Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 26 Apr 2004 07:42:18 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com (whoa nellie) 
 

Title: Nocturnal Transmissions
Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)
Series: TNG 
Repost: 1/7
Rating: NC-17 
Codes: P/Vash
Synopsis: The evil alternate Picard from the mirror universe returns
for Vash.  Can Picard stop his counterpart and save the love of his
life?

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/

Nocturnal Transmissions

	Imperial Captain Jean-Luc Picard, with his personal bodyguard behind
him, purposefully walked through the corridors of the ISS Enterprise E
on his way to engineering.  As he passed them, crewmen snapped to
attention and saluted him smartly.  Each crewman thumped their right
chest and then extended their arm with their hand held flat outward. 
The captain didn't notice.  His mind was filled with thoughts of
finally possessing his extremely beautiful, but elusive quarry.  She
just barely managed to slip through his fingers the last time.  He had
waited nearly a year and a half for the right opportunity to go back
for her and now it looked as if the perfect occasion had presented
itself.

	As the captain entered engineering, he scanned the area for his chief
engineer.  The low roar of the immense engines that powered the
Leviathan class battleship and her horrific weaponry reverberated
through the floor of the deck.  He spotted Commander Geordi LaForge
going over schematics displayed on a computer terminal halfway across
the room and made his way over to him.

	"Captain."  The chief engineer stood up straight and saluted his
commanding officer.

	"Report, Commander," the captain ordered brusquely.

	"Everything is right on schedule, sir.  The new interdimensional
transporter will be ready in seven days," LaForge informed him,
glancing only briefly at the huge bodyguard standing right behind the
captain.  "The Ferengi thought-maker and interdimensional transmitter
is ready for use.  To keep reliable coordinates for transport, I
recommend that contact be made with the intended target in the other
universe every twenty-four hours until the transporter is ready."

	"A successful test of this equipment is of the utmost importance to
Starfleet Command and the capture of the intended test target is of
great significance to me personally.  The target is extremely cunning,
Commander, I do not wish to tip our hand."  The captain coldly told
the engineer before asking, "Exactly how will the target perceive the
transmission?"

	LaForge handed him a device, a small black square with a glowing half
sphere on top.  "The transmission is experienced by the target as
simply a dream.  The sender has complete control over the content,
complexity and the direction of the transmission.  A telepathic sender
will be able to see the target's reactions and experience the dream
being transmitted as well as read the target's thoughts.  A
non-telepathic sender, such as yourself, sir, will be able to see the
target's reactions and experience the dream being transmitted, but
will not be able to read the thoughts of the target."

	"Understood, Commander, carry on."  Turning on his heel, Imperial
Captain Picard left engineering with the device and headed for his
personal quarters.

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

 	Vash found herself reclining on a large overstuffed couch
upholstered in a very soft, camel-colored suede.  She sat up and
surveyed her surroundings, trying to orientate herself.  She was in
the sitting room of a small spaceship about the size of the Enterprise
E's new captain's yacht.  At one end of the couch wall an easy chair
with a matching ottoman upholstered in the same rich suede.  In front
of the couch was a coffee table of highly-polished oak.  The wall
behind the couch, as well as the wall across the room from the couch,
was lined with large oval windows, giving a stunning view of the stars
outside.  On the wall across from the couch was a long desk of highly
polished oak with a high-backed, leather wing chair.  The floor was
covered with a very deep, plush, burgundy carpet.  On a third wall was
a large oak display case and a doorway.  The display case held a vast
collection of weapons, including a jeweled cutlass, a stiletto, a
derringer, a Luger, a Klingon bat'telh and a Romulan disrupter.  Also
in the display case was an impressive display of what looked like
military decorations.

	Vash turned her head to look at the fourth wall behind her.  On that
wall was an intricately carved credenza with a large mirror over it
and another doorway.  Standing up, she walked over to the mirror and
she studied herself in it.  She was dressed in a sleeveless, full
length gown made of a shimmering white organza.  The barely opaque
material clung to the feminine curves of her delicate frame.  Her
slender waist was emphasized by the gown's wide, fitted waistband of
white and silver brocade.  Three jeweled clasps along the front of the
waistband were all that held the gown closed.  With each breath, the
soft roundness of her cleavage threatened to spill out of the V
neckline of the gown which plunged all the way down to top of the
waistband.  With every step, her long legs were exposed to her upper
thigh by the slit that ran from the bottom of the waistband to the hem
of the gown.  Vash's brunette hair hung to her shoulders in gentle
loose curls.  Her blue eyes went wide with shock as she realized that
underneath the gown she was wearing nothing except a pair of white
satin slippers on her feet.

	Cautiously, Vash stepped over to the door and it slid open revealing
a large bedroom.  The decor of the room was quite luxurious as well as
decidedly masculine.  Long, mahogany dressers and tall, oval windows
lined two walls.  Centered on the wall in front of her was an immense
mahogany four-poster bed.  The rich burgundy color of the silk bedding
matched the deeply-piled carpet.  A sumptuously plump comforter was
turned down to show matching sheets and collection of voluminous
pillows at the head of the bed.  Her eyes drifted up to the wall above
the head of the bed where there was a large plaque and she instantly
recognized the depiction on it.  It was the Picard family
coat-of-arms.  Just days before they were married, Jean-Luc had shown
her a similar plaque that hung over the fireplace in the dining room
of the Picard ancestral home.  But something about this plaque was not
quite right and she looked closer at the design.  The features of the
crossed swords were harsher, much more menacing.  Vash glanced down at
her left hand, her wedding ring was gone.

	"Patience, ma belle," a familiar baritone rumbled from behind her.
"We'll make it into the bedroom soon enough."

	Although it had been almost a year and a half, Vash realize instantly
who that voice belonged to.  She knew instinctively that the man
behind her was Imperial Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Jean-Luc's
counterpart from a brutal, alternate universe.  As Vash turned around
to face him, the movement caused the slit on the front of her gown to
flutter open, briefly revealing her long shapely legs.  The cool air
tingled against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

	The alternate Picard stood nonchalantly in the far doorway, the
cockpit of the ship visible behind him.  His appearance reminded Vash
of a rakishly dashing pirate.  The corded muscles of his well-defined
chest and arms were displayed by a sleeveless vest.  The vest was made
of a crimson metallic fabric with gold epaulettes that emphasized his
broad, masculine shoulders.  On the left side of his vest there was a
Starfleet Parabola with a dagger through the center of it.  A
ceremonial dagger hung from the woven-gold sash that belted the waist
of the short vest.   The tight black, uniform pants conformed to his
body's every muscle.

	Both this man and her husband were genetically Jean-Luc Picard, with
the same sleek, muscular build, the same handsome, chiseled features,
the same penetrating, steel, grey eyes, and the same deep, sexy,
resonating voice.  The unadulterated, masculine presence of either of
these two men could easily overwhelm Vash's senses, especially with
that masterful voice.  Although physically the two men were identical
in every way, their personalities were very different.  This alternate
Picard was a sinister mirror image of her own Jean-Luc.  They were two
very different versions of the same man.  Vash's heart began to pound
against her chest from an intense combination of apprehension and
sexual tension.

	"Imperial Captain Jean-Luc Picard," Vash said squaring her shoulders
slightly and trying to keep a calmness in her voice that she didn't
feel.  "Would you mind telling me where I am, please?"

	"You're right where you belong, Ma belle," his voice was casual,
"aboard my private yacht, the ISS Valhalla."

	"Valhalla was the great palace of the Nordic god Odin," Vash told
him, almost amused by the inference.  "I'm happy to see you don't
suffer from any delusions of grandeur."

	"Impressive," he chuckled as he walked over to a replicator and
called for a glass of Aldebaran whiskey.  After taking a drink, he
gestured toward her with the glass.  "I'm pleased you recognize the
reference."

	"I do have a doctorate in archaeology and several other advanced
degrees in history."  She muttered somewhat indignantly.  She leaned
back against the wall next to the bedroom door, being careful to keep
the slit running up the front of the gown closed.  She watched him
drink the whiskey.  "Basic Earth mythology is certainly within my
grasp."

	"Of course it is, kitten, and I'm sure you have some brilliant
insights on the subject."  The alternate Picard said indulgently. 
Having finished his drink, he placed the glass back in the replicator.
 He walked across the room toward her and stopped next to the coffee
table.  His eyes never left her as he laid his dagger on the table.

	Vash knew she should try to flee from him.  She should try to get
past him to the cockpit to send a distress signal or try to find the
emergency escape pod.  She knew she should try to do those things, but
she felt frozen in place, as if she couldn't control her own actions. 
All of Vash's attention was riveted on the man in front of her.  She
was fascinated by the tightly sculpted strength of his bare arms.  She
found herself yearning for the feel of those large, capable hands
possessively roaming over her soft skin.  Every movement of his
powerful leg muscles could be seen in the tight, black pants as he
walked across the room.

	Blushing, Vash quickly looked away.  Sounding more flustered than she
would have liked, she inquired, "what do you mean I belong here?"

	"You are my concubine."  The alternate Picard's words were emphasized
by a tone of possessive pride.  "Now, look at me."

	Vash lifted her face to meet his gaze.  He gave her a small
predatorial smile as his eyes hungrily traveled over every curve of
her feminine silhouette.  She felt the intense heat from his
desire-hardened, grey eyes course over her entire body like it were an
actual physical caress.  A shiver of excitement raced through her. 
The rosy crests of her breasts hardened, pushing against her gown as
the sensation spread across her.  Suddenly, she was very aware of the
way the nearly translucent material of the shimmery gown molded itself
to her like a second skin.  Conscious of her body's reaction to his
searing gaze, she crossed her arms in front of her in what she knew
was a pathetically futile attempt to protect herself.

	"Never deny me, ma belle."  His commanding, demanding tone captivated
her. "You belong to me, all of you.  I want to see the fire in your
eyes as you become aroused by the sound of my voice.  I am the reason
your skin flushes with anticipation, awaiting my touch.  Your
beautiful breasts are hardened and aching for my hands and lips to
possess them."

	Her arms fell helplessly to her side as she licked her suddenly dry
lips. Breathlessly, she began to protest, "Captain, please."

	"What would it take to get you to call out my name, Vash?" the
alternate Picard asked, his voice deep and resonating.

	Vash felt like a tiny robin that had fallen under the spell of a king
cobra's stare.  She found herself held hostage by this man's sheer
animal magnetism.  She bit her bottom lip as the erotic images of
about a dozen answers to his question flitted across her mind.

	"You're fantasizing about me," this Picard growled triumphantly,
sounding like a pleased lion. "You always bite your lower lip when
you're fantasizing."

	"This is insane," Vash muttered.  Dragging her eyes away from his
overpowering gaze, she became aware of the hard evidence of his desire
straining impressively against the tight fabric of his pants.  The
sight sent another heated rush of arousal through her.

	"Not insanity, ma belle, lust.  My body has been rock-hard from it
ever since the first time I laid eyes on you," the alternate Picard
baited her shamelessly as he untied the woven-gold sash at his waist,
casually tossing it to the couch.

	"Captain," Vash stammered in protest, unable to think of anything
else to say.  She  blushed at having been caught, but didn't look
away.

	"I was simply stating the obvious," he replied with a wicked smile. 
Undoing the front of his vest, he pulled it off to toss it aside to
land on the couch next to the sash.

	Vash's breath caught in her throat at the sight of his lean hard body
stripped to the waist.  Her eyes drank in the tightly leashed strength
contained in the sculpted muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms. 
Slowly, he advanced toward her and Vash tried to retreat back against
the wall even more.  She looked down as he stopped directly in front
of her with only an inch of space between them.  He was standing so
close that she could feel the heat from his body.  She could detect
the subtle, but very provocative, combination of the smell of the
whiskey and his clean, masculine scent.

	"Vash," he rasped hoarsely, making her name a sensual command.  She
raised her face to meet his gaze.  She was unable to resist him,
tantalized by his smoldering grey eyes and the firm set of his mouth. 
She was hungry for his kiss.

	"You belong to me, kitten. You're mine for the taking and I intend to
take possession of every lovely inch of you.  I'm going to kiss your
lush lips hard as I fill my hands with the full curves of your perfect
breasts.  I will slowly roll my tongue over the sweet, hard peaks of
your breasts as if they were a wine of the finest vintage.  I'm going
to feel your magnificent body writhing beneath mine as I take you to
the peak of ecstasy.  I will hear you call out my name as my body
drives deep inside yours, possessing you body and soul."  The wolfish
timbre of his bedroom baritone had the effect of a physical touch,
making her entire body tremble from intense sexual desire.

	"Ohhh!" Vash cried out in shock, feeling his hand thrust into the
slit of her skirt and between her inner thighs.  His fingers invaded
and stroked her mercilessly, arousing the very center of her desire. 
The exquisite torment was driving her to near insanity.  She knew she
should push him away and flee, but she couldn't make her traitorous
body move away from the fire his questing hands were building. 
Instead, she let his touch take her to an even higher height of need. 
Going weak in the knees, Vash reached up to grip the bulges of his
upper arms for support

	"You're so wet, Vash." The alternate Picard's growl was husky with
masculine satisfaction as his fingers continued to caress and fill her
erotically.  "The mere sound of my voice has you so wet and ready for
me."

	Before Vash could respond, his lips claimed hers in a fiercely
demanding kiss.  Her arms slipped up around his neck as his tongue
plunged past her lips to boldly stake claim to everything in its path.
 Vash could only whimper into his kiss in protest when his hand left
her.  Both of his hands slid up her tiny ribcage to cup her breasts
just as he said he would.  She could feel the heat of his strong hands
through the thin material of the gown.  The hardened peaks of her
breasts tingled as his thumbs rubbed over them.  Breaking the kiss,
the alternate Picard lowered his mouth to gently nibble at the
sensitive spot where Vash's neck met her shoulder.

	"Captain," Vash moaned softly.  Even to her own ears it sounded like
a plea for more.

	"I want to hear you say my name," he whispered into the curve of her
neck.

	Vash shivered at the feel of his breath and warm lips against the
delicate skin of her neck.  He pulled back and looked down at her. 
His hands found the edges of the plunging neckline and impatiently
pulled the material aside.  His heated gaze swept over her breasts
with their lush roundness and ivory skin tipped with deep rosy peaks. 
Vash gasped and trembled as his large hands moved to cradle her now
bare breasts, the hardened crests pressing against his palms.

	"Your body is so incredibly responsive," the alternate Picard rasped.
 He lowered his head to capture the stiff nipple of one of her breasts
in his mouth and a low moan escaped from Vash's lips.  Leisurely, he
swirled his tongue over the sensitive peak.

	"Oh please," she whimpered, her head rolling back against the wall. 
Her mind told her to push him away and flee, but her body wouldn't
listen.  As streaks of fire raced through her entire body, her
delicate hands traveled across his scalp until her fingers tangled
themselves in the fringe of grey hair at the nape of his neck.

	"My name, Vash, I want to hear you say my name," the alternate Picard
coaxed in a deep, resonating whisper.  He moved his head to her other
breast and gently pulled at her nipple with his teeth, punishing her
with this pleasure-pain for denying him his desire.  His hands moved
down and undid the three jeweled clasps on the front of the gown.  The
gown hung open, exposing every inch of Vash's curvaceous silhouette to
his carnal onslaught.  Slipping his strong hands inside the gown, he
gripped her tightly around her small waist.  He fell to his knees and
his mouth left her breasts to slowly journey down the smooth skin of
her flat stomach with a trail of hot, moist kisses.

	"Picard," Vash gasped, the sensations so overwhelming that she almost
gave into his demand.  Every touch of his lips and tongue felt like a
lightning strike to her sensitive skin.  Her fingers tightened
reflexively in his hair.

	"Getting closer," he noted in a pleased rumble, his mouth traversing
even lower.  Sliding his hands to grasp the gentle flare of her hips
to hold her still, his lips finally reached their intended
destination. Vash closed her eyes and moaned softly as she felt him
lick and softly kiss the very core of her desire as reward for her
partial compliance of his demand.  With the skill of a virtuoso, he
used his lips and tongue to take her almost to the peak of ecstasy. 
Leaving Vash whimpering, his mouth began to travel back up her body
tasting every dip and curve along the way.

	With every nerve of her body on fire and desperate for release, Vash
opened her eyes to find the alternate Picard staring down at her.  He
straightened up, his hungry gaze roving over her.  As he pulled back
from her, Vash's arms slipped from around his neck.  Her fingertips
brushed over the masculine slope of his broad shoulders, the coarse
hair on his muscular chest and down his taut stomach to the waistband
of his trousers before her arms fell helplessly to her sides.  Vash
felt as if she had no control over her actions or physical responses. 
She was unable to offer any resistance against his skillful seduction.
 The alternate Picard removed her gown, bringing his hands up to push
it off of her shoulders.  The material slid from her body to the floor
with a sigh.

	He wrapped one, powerful arm around her tiny waist, pulling her
roughly to him.  He brought his mouth crushing down on hers in a
savage kiss.  With a soft sigh of surrender, Vash gripped the solid
muscles of his upper arms and arched into him feeling every inch of
his hard form pressed against her own overheated body.  Without
breaking the kiss, he swept her up in his arms and effortlessly
carried her into the bedroom.

	As he stopped to stand at the side of the huge bed, his mouth finally
released hers.  The alternate Picard laid her down on the soft, satin
bedding.  The deep burgundy of  the satin highlighted the feverish
flush of her skin and her dark hair fell in a cascade over the
sumptuous pillow under her head.  The heat in his steel grey eyes
pinned her in place as he quickly stripped off his boots and trousers.
 Vash's breath caught in her throat at the sight of his rippling, hard
body glistening slightly beneath a sheen of sweat.

	The alternate Picard joined Vash on the bed, positioning himself
between her long, shapely legs.  His strong hands tightly gripped her
tiny wrists and forced her hands up above her head to lay against the
bedding.  He stretched himself out full-length to cover her body with
his own.  The hard length of his body weighted her down, crushing her
body into the bedding.  His mouth attacked hers in a ravenous kiss,
his tongue forcing its way past her lips to thoroughly explore her
mouth.  She writhed beneath him, desperate for him to satisfy the ache
inside her.

	"Oh please," Vash pleaded breathlessly when he finally broke the
kiss.

	"Please take you hard," the alternate Picard's voice was low and
husky, "Or please take you now?"

	"Both," she whimpered as she felt her breasts crushed against the
muscular expanse of his chest, the coarse hair on his chest tormenting
her already inflamed nipples.  She arched her hips toward him in
response to the erotic pressure of him pushing against her.

	"Just say my name, Vash," the alternate Picard growled as he withheld
from her what she so desperately burned for.  "I promise you, ma
belle, you will have both if you only say my name."

	"Jean-Luc!" Vash moaned ardently, as his body filled hers completely
with one, powerful movement.  She matched him motion for motion as he
drove himself into her hard and fast.  He thrust deeply into her over
and over driving her wild.

	"Oh Jean-Luc . . .more . . please more," Vash panted wantonly as wave
after wave of intense sensations crashed over her body.  As she moved
in perfect synchronization with him, her hardened nipples grazed
through the coarse hair on his chest adding to the fire that
threatened to consume her.

	"Oh yes, Jean-Luc," Vash's heated moans merged into a feral duet with
his growl of conquest.  She could feel him bury himself deep inside
her with each rapid thrust.  Her hips arched to accept every powerful
blow of his body into hers.

	"You're mine!" he hissed triumphantly as he thrust into her with an
ever-increasing urgency.  Fiercely, he drove himself deep into her. 
His body violently plummeted into hers repeatedly.

	In the same instant that he made one last deep, powerful thrust, she
arched her entire body up into his as an explosive release ripped
through her and she screamed out, "Jean-Luc!"

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

End Part 1

--
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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