Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 16 Apr 2004 16:04:05 -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 3/4 
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 2

 Vash stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.  Shadowy alcoves dotted
the entire length of the corridor; the only light was provided by
candles mounted in elaborate, brass sconces along the wall.  She could
see intricate tapestries and full-sized suits-of-armor adorning some
of the alcoves.  Vash started toward an immense staircase that she
hoped would lead down to the main floor of the castle.  She froze as
she sensed, more than heard, someone behind her.  Slowly, she turned
around to look back.  Peering into the darkness, she strained to hear
anything other than her own heart pounding and the rustling of her
satin skirt. "Q?"

 Vash paused, waiting for a response.  Hesitantly, she called out, "Is
anyone there?"

 Again there was no response.  Vash took a deep breath, trying to calm
her nerves.
She was alone, dressed in very restrictive clothing, in a dark,
unfamiliar corridor, and completely unarmed.  She was sure that this
was exactly the type of situation Jean-Luc was referring to when he
would ask her to 'try and stay out of trouble.'  With a sigh, Vash
turned back around to head for the stairs again.  There was an audible
thump behind her.  The long cloak and the ballgown's many layers of
satin and lace swirled around her as Vash did an about-face to look
behind her, declaring to the darkness around her, "Okay, now I know I
heard that."

 She noticed a glint of light reflecting off something on the floor. 
Making her way over to one of the suits-of-armor, she stooped to get a
closer look.  Finding a stiletto-styled dagger in it's sheath on the
floor, she picked it up to examine it.  It was a beautiful weapon with
an elaborate hilt studded with gemstones.  She reasoned that it must
have just fallen off of the suit-of-armor.  A relieved, impish smile
lit up her face as she regarded the armor in front of her.

 "Pssst, hey bud, you drop this?"  Vash inquired as she tapped the
hollow chest of the suit-of-armor with the hilt of the dagger.  Her
voice turned teasingly conspiratorial as she confided, "It doesn't
look to me like you'll be needing it anytime soon and I could really
use it.  Would you mind if I kind of borrowed it for awhile?  Thanks."

 Vash gasped in terror at the reflection in the shiny metal of a
fierce beast standing behind her.  The suit-of-armor's breastplate
distorted the image, but whatever it was, it was definitely large and
leonine.  Holding the dagger at the ready, Vash whirled around to face
it.  There was nothing there.  Vash slowly backed away toward the
stairs.  Her eyes never left the spot where the beast had been and her
voice faltered slightly, "Look, I don't know who or what you are, but
I'll just be leaving now."

 Reaching the stairs, Vash carefully resheathed the dagger and quickly
headed down the staircase.

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

 Hearing Vash's horrified gasp, Picard quickly pulled back to hide in
the shadows.  Desperately wanting to reach out to her, all he had
managed to do was frighten her.  To be so close, yet so removed from
her was heart-wrenching.  As he watched her slowly back down the
hallway, he tried in vain to think of a way to communicate his
identity to her.  'Although it wasn't my most brilliant plan, I did
manage to get the dagger to her,' he thought to himself in
consolation.

 Picard cautiously moved forward, cloaking himself in the shadows.  He
didn't want to risk her seeing him again.  The last thing he wanted to
do was frighten her further.  At the same time, he didn't want to lose
sight of her.  He was worried that, even with the dagger, she wouldn't
be able to properly defend herself.  The extravagant ballgown and
cloak she was wearing would certainly restrict her movements,
hindering any self-defense.

 From the top of the staircase, Picard watched Vash bound down the
stairs, the skirt of her gown billowing around her with every step. 
He held his breath, afraid that the elaborate costume she was wearing
would cause her to miss a step and fall.  Reaching the large landing
midway down the staircase, Vash suddenly stopped.  Moving silently, he
tried to get a better view of what had caught her attention.  A French
tapestry seemingly from around the seventeenth century, depicting a
scene from the life of Alexander the Great, was hanging on the wall. 
It was reminiscent of one Picard had seen hanging in the library of
the Biltmore Estate in North Carolina.  As he watched Vash make her
way over to get a closer look at the tapestry, he smiled to himself. 
Vash inspected it closely, running her fingers over the image.  He
knew she was checking the colors, weave, and texture of the material
looking for clues to it's authenticity.  Here she was in a gothic
castle, fleeing from what she believed to be a fierce beast, and she
was stopping to study an artifact.  Picard shook his head with loving
exasperation. You could take the archaeologist out of the
treasure-hunt, but you couldn't take the treasure-hunter out of the
archaeologist.  With a quick glance back up the staircase, Vash pulled
away from the tapestry and continued on down the stairs.

 Clinging to the concealment provided by the shadows, Picard
stealthily followed Vash down the stairs and through the castle.  The
tapestry was only the first in a long line of artifacts she paused to
scrutinize as she made her way toward the large entrance hall and the
front gate of the castle.  Once inside the entrance hall, Vash stopped
to study the large bronze statue of Perseus holding Medusa's head that
seemed to be standing guard inside the front gate.  She was so
engrossed in her examination of the statue, she failed to notice the
large terra-cotta gargoyle perched on the archway over her head. 
However, Picard noticed the gargoyle and the fact that it's mounting
was giving way.  In that terrifying moment he forgot everything, where
they were, Vash's past reaction to his current appearance, Q's game,
everything.  As he moved out of the shadows toward her, nothing
mattered to Picard but making sure Vash was out of harm's way.

 "Vash!"  Picard tried to shout in warning, but it came out as a
leonine roar.  Vash spun to face him, jumping back slightly.  The
gargoyle came down just in front of her, crashing onto the floor
between them.

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

 The sound of the roar made the hair on the back of Vash's neck stand
on end as she jumped back and turned to face whatever it was.  A
slight involuntary flinch was her only reaction to the heavy gargoyle
falling to shatter at her feet.  With her blue eyes as wide as
saucers, she froze in place staring at the creature in front of her,
completely transfixed.  The ferocious-looking beast appeared to be
part-human and part-feline, actually lion if you wanted to be specific
about the feline thing.  The odd part was that the beast was wearing
formal evening clothes from around the nineteenth century and armed
with a broadsword.

 After a long moment, Vash finally shook herself back to reality and
fled through the front gate, slamming it behind her.  As she ran
toward the woods, a stray thought crossed her terrified mind, 'He was
wearing an evening outfit.  The lion was wearing a tuxedo!  Either Q
is really trying to mess with me or Jean-Luc needs to talk to someone
at the Picard Vineyards about that vintage of champagne.'

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

 As the front gate slammed closed behind Vash, Picard's eyes remained
focused on the spot where she had just been standing.  Slowly, his
gaze shifted to fix on the demolished gargoyle on the floor.  Stepping
over to the shattered remains of the gargoyle, he crouched down to
pick up one of the shards and inspect it.

 Under his breath, Picard growled, "Damn it, Q!  It would have killed
her!"

 "Nonsense, mon capitaine.  It would have missed her by a good two
inches."

 Picard looked up to see Q leaning casually against the bronze statue
of Perseus that had attracted Vash's attention.  Picard stood up
straight to face the entity.  He angrily threw the shard to the ground
and hissed, "She was almost directly under it when . . ."

 "When the good captain panicked," Q taunted, cutting him off.  "You
panicked, just like at Nottingham castle.  You panic whenever the
lovely, lady archaeologist is involved.  For years, I threw every
curve at you I could think of trying to get you to act rashly.  Who
would have guessed that the only curves I needed belonged to a shapely
brunette with blue eyes?"

 With that, Q vanished.  Picard took a deep breath, working to
unclench his jaw.  There was no point in denying the truth in what Q
had said.  Passionately in love with Vash, Picard knew he had become
extremely protective of her.  He was very aware of the vulnerabilities
his relationship with her provided for an enemy to exploit.  Vash was
also aware of the dangers involved, doing what work she could in her
lab and agreeing to very tight security measures whenever she was
actually doing any field work.  To complicate matters, their
relationship had very quickly become public knowledge.  The Federation
News Network's cameras managed to find them the third time they had
appeared in public together, at Starfleet Academy's Commencement
Ceremonies.  The FNN had a field day reporting how the legendary and
very proper Flagship captain had attended the festivities with a sexy,
young lady on his arm.

 However, Q didn't understand that Picard's relationship with Vash had
also become a source of great strength.  An accomplished scientist in
her own right, Vash was a confident woman with a keen intellect and a
razor wit.  On more than one occasion, she had given Picard creative
and insightful ideas on how to approach a problem.  With her vivacious
personality, she had quickly become his, as she called it, friendly,
approachable face of command in social situations.  Vash always made
sure Picard remembered to acknowledge marriages, birthdays,
anniversaries and other social details.  She managed to charm even the
most disagreeable of diplomats and handled the media attention, ever
present at state functions, with great aplomb.  As Picard made his way
out the front gate to follow Vash, he realized she had become, in all
but name, the perfect captain's wife.

 Standing in front of the castle, Picard peered down the road that
wound into the woods.  Thanks to many years of military commando
training, it was going to be fairly easy for him to track Vash while
keeping himself out of sight.  'At least lions are stealth creatures.'
he thought ruefully as he trekked into the thick brushwood.  Using one
of his paw-like hands to push aside a patch of briars, he decided one
benefit to his current form was that he didn't need a machete to get
through the underbrush.  It wasn't long before he caught sight of Vash
walking along the road.  Hiding himself deep in the greenwood, he kept
his course parallel to hers.

 Picard became aware that something else was following Vash.  She must
have also realized it.  Unsheathing the dagger and holding it ready
along her arm, she turned around to peer back down the road toward the
castle.  Three, very large, wolf-like creatures prowled out of the
woods onto the road a short distance in front of Vash.  Snarling and
baring their fangs, they slowly advanced toward her.  Keeping her eyes
on the animals without seeming to challenge them, Vash slowly backed
off.  As he silently unsheathed his own sword, Picard mentally coached
her, 'Keep calm.  That's my girl, move nice and slow.  A canine will
sense fear and use the panic to strike.'

 The lead animal attacked without warning, lunging at Vash.  Bringing
up her weapon, she imbedded the dagger in the animal's throat while it
was in mid-air.  Her elbow deflected the animal off to one side.  It
fell to the ground dead, her dagger still in its throat.  However, the
impact of the attack threw Vash back into a nearby tree knocking the
wind out of her.  Gasping for air, she collapsed to the ground.  Even
as Vash was fending off the first wolf, Picard struck, his broadsword
flashing in the receding moonlight.  His first slash caught the next
creature in its middle with a dull thud, nearly cutting it in two.  As
Picard pulled the sword from the body of the second creature, he was
struck by the third at full speed.  He barely avoided the attacking
fangs by a hairsbreath.  His sword forgotten, he reverted to instinct.
 With a roar bordering on a scream that echoed throughout the forest,
he attacked.  His paws wrapped around the snarling beast, claws
extended several inches.  The creature fangs snapped at his face as he
began methodically shredding its back with his claws.  He desperately
tried to get at least one paw at the creature's throat.  They rolled
along the ground in the death struggle, their roars becoming more
desperate - becoming shrieks.  Picard rolled the wolf onto its back
and pinned it against a fallen log with the weight of his body.  His
paws were caught under the wolf's back.  If he let up on the creature
to free his arms, it would strike.  The wolf frantically snapped at
Picard, but was able to only move its head.  Picard felt the wolf
begin to work itself free.  With his arms pinned, he would be at a
fatal disadvantage if the creature gained any leverage at all. 
Putting aside any human inhibitions, he let out a blood-curdling howl,
his razor sharp fangs almost glowing in the darkness.  With a
lightning quick movement he snapped his leonine head down and sank his
fangs into the throat of the creature.  A gout of blood erupted from
the creature, but its death scream was cut short as Picard's teeth
sliced through.  The wolf struggled for several seconds, then was
still.  Picard slowly pulled his arms from under the creature's body
and rose, his face and mouth completely covered in blood.  It took
several seconds for the exhilaration of the hunt to subside.  His
first thoughts were of Vash.  He needed to make sure she had not been
seriously injured during her struggle with the first wolf.  A quick
glance at the throat of the final wolf alerted him to how very
dreadful he probably appeared just now.  For Vash's sake, Picard took
a brief moment to clean up from the battle before turning around to
check on her.

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

 Vash hit the tree hard and fell to the ground.  Slumped over and
gasping to breathe, she fought to keep from passing out.  Catching her
breath after such an impact would have been hard enough, the vice-like
corset was making it nearly impossible.  She could hear one of the
wolves fighting fiercely with something else nearby.  Struggling to a
sitting position, Vash leaned heavily against the tree to prop herself
up.  Blood from the wolf she had fended off was splattered across one
of her cheeks and her cloak.  Opening her eyes, she saw two of the
wolves were dead and the third was locked in a fight to the death with
the leonine beast from the castle.  Hearing the beast's howl, Vash
averted her eyes just as the beast's mane descended onto the neck of
the wolf.  Vash figured the wolf never had much of a chance, cats had
always been one of nature's most effective killing machines.

 When she looked back up the melee was over and the beast was moving
toward her.  His movements seemed subdued, almost meek.  It was
nothing like a fierce predator stalking its prey.  At least, Vash
hoped it wasn't.  At the moment, her dagger was a good distance away. 
Any movement she made, even to take a deep breath, was painful. 
Warily, she regarded the beast as he went to the stream that ran just
to the side of the path.  He wet the corner of his overcoat in the
clean water.  Moving back to her side, the beast knelt down and began
to gently wipe the blood from her face with the wet material.  For the
first time, Vash looked up into its face, her eyes locking with it. 
Instantly, she recognized those piercing, steel-grey eyes now filled
with loving concern.  Suddenly, a number of things started to make
sense.  Vash brought her hand up to tenderly stroke his cheek, her
fingers entangling themselves in the thick mane.  Softly, she
whispered, "Jean-Luc."

 Reaching up to hold her hand against his face with one of his own,
Picard nodded.  He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed hard.  There
were so many things he wanted to say to her.  Opening his eyes, he
picked the one of the utmost importance at the moment.  "Are you
hurt?"

 The voice was distorted by a slight feline rumble, but it was
definitely Jean-Luc's.  With a small smile, Vash reassured him, "I
don't think so.  Although, I am a little sore."

 "Just a little, huh," he quipped, seeing her wince as she shifted her
position slightly.

 "How about you?" Vash asked, carefully looking him over. "Did either
of those over-grown poodles get in a lucky strike?"

 "Just a few scratches here and there, nothing too serious," Picard
replied as he cleaned the last of the blood and dirt from her cheek. 
"I'm more concerned about the fall you took.  You handled the dagger
very well, but that animal was easily fifty pounds heavier than you. 
Sorry I couldn't get you the phaser you asked for."

 "The phaser I asked for?" Vash questioned, slightly baffled.  Then
she remembered asking for the phaser while standing in front of the
castle window.  She gazed up at him affectionately, "Have you been
watching over me this whole time?"

 Somewhat sheepishly, Picard nodded, "I wanted to be nearby in case
you needed my help."

 "Always playing the knight-in-shining-armor riding to the rescue of
the damsel-in-distress," Vash chuckled, "Why didn't you just say
something?"

 "Q seems to be in a bit of a jealous snit over us.  He set up this
ridiculous farce so I couldn't speak to you until you recognized me in
this form," Picard huffed, sounding disgusted.  His features and tone
softened as he teased her, "And you certainly took your own sweet
time."

 "I'm so sorry, darling.  It was all this hair that threw me," Vash
cooed in retaliation as she ran her fingers through his mane.  The way
Picard rolled his eyes in pained exasperation made her giggle. 
Wincing with the sudden movement, Vash gasped, "Oh, ouch."

 "Are you sure you're not hurt?" Picard's anxiety was plainly visible
in his eyes.

 "Really Jean-Luc, I'm just a little sore," she insisted.  "However,
when I'm sitting down this confounded corset feels like a tourniquet. 
Would you help me up, please?"

 "Of course, petite amie," Picard gingerly helped her to her feet. 
For a long moment, he watched her as she stood there leaning back
against the tree.  Somewhat abruptly, he instructed her, "open up your
cloak."

 "Whatever for?  It's cold out here," Vash exclaimed in surprise. 

 Picard sighed.  Of course, this was the one person onboard who didn't
follow his orders.  With the forced patience of someone talking to a
small child, he explained, "I want to make sure you didn't crack any
ribs."

 "You're just going to have Beverly check again anyway," Vash huffed
in complaint.

 "Of that there is no doubt," Picard retorted.  "In the interim, humor
me."

 "You win," Vash sighed, lowering the cloak's hood.  She began to undo
the clasp that held the long garment shut.  The cloak had protected
her hair and the elaborate gown from the effects of the fight with the
wolves.

 When Vash opened the cloak, Picard's breath caught in his throat. 
Vash stood there with her soft, ivory skin bathed in moonlight.  The
provocatively-styled gown emphasized the perfect curves of her
feminine silhouette.  Spanning her tiny waist, he ran his hands up and
down her delicate frame as carefully as possible.  As he checked her
ribcage, he fought to ignore the tantalizing way her chest rose and
fell with each breath.  With his hands still on her waist, he
straightened up, "I don't think anything is broken, but I'll want
Beverly to take a good look at you."

 "You like it," Vash glared at him accusingly. 

 "Pardon me?" Picard asked totally confused. His relationship with
Vash had taught him never to underestimate the female's ability to
lose the male during any given conversation.

 "The dress, Jean-Luc," she complained. "You like the dress." 

 Picard had been in Starfleet long enough by now to know a 'No win
scenario' when he saw it.  Trying to sidestep the issue, he said
simply,  "I'm sure it's very uncomfortable."

 "But you like the way it looks," Vash challenged.  She wasn't letting
him off the hook that easily.  "Don't you?"

 "I would never expect or even ask you to wear something so
constricting and uncomfortable.  However, since I did not choose your
current attire . . . "  Picard trailed off as he openly admired the
vision of feminine perfection in front of him.  His appreciative gaze
traveled back up to find Vash's eyebrow cocked in expectation. "The
fact that I'm standing here in the form of an enormous lion doesn't
phase you in the least.  Does it?"

 "Jean-Luc, if  you are anywhere near a point, please make it." 

 "Despite my current appearance, I am a red-blooded human male.  So
yes, I like the way you look in this dress.  Actually, I more than
like the way you look in this dress," Picard asserted, matching her
challenge with his own.  His hands still resting gently on her waist,
he closed the small distance between them.  Staring directly down into
her vividly blue eyes, he added, "And I have never seen my academy
ring look better."

 With vanity quickly overtaking her feeling of righteous indignation,
Vash glanced down at the ring nestled in her décolletage. 
Flirtatiously, she looked up at him through her lashes and cooed, "It
does look rather becoming there."

 "It belongs there," he told her as he tenderly cradled her in his
arms.  As Vash snuggled into him, he whispered into her hair, "Je
t`aime."

 "Je t`aime," Vash murmured contentedly, resting her head against his
chest.  For a long moment, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm
security of his embrace.  A small smile played at her lips.  Quite
unable to help herself, she added, "You're purring, Johnny."

 Picard sighed, knowing as long as this little charade went on there
would be no end to the virtual plethora of cat jokes.  Pulling back
slightly, he arched an eyebrow and informed her, "Vash, lions don't
purr.

 "Vash!" Riker's shouted warning echoed through the woods as Data
rushed at the leonine beast pulling it away from her.  Riker slung his
crossbow to over his shoulder as he ran toward Vash.  Moving quickly,
he swept the archaeologist into his arms, placing her between the tree
and his large frame to shield her.

 "No, Data, Don't !" Vash cried, struggling against Riker's protective
embrace.    She strained to peer around the tall first officer.  "The
beast is Jean-Luc! "

 "It's the Captain?" Riker sounded slightly puzzled.  Vash nodded and
leaned against him, letting herself relax in his arms.

 Data had the beast pinned to the ground.  Hearing Vash, he quickly
verified the retinal patterns and uttered, "Ooops."

 "Ooops indeed, Commander," Picard deadpanned looking up at his second
officer.

 "My sincere apologies, Captain," Data offered as he helped Picard to
his feet.

 "It's all right, Data," Picard said, briefly rubbing his own elbow.
"Thanks to Q, I'm out of uniform."

 "Considerably, sir," Data replied. 

 "Sorry, sir," Riker looked over at Picard and explained, "We thought
Vash was being attacked."

 "And you acted accordingly.  No need to apologize, Number one,"
Picard told his first officer.  He was amused by the way Vash was now
casually leaning against Will, like he was a piece of furniture.  "You
didn't realize it was me."

 "Because I'm such an idiot!" Robin Lefler exclaimed as she and the
rest of the crew approached.

 "Since I don't normally allow idiots to pilot my ship," Picard
regarded the young lieutenant, "would you like clarify that last
statement?"

 "It was so obvious.  When Q eluded to the idea that Councilmember
Vash was in a castle with a beast, I should have realized it was you,
sir," Robin huffed, disgusted with herself.  "*Beauty and the Beast*
is one of my favorite stories."

 "Lieutenant, I would never have pegged you as the fairy tale type,"
Riker teased.

 "Most women are to some extent," Beverly noted, coming to Lefler's
defense.  She gestured to the three wolves.  "There was obviously a
battle of some kind.  Were either of you hurt?"

 "I'm fine, doctor," Picard replied.  "However, one of those wolves
threw Vash against that tree pretty hard, knocking the wind out of
her.  I couldn't find any evidence of an injury but I would like you
to take a look."

 Still leaning against Riker, Vash rolled her eyes, let her head fall
back against his chest and lamented,  "You can be such a mother hen,
Jean-Luc."

 Immediately concerned, Riker peered anxiously down at Vash, "You're
hurt?"

 "Relax, Sir Lancelot," Vash patted his arm.  "I'm fine, just a little
sore that's all."

 "Do you mind if I make that decision?" Beverly Crusher quipped,
making her way over to them.  Riker stepped aside to allow the doctor
room to check Vash for any injuries.

 "There are no cracked ribs, but there maybe some bruising," Beverly
informed her.

 "See, I told you I was fine," Vash shot Picard a triumphant look as
she closed her cloak.

 "Vash, you took a pretty hard blow," Beverly cautioned, "I want you
to take it easy."

 "And, she will take it easy," Picard assured both women, giving Vash
his own 'I told you so' look.  Noticing that the wind had picked up
again, he added,   "Number One, since we have no idea when Q will
choose to grace us with his presence, I think it would behoove us to
head back to the castle and move this little reunion inside."

 "Agreed, sir," Riker adjusted his crossbow to a more comfortable
position.

 "We should also retrieve all weapons, including the stiletto from the
neck of that wolf," Picard said as he picked up his broad sword and
placed it back into his scabbard.

 "Aye, sir," Worf walked past Troi over to the wolf. 

 As Deanna watched Worf pull the knife out of the dead animal, she
grimaced with distaste, "I could have done that."

 "You could have," the Klingon admitted. Standing up to face her, he
added knowingly, "However, I would've never heard the end of it."

 Making his way over to Vash, Picard gestured to her, "Well, come on."

 Vash blinked at him confused. 

 "I'm going to carry you," he told her, although he thought his intent
had been fairly obvious.

 "All the way back to the castle?" she sputtered, glancing back the
way they had come.

 "No, I thought I'd carry you halfway back and then drop you in the
middle of the road," Picard retorted dryly.  He was vaguely aware of
Lieutenant Lefler choking down a giggle.  "Of course all the way back
to the castle."

 "Across a room is one thing, Jean-Luc, but I'm much too heavy for you
to carry that distance," she insisted.

 "Ouch, Vash.  That was a verbal trap that no man could hope to escape
from," La Forge interjected good-naturedly.

 "She excels at them, Geordi," Picard informed his chief engineer as
he gazed expectantly at Vash. "Although, I refuse to even dignify that
last one with a response."

 "My point is that I'm quite capable of walking back to the castle,"
she huffed.

 "I'm sure you are."  Picard took a step toward her, again rubbing his
elbow. "However, Beverly thinks you should take it easy and . . ."

 "Hold it right there, Captain," Beverly placed her hand on his
shoulder.  "What's wrong with your arm?"

 "Nothing, why?" Picard said quickly as he glanced over the doctor. 

 "You've been favoring it, Jean-Luc," Beverly informed him. "And that
is the second time I've seen you massaging it."

 "It's just a little stiff from wrestling with that wolf," Picard
explained.

 "But you were planning to carry Vash back to the castle?" Beverly
chastised him.

 "Busted," Vash teased before gently adding, "Jean-Luc, is your arm
all right?"

 He addressed both women, "My arm being a little stiff is the least of
 my concerns.  In case it has escaped your attention, Ladies, I am
standing here in the form of a giant lion!"

 "Well," Beverly quipped with a wicked smile. "I guess the cat is out
of the bag now!"

 "Doctor, please," Picard said reproachfully. 

 "Roar all you want, Jean-Luc," Vash told him, giggling at Beverly's
joke. "Once Q has had his fun, he'll change you back."

 "Otherwise, it would be a real cat-astrophe," Deanna joined in. 

 Picard glanced over at his usually soft-spoken ship's counselor and
groaned, "Oh, not you too."

 "Bottom line; I'm walking back to the castle," Vash stated as she
stepped past him toward the road.

 Picard watched as Vash gingerly stepped over a fallen log, sucking in
her breath and holding her side.  Picard turned to see Riker also
watching her.  Catching Will's eye, Picard met his gaze pointedly. 
Riker tilted his head ever so noticeably toward Vash.  With a slight
nod, Picard wordlessly reached out for the crossbow Riker was already
handing to him.

 Vash gasped in surprise as the tall first officer effortlessly swept
her up into his muscular arms.  Instinctively, her arms encircled his
neck as he carried her. "I suppose arguing now would be pointless."

 "Yes, it would," Riker chuckled as he started up the road toward the
castle with the rest of the group following them.  "And unless you
really want to be carried in a less dignified manner, I would behave
myself."

 "Oh you big brute," Vash retorted playfully. "And why do you always
have to side with him?"

 "It just happens to be a minor point in his job description, petite
amie," Picard called victoriously from behind them.

 As they went passed, Vash noticed Riker staring at the body of the
third wolf still laying across the log where Jean-Luc had killed it. 
Riker turned to look down at her questioningly.  Letting her head fall
to rest on his broad shoulder, she whispered, "Will, do yourself and
everyone else a favor, just don't ask."

 With a nod, he softly whispered back, "Understood, sweetheart." 

END PART 3

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Awards Tech Support

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

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