Looking out, she could tell she was in one of three towers on the top of a gothic castle. The castle was high on a wooded hill overlooking a small village in the valley below. Vash thought it was a pretty safe assumption that Q wouldn't settle for tormenting just her and Jean-Luc when he could torment the whole gang. She figured Will and the rest of their friends were probably in the village. She decided to head for the village. The only question was whether or not Jean-Luc was with them? 'This time,' she thought to herself, 'Maid Marion is not sitting on her hands in the tower. She will head to Sherwood herself. Even if my Robin Hood isn't there at least I'll have some help.' It looked like about five kilometers through the woods to the village. A literal 'walk in the park' for someone trained in field archaeology. Although, ballgowns do not make for good field gear. The walk would be a lot easier if Q just happened to leave a decent hiking outfit in the room's large armoire. 'Oh Vash, if you're going to dream,' she told herself, 'why not ask for a transporter?' A noise that sounded remarkably like a couple of large wolves howling came from deep in the woods. Vash backed away from the window slightly, "Q if you're taking requests, a starfleet-issue phaser rifle, one of the really big ones that can drop a Nausicaan in one shot, would be kind of nice about now." "Oh well, I didn't think so," Vash lamented as she headed over to the armoire to see if Q had left her anything even remotely useful. ................................. Stepping onto the bridge after his dinner break, Commander William T. Riker was having a really good day. He smiled as he surveyed the bridge; everyone was at their usual stations, Geordi at the bridge's engineering station, Worf at tactical, Data at ops, Robin Lefler at conn, and Deanna and Beverly were standing next to the command chair talking quietly. Riker made his way over to the command chair, "Status, Data?" "Nothing of importance to report, sir," Data replied swiveling in his chair to face Riker. "The hydroponics lab did report a malfunctioning sprinkler. However, Lieutenant Barclay has already effected repairs." "Very good. I could use a nice, quiet evening." Riker settled back into the center seat. Turning to Deanna and Beverly, he asked, "So, what are the two of you conferring about so intently?" Both women wore slightly guilty expressions and Beverly glanced up at the ceiling. Deanna shrugged as she admitted, "We were just wondering what the captain got Vash for her birthday." From his station, Geordi chuckled, "Something tells me you ladies will find out first thing tomorrow." "Indubitably," Riker added. Without warning, the bridge was filled with a brilliant flash of light. When the light subsided, Riker found himself, Data, Worf, and Geordi sitting around a table in a very provincial-looking tavern. Riker didn't have the captain's extensive background in history, but he would place the rustic tavern in Europe, somewhere between Earth's seventeenth and nineteenth centuries. All four men were dressed as rogues from the same time period. Beverly and Deanna were each sitting on an arm of Riker's chair and Robin Lefler was seated on the arm of Data's chair. All three women were dressed as barmaids, wearing pink and white gingham dresses complete with crinolines, tightly-cinched corsets, and plunging scoop necklines. As he closed his eyes, Riker let his head fall against the back of his chair with a slight thud, "So much for my nice, quiet evening." "Sir," Data spoke up. "That flash was indicative of the Q Continuum. It is reasonable to assume that Q is responsible for our current environment." "Thank you, Commander," Riker opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Data, "for that update from the Department of the Obvious. The question is what is Q up to?" "It's a good bet that it's something designed to really annoy the captain," Geordi guessed. "Vash," Worf huffed. Noticing that Riker had turned toward him, he leaned forward in his chair, "Q has no honor. He will make the battle personal." "But why assume it will have something to do with Councilmember Vash?" Lefler asked. "Because she is Captain Picard's mate," Worf replied pointedly. "And I'm sure she would be so flattered to hear it put just that way," Beverly chuckled. Her smile faded as she admitted, "But, I think Worf's right. Chances are Q's got Vash." "Sir, Q has shown a singular interest in Vash," Data added. "Agreed," Riker nodded and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All right, we will assume that both the captain and Vash are involved. Now, the question is where are they?" "A better question to start with would be 'where are we'?" Robin interrupted. Riker looked around the tavern, spotting the innkeeper behind the bar, he yelled, "Innkeeper, my good man, more ale here." Instantly the innkeeper was standing next to Riker's chair with a pitcher of ale, pouring some into a glass. "And would you like some information to go with that ale, good sir?" Startled at the familiar voice directly above her perch on Will's chair, Deanna lost her balance and fell into Riker's lap. Looking up, she realized that the familiar voice belonged to none other than Q. "Tut, tut, tut, Billy boy, wenching already? And with another man's wench to boot," looking over at Worf he amended, "well, another male's wench, anyway." "Q," Riker huffed as he helped Deanna to her feet. "You and your captain have an amazing talent for turning my name into a profanity," Q commented dryly. "Where is he?" Riker jumped in quickly. "I thought you wanted to know where you were?" Q baited. "Okay fine, where are we in relationship to him?" Riker ground out between clenched teeth. The entity looked nonchalantly around the room "Oh, I'm sure he's prowling around somewhere nearby?" "Where is he?" an already-frustrated Riker sighed impatiently. Ignoring Riker's question, Q leaned cozily against Data scootching Lieutenant Lefler into Data's lap, "Have you heard the local tales about the castle on the hill? It seems it is occupied by a fearsome beast." Giving a sidelong glance at Worf, Q added, "I don't mean you, Klingon." Worf growled deep in his throat. Q ignored him and continued on with his story, "Coincidentally, another stranger had appeared in the area recently and is at this moment becoming quite familiar with one of the tower rooms. She is a lovely, dark-haired maiden with eyes of the brightest blue." Jumping on the description, Riker eyes narrowed, "Q, are you saying that Vash is in the castle?" Q rolled his eyes in mock frustration, "Is the turbolift stuck between decks again, Commander? Come on, work with me, Billy. Work with me." Q had quickly found Riker's last nerve, "All right, how do we get to her?" "If you go due east through the woods you will find a winding road that leads up the hill to the castle." Q gave Riker a challenging look and gloated, "The real test will be getting to her before the beast does." In a bright flash, Q vanished. "Terrific," Riker grumbled to himself. "That does answer the question of Vash's whereabouts," Data noted, "However, we still do not know the captain's location." "We must find him," Worf deep baritone rumbled. "No, Vash is our first priority," Riker stated firmly. "First, she is a civilian and her safety is our responsibility. Second, Do you really want to face the captain if we haven't secured her safety yet?" "I see your point," Worf conceded, not relishing the idea of facing Picard without Vash safely in hand. "Okay, we're going to need provisions," Riker began as he looked around the table. He spotted Lefler still sitting in Data's lap, "Lieutenant?" "Sir?" the pretty brunette met his gaze. "Is there any particular reason why you are still sitting in Commander Data's lap?" Riker asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, sir," Lefler answered without the slightest flinch or hesitation. "I reasoned that it would behoove me to stay put while 'the big boys' were engaged in a spittin' contest." "Not that Commander Data minds, sir," Data interjected lightly. Behind him, Riker heard Crusher and Troi both trying to stiffle a giggle. Ignoring Data's comment, he found he really couldn't argue with the young woman's logic. "That was probably a wise choice. However, the spittin' contest, as you put it, is now over. I think you can get up." "Yes, sir," Lefler replied. "Oh thank you, sir," Data quipped as he helped her to her feet. "I want to get underway within a half hour. Everyone gather what supplies you can," Riker ordered, again ignoring Data's sarcasm. Then he noticed that only he, Worf, Geordi, and Data had swords. Gesturing to the women, he added, "The three of you need to procure something that can be used as a weapon." Twenty minutes later, they all stood outside the tavern going over the supplies and weapons they had managed to scrape together. The wind was starting to pick up and it was getting colder. All three women pulled brown, woolen cloaks tightly around themselves as Beverly grumbled, "With that stiff wind it feels like late fall in New England." "It also looks like a storm might be brewing and I'd like to get to the castle and find Vash before it hits," Riker added in agreement. As he swung a crossbow over his shoulder, Riker looked down at a matching set of daggers Troi was holding. Unable to help himself, he quipped, "Nice pair." "Glad you approve, Commander," Troi bantered back with a straight face. "Mine aren't as big as hers," Crusher lamented as sheathed her own set of daggers. "Nobody's are as big as hers," Lefler offered in consolation. "I think we should get underway," Worf said as he and Riker exchanged a pained look. "Quickly," Riker agreed. Heading toward the woods, he ordered, "Let's move out." .......................................... Carefully keeping himself hidden in the shadows of the hallway, Picard watched Vash through the open door of the bedchamber. Hearing her wish aloud for a phaser rifle, Picard smiled to himself at the slight overkill. A type-2 hand phaser would be more suitable for her purpose and she handled a hand phaser much better. Having taken her target shooting on the ship's firing range a number of times, he knew that she found the size of a phaser rifle a little unwieldy. Her skill with a hand phaser was a very different story. She was good, real good. Vash had spent years traveling alone through the galaxy as a field archaeologist. Picard had a sneaking suspicion that she had, during that time, carried a phaser of some sort for her own personal protection. Knowing the galaxy as he did, he secretly hoped she had. He just didn't ask. He checked the large broadsword and stiletto-styled dagger he had found. Not as good as a phaser, but they were the best defense available to them at the moment. He planned to give Vash the dagger, while he kept the much heavier broadsword. Unsheathing the dagger, he looked down at the gemstone-studded hilt. The sight of the weapon in his large, paw-like hand reminded him of his current physical form. Picard still had no idea how he was going to communicate his identity to Vash. However, his immediate concern was how to get the dagger to her without terrifying her. Picard brought his gaze back up to Vash. She was rummaging through the room's large armoire, tossing articles of silk, satin, and lace into a pile behind her. Obviously uncomfortable, she would pause briefly to stand up straight with her hands on her hips and take a couple of deep breaths before continuing. Picard knew he could span her entire waistline with his hands normally, she certainly did not need that awful corset. Standing in the shadows, he was struck by how delicately feminine she seemed. The hourglass lines of the ballgown combined with her tiny frame gave her the appearance of an exquisite porcelain doll. 'A porcelain doll,' Picard reminded himself with a wry smile, 'that once took me with my own sword.' Suddenly, Vash pulled out a cloak, the heavy brocade material was the same sapphire blue as her dress and the hood was trimmed in snow white marabou. As Vash examined the garment and walked over to the mirror, Picard could hear her mutter to herself, "This is gorgeous, but totally impractical. Of course, it's the only thing in here heavy enough to keep me warm so I guess it will have to do." Vash stood in front of the mirror, pulling on the cloak. She stopped and just stared at her reflection. Reaching up, she grasped something hanging from a chain around her neck. Picard realized it was his academy ring. Clutching the ring, she whispered, "I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need, by sun and candlelight." Picard's throat tightened with emotion as he heard Vash quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning. He watched as she let go of the ring to adjust the cloak more securely around her. She turned from the mirror and headed toward the door. Picard pulled back deeper into the shadows as Vash entered the hallway. END PART 2 ............................ -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Awards Tech Support http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/ No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek .creative or directly to the author. Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! 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