Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 21 Apr 2004 16:15:03 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com (whoa nellie) Title: Goose and Gander Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com) Series: TNG Repost: 2/7 Rating: NC-17 Codes: P/Vash Summary: With a little more than a month left until Picard and Vash's Author's Note: Feel free to archive to any pertinent site. In preparation to play in our Double Entendre universe in the coming year, we're reposting the stories from that universe as a refresher (or introduction to those who haven't read our earlier work). These stories have been polished up a bit, but they are still are earliest pieces from when we began writing nearly a decade ago. Edited-down versions of most of our stories can be found through our author page at fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=85355 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 Fan Fiction website is at: 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 Picard had to admit that his first officer had outdone himself this time. The Zephyrus Club's large, private, party room had the appearance of a Gentlemen's club that could have been lifted from the pages of one of Picard's favorite Dixon Hill novels. The walls were covered in a dark wood paneling accented with deep burgundy drapes and carpeting. The heavy mahogany furniture was upholstered in rich leather. A very talented bartender stood behind the long, fully stocked bar that stretched the length of one entire wall. There was a table set up for poker and three old-style billiard/pool tables. The two main tables were set up in front of the stage at the opposite end of the room from the bar. As Picard mingled with the two dozen or so guests, he found he was really enjoying himself; with only a few exceptions, almost everyone there was a Starfleet officer. He was surprised that so many of them had managed to attend, considering the vast distances and busy schedules involved. He had spent most of the evening reminiscing with friends he hadn't seen in sometime. Picard smiled as he overheard Geordi La Forge joking to Gil Raleigh that there was probably enough brass in the room for an all-brass marching band. Gil had joked back that at least another full commander would be needed for that. In actuality, there wasn't a uniform to be seen in the room. Picard made his way over to Captain Chris Bradford and Captain Flint Hadley. Both were married men who had known Picard for many years. Picard's choice of outfit, a casual fitting, blue-grey silk shirt with a deep V neckline and tan trousers, became the topic of conversation. "She picked it out, didn't she?" Bradford asked knowingly. "I don't see where it matters, but yes, Vash suggested the outfit," Picard answered, bemused. Hadley smiled at Bradford, "I told you when he finally fell, it would be fast. The wedding is only a formality. He's a husband, all right." Bradford nodded and clapped Picard on the shoulder, "Welcome to our little group, Jean-Luc, the few, the proud, the henpecked." "Chris, I really don't think you could consider any man in here henpecked," Picard replied. "Oh no?" Bradford quipped, "See if this little scenario sounds at all familiar. I'm getting ready for a very early shift on the bridge where I'll be dealing with the Breen. As I reach in the closet for my red uniform jacket, my beloved, who I thought was asleep, says rather bluntly, 'Not that one, dear. You're dealing with the Breen here, wear the grey and black uniform with the crimson turtleneck. The dark colors will be much more intimidating.'" "I have to admit, it has a familiar ring to it." The look of recognition on Picard's face was undeniable as several similar situations went through his mind. "You both still get to try to pick out your uniforms? Gentlemen, I'm impressed," Hadley chimed in. "My wife has been laying out my uniform every morning for the past ten years. I'm convinced the woman knows my orders even before H.Q. does." "You're a grown man, Flint, you can't be serious," Picard chuckled. Flint smiled, "Tell me, Jean-Luc, when you hand the bridge over to Will, leaving him to complete some piece of ship's business, do you even give it a second thought?" "Of course not, Will has been my first officer for over a decade," Picard answered. "Well, my friend, now you have two first officers," Flint explained, "Will is your ship's first officer and Vash is your life's first officer. Trust me, it will become second nature to let her handle certain details." "And become the 'friendly, approachable, face of command in social situations,'" Picard quoted. "Very eloquently put," Bradford said, sounding impressed. "It was Vash's description," Picard admitted with a proud smile. "Sounds to me like the lady knows her job," Bradford noted. With a chuckle, he tilted his head toward the poker table. "Jean-Luc, look over at your second officer." Picard glanced in Data's direction. Dressed in a casual, light-brown sweater and matching trousers, Data sat at the poker table with a cigar hanging from his mouth and a vodka martini in front of him. He was shuffling a deck of cards with the flair of a Las Vegas blackjack dealer. The cigar came from one of the several boxes of replicated 'hand-rolled Havana's' placed on the two main tables. Also on the main tables were a couple of bottles of Romulan ale. Picard didn't know where they came from and he really didn't care to know. Of course, with ten admirals, six starship captains, and assorted commanders in attendance, who in their right mind would raid the place for a few bottles of contraband? Picard turned back to Bradford, "Chris, the only thing I know that surpasses the speed of Data's positronic brain is his enthusiasm. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." With that, Picard started to make his way toward the main tables. "Having a good time?" Will Riker asked as Picard finally reached the main tables. "Yes, Will, thank you," Picard answered as he took his seat between Riker and Gil Raleigh. Data, Geordi, and Worf all took seats on the other side of Riker. "Good," Riker grinned as he handed Picard a cigar, "Because it's about to get even better." "Will, you're incorrigible," Picard said between puffs as he lit his cigar. "So's your bride," chuckled Professor Clarktown of the Archaeology Council, one of the few people present who was not a Starfleet officer. "I take it, Professor, you've known Vash for quite a while," Gil guessed as he handed Clarktown a glass of Romulan ale. Clarktown took his glass. "Thank you; yes, ever since she was a freshman in my Archaeology 101 class." After taking a long drink, he continued, "Years later, after she received several doctorates, she joined the council. A short time after that, I just gave up trying to reprimand her for her various escapades. What could I do? Vash would listen to my diatribes with the sweetest smile on her face, batting those huge, blue eyes at me, she would give me this innocent 'Who me?' look. And before I knew it, she would be off doing precisely whatever it was she wanted to do in the first place. The problem was she always managed to turn up the most impressive finds. She's one of the most gifted field archaeologists I've ever seen." Raleigh smiled, "That sounds like a very spirited filly." "I'm getting too old for this," Clarktown quipped, "Life on the Enterprise has tamed her slightly. I'm hoping marriage to the good captain here will rein her in the rest of the way." "To stay with the analogy," Picard commented wryly. "I'd only end up bucked off at a full gallop for my effort." "Does the lady throw you out of the saddle very often, Jean-Luc?" Admiral Stuart Bernard deadpanned from the other side of the table. Before Picard could find a suitable retort, his attention was drawn over to Geordi laughing. Picard raised an eyebrow at his chief engineer, "Geordi." "Oh come on, I may have thought it, but I didn't say it," La Forge replied, still laughing. "Do I at least get points for not saying it." "Only a few," Picard said as he accepted a glass of Aldebaran whiskey from a waitress. Picard was talking to Clarktown about one of the more recent digs on Kurlan when the first stripper appeared on the stage. A very statuesque blond strutted out to center stage. Her voluptuous curves were tightly wrapped in a black sequined gown with bright red satin gloves and a red feather boa finishing off her costume. As she began a slow bump and grind striptease to the composition *The Stripper*, Picard caught Will Riker gleefully grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, the captain rather dispassionately watched the stripper. The young lady was certainly pretty and a fairly good dancer, but Picard had seen better bump and grinds, fairly recently actually. He turned his attention back to his conversation with Professor Clarktown. 'All right, Captain, the blond bombshell isn't the only thing in my arsenal,' Riker thought to himself resolutely as he watched Picard, seemingly unimpressed by the stripper, resume his conversation with Clarktown. 'Eventually, we will stumble onto something that suits your tastes.' The captain's self-control was quite literally the stuff legends were made of. Riker greatly respected Picard's cool composure and had learned from it; however, on rare occasions, Riker took almost a boyish delight in seeing if he could surprise his friend and catch him off guard, if only for a moment. Leaning back in his chair, Riker enjoyed the rest of the blonde's performance. He was mildly disappointed when, after the stripper threw her gloves and feather boa into the audience, the gloves fell onto Raleigh's lap and her boa fell on Data. Riker would have paid dearly for any one of those items to have landed on Picard. However, Data and Raleigh seemed delighted at the events. The second stripper was a very buxom brunette dressed in a French-style Can Can costume and doing a rather erotic version of the Can Can. Still, Riker saw absolutely no reaction from Picard. The third stripper was a tall, willowy, red-head whose generous curves nearly spilled out of her very skimpy 'French maid's' outfit. Her shapely legs were covered with fishnet stockings and she wore five inch, stiletto-heeled shoes. As she shimmied her way across the stage to the beat of the music, she would bend over provocatively to dust imaginary objects with her duster. Picard leaned over to Riker with long-suffering exasperation in his voice, "Will, I've spent a great deal of time in France and have seen my fair share of French women. I hate to break it to you, but they don't dress that way." "Killjoy," Riker retorted with a chuckle. Just then a waitress came up and handed Picard a small folded note. The captain smiled as he read the one word message, 'Engage.' He looked up, "Geordi, could you do me a favor?" "Of course, sir." "A couple of cases of Chardonnay have just arrived and are in the front lobby. There should be one bottle for everyone here. Could you please check it for me and bring them in?" Picard asked. "Chardonnay?" Riker raised an eyebrow, "That's pretty extravagant." "Not when you own the vineyard, Will. Data," Picard glanced over to see the android currently had the feather boa around his neck and was playing with the ends of it. With a chuckle, Picard chastised, "Data, put that ridiculous thing down and go help Geordi with the cases of wine." "Yes, sir," Data replied as he put down the boa and followed Geordi out of the room. Out in the front lobby, Geordi and Data were checking out the cases of wine when they heard the familiar voice of Doctor Beverly Crusher quietly whisper from behind them, "Hello, gentlemen." Both of them turned. Geordi gasped, "Doc, what are you doing here?" "Shhhh! Not so loud." Beverly whispered, "Jean-Luc knows I'm here. He has a little surprise planned for Will." Geordi smiled, "But why tell us?" "Because you two are the only ones in the room capable of accidentally springing the surprise before its proper time," Beverly explained, somewhat cryptically. "All you two have to do is sit tight and play along." "Captain Picard, our Captain Picard, is going to play a practical joke?" Geordi gasped in awe. "Oh now this I've got to see." "It's a beaut, boys," Beverly giggled. "I think Jean-Luc has been biding his time ever since that little horga'hn incident on Risa. Poor Will won't know what hit him." "We're in," Geordi said, as he and Data exchanged grins. "Trust me, it will be well worth it," Beverly assured them with a knowing smile. "Now go on. Take the wine in before anyone gets suspicious." "Thank you, gentlemen," Picard offered as Geordi and Data sat back down after distributing the bottles of wine. "You're welcome, sir," Geordi answered, "It was our pleasure." Picard lit a cigar, and settled back into his chair. Contentedly, he thought to himself, 'The game's afoot.' After two more dancing girls performed, the last dancing girl came on stage. As the strains of an exotic Arabian composition filled the room, a brunette with a delicate frame and flawless, ivory skin began a slow, seductive belly dance. Her perfect curves were clad in a bright, teal-blue, harem girl costume with silver trim. At the center of her generous cleavage lay a silver clasp that highlighted her teal-blue, sequined brassiere-style top. Her long, shapely legs were showcased in very sheer, blue chiffon harem pants that were accented with brightly sequined cuffs around her slender ankles and silver high-heeled shoes. The sequined bikini-style yoke of the pants rode very low on her hips. As she danced, her slim waist and flat stomach undulated to the beat of the music causing the large blue gemstone in her navel to sparkle under the stage lights. An opaque, blue scarf covered the entire lower half of her face. The scarf attached to the sides of her Egyptian-style headpiece, a cap made of silver chains with blue beads accenting it. From beneath her headpiece, her silky brunette hair fell in glamorous curls to her bare midriff. Without any pretense, Picard allowed his eyes to travel hungrily over the vision of feminine perfection in front of him. He openly admired her curvaceous silhouette as she danced for him. Sitting forward slightly, he threw back his drink, finishing the whiskey in one swallow. As she beckoned to him with enticing movements of her arms, he answered with a small wolfish smile. 'Yes! Sensors detect a direct hit!' Riker thought to himself with a huge victorious grin as he observed Picard's reaction to the belly dancer. He was slightly startled by the way Picard was able to finish the Aldebaran whiskey in one smooth gulp; Aldebaran whiskey was pretty powerful stuff. The first officer looked over at the 'harem girl' who had managed to capture the captain's full attention. Riker found himself transfixed by the sight of her lithe, delicate frame moving with effortless grace as she performed her alluring dance. Her hair fell past her shoulders in a silky cascade of curls that drew attention to the full curves of her breasts, her tiny waist and the feminine flair of her hips. Noticing how her long, shapely legs seemed to go on for light-years, Riker had to admit that he liked his CO's taste. Across the table from Picard and Riker, Geordi leaned into Data and whispered, "Oh my God! She's . . ." "Impressive, most impressive," Data finished under his breath as Geordi trailed off, speechless. "That's putting it mildly," Geordi answered with admiration in his voice as the dancing girl on stage turned her back to them. She showed amazing agility as she bent over backward to look out at her audience, giving a breathtaking view of the lush cleavage that threatened to spill out of her sequined brassiere. With a smile, La Forge added, "We should enjoy this while it lasts. Somehow, I think this is a one shot deal and I doubt we'll ever be graced with an encore performance." "Agreed," Data replied as he returned the smile. Without missing a beat, the belly dancer straightened up and spun back around to face her audience. As her body swayed enticingly to the music, Picard allowed his gaze to sweep over her until his eyes locked with hers. His eyes never leaving hers, Picard puffed on his cigar and pushed his chair out from the table. He leaned back, making himself very comfortable in his chair. Arching an eyebrow in a silent invitation, Picard briefly took the cigar out of his mouth and casually blew a perfect smoke ring. From over her blue scarf, Vash coyly fluttered her eyelashes at him, accepting his invitation. As she continued her traditional belly dance and gradually made her way off the stage, she noticed a few reactions from the audience. Geordi and Data were just too funny, watching her like a couple of shy, but very interested, schoolboys. From the amused expression on his face, it was fairly obvious that Clarktown knew who she was. Completely clueless, Will spent half the time making eyes at her as she danced and the other half grinning smugly in Jean-Luc's direction. She knew that smug smile was about to disappear. Leaned back in his chair, Jean-Luc gave an outward appearance of casual indulgence. However, as her gaze locked with his, she could see the intensity in his steel-grey eyes. Vash felt an answering surge of arousal in response to the carnal heat contained in Jean-Luc's eyes. As Vash began to slowly, lasciviously, dance around his chair, the very idea of this public foreplay sent a highly charged, erotic thrill coursing through her. With a slightly bewildered expression, Riker watched as the beauty danced around Picard like a prized concubine entertaining her sultan. Noting Picard's obvious delight, the first officer began to wonder just how much whiskey the captain had had to drink that evening. Riker really hadn't paid any attention. After all, he'd known Picard for over a decade and had never seen him even the slightest bit tipsy, let alone drunk. Vash knew what she had planned next would most likely panic Riker and it would also mercilessly tease Jean-Luc. She had to admit trying to actually nudge Jean-Luc's incredible self-control was half the fun of this little game. As the concluding strains of the Arabian composition swirled through the room, Vash slowly sunk to her knees at Jean-Luc's feet. Bending over backward until her head just brushed the floor, she arched her body toward the starship captain, surrendering herself to him in a timeless fashion. As always, Vash's dancing had sent Picard's libido and his imagination racing at warp nine. The sight of her now sprawled so invitingly in front of him drove his need up to an almost unbearable level. Deciding he would definitely take her up on the offer later, Picard reached down and helped the beautiful woman up to her feet. As his eyes greedily traced every curve of her feminine silhouette, he gently pulled her down to sit on his lap. As Vash settled herself against him, Picard slipped his arm around her bare midriff, enjoying the feel of her soft, satiny skin. He began toying with the heavy, silken mass of curls that caressed her waist. With his free hand, he held his cigar. There were a few startled glances from the more seasoned officers. But they relaxed as they saw that Raleigh seemed amused and completely unruffled, as did Vash's mentor, Professor Clarktown. William Riker was completely flabbergasted by the sight of his soon-to-be married CO sitting there with a dancing girl on his lap. Riker was so stunned that he didn't even notice the looks of amusement on the faces of Raleigh, Data, Geordi, and Clarktown. Sitting on Picard's lap, Vash ran her hands up over the muscular expanse of his chest to rest on his broad shoulders. Her senses stirred at the warmth of his strong hand sliding over the bare skin of her waist. The way he was playing with the curls in her hair was driving her to distraction. Vash studied the handsome, chiseled features of Jean-Luc's face and the firm set of his mouth. Suddenly hungry for his kiss, she found herself daydreaming about his lips, firm but pliant, pressed against hers. Slipping one arm around his neck, her other hand leisurely traced along the deep V-neckline of his shirt. Fascinated by the strength of the muscles beneath her fingertips, her fingers strayed more and more from the neckline of his shirt to his bare chest. Leaning into him, she closed her eyes and nuzzled his neck. She delighted in the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave and the feel of the hard length of his body beneath hers. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer. Her excitement fed off his as Jean-Luc freely gave into impulses that he would have normally curbed severely in public. "Well Captain," Clarktown chuckled, "You have to admit . . . it's good to be the king." Picard looked over at Clarktown, his voice was a little huskier than normal as he replied, "You're damn right." Vash took the momentary interruption to try and rein in her increasing desires. She glanced over at Riker. Smiling behind her scarf, Vash realized Will had gone right past panicked and was now next door to hysterical. "Geordi," Riker sputtered under his breath as he leaned over to the engineer. "Just how much has the Captain had to drink?" "I don't know," Geordi answered with a calm smile. "He seems sober enough to me." "Sober? Are you kidding?" Riker hissed, "Look at him!" "Looks like he's having a great time," Geordi offered pleasantly. "If Vash finds out about this, she will kill him!" Riker exclaimed, frustrated that Geordi just wasn't seeing the obvious problem. Unable to help himself, Geordi cheerfully remarked to his friend, "Well then, I guess that will make you the captain." Riker pulled at his beard apprehensively, "She'll kill me too! " "And that will make me the captain," Data quipped with a smile. Riker rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair in nervous exasperation. Riker's heart leapt into his throat as he heard Admiral Raleigh voice, "For God's sake, Picard, take the wench and get a room, will ya?" Picard looked over at Raleigh "Know of one that's available, Gil?" "Sure do. Here, catch," Raleigh replied with a huge grin as he tossed Picard a security key-card. Picard reached up and caught the card in midair as Raleigh added, "Starfleet Command's penthouse here in Tycho city is not being used at the moment. Enjoy." "No no no no no . . ." Riker intoned under his breath, things had gotten desperately out of hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Picard could see that Riker looked about ready to hyperventilate. Picard had seen Crusher's report on Will's latest physical, so he knew his first officer was in no real danger of heart failure. With unmitigated glee, he decided to bait Will just a little further. Picard stood up, lifting Vash in his arms, "Come along, my pretty little thing, let's find out if you do more than dance." Hearing Picard's very uncharacteristic response, Riker almost choked. His alarm was evident in his voice as he stood up and whispered, "Geordi, we have to stop him." "No, you have to stop him," Geordi corrected good-naturedly. Seeing Riker's complete panic, he couldn't help but continue, "Decisions, decisions. Let's see, stop the captain from bedding a woman he fancies or face Vash and become the first gelding in Starfleet. Whoa! Been nice knowing you, Commander." 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! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? Sun Apr 25 00:01:46 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n26.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.82]) by penguin (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1bhAP419O3NZFl45 for ; Sat, 24 Apr 2004 21:00:54 -0700 (PDT) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1977044-13469-1082865644-stephenbratliffasc=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yah