In response to Ruth's 1000 word/captain and officer/tricorder/masturbation challenge

Standard disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters and I'm just a perverted so-and-so. You know the drill.

Picard entered the lounge and spotted Crusher. "Boring mission," he grumbling, sliding into a vacant seat.

Crusher nodded, never looking up from the tricorder.

"What's that?" Picard asked, trying to pull the tricorder towards himself. "Research?"

Jack shook his head. "Letter. Beverly."

Picard frowned. "How is she?"

"Fine. Fine." Jack smiled. "Very fine." He looked up at his captain, and beyond to a clock on the wall. "Damn. Time for me to beam down. Boring mission."

"So I've heard."

"Ben Zoma will have my head if my team's late. Says the planet gives him the willies. Your watch?"

Picard shook his head. "Just done."

Jack thrust the tricorder at him. "Hold this for me?" Without waiting for an answer, he left.

In his quarters Picard settled down with one of the books acquired on the ship's last shore leave. Try as he might, though, he couldn't keep his eyes from shifting to Jack's tricorder, lying spotlit on his desk. What was so important that Beverly couldn't send it over normal comm channels?

He wasn't going to look. It wouldn't be right.

It couldn't be confidential, or Jack wouldn't have left it with him.

He wasn't going to look. It wouldn't be right.

If it were confidential, surely it would be password protected.

He'd just check that. It wouldn't be invading their privacy, would it?

There was no password, just a stardate. The end of their shore leave, after everyone reported back but before the last of the supplies were loaded. Beverly must have sent the chip with them.

It was probably just an ordinary letter, no different than the dozens Jack had already shared. Jack would probably share this one, too, when he got around to it. Maybe he knew something of how Jean-Luc felt, or maybe he thought everyone was as crazy about Beverly as he was. And maybe he was right.

Jean-Luc would look. It wouldn't be wrong.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Beverly on the small screen, prim and proper in her uniform. He raised the sound a little, hoping to overcome the poor quality with quantity. He almost removed the chip and interfaced with his desk computer, but it felt too much like cheating.

On screen, Beverly was speaking:

"Hello, sailor. I miss you already. But guess what?" She leaned back and smiled. "I spent a fascinating evening clearing your files off my computer. And you'd never believe what I found."

She crossed her hands over her chest and continued. "I'm impressed. Great directorial skills. And, by the way, I'm taking the cameras out unless you ask very, very nicely. Like maybe a few new files. It gets awful lonely here without you." She leaned forward. "You could make it a career. I know lots of people who'd pay for stuff like this. We could buy Caldos on what we'd make on a Jean-Luc holovid alone. I see it now: The Men of The Stargazer."

"Anyway, I didn't know if you had a copy of this file, and it would be a pity if you didn't. Love you. Write. And now that I know your camera skills, I expect to be entertained..."

The screen blackened and the attached file began.

Beverly's hair. And then a hand, running through it. Beverly moaned, and so did Jean-Luc. There must have been another camera, because the view shifted lower down, to a hand rubbing her crotch, to her pushing her hips against that hand.

Back up, to a hand lowering the zipper of her uniform. Then Jack's face came into focus, kissing the exposed skin. Back down, the view obscured by falling cloth, then by Jack's face, lips pressed to Beverly's stomach.

Jack stripped her, turned her around to where the cameras must have been. He fondled her breasts, rubbing the nipples between his long fingers. Ran his hand through the curls between her legs, spreading her for the camera, rubbing her, penetrating.

Picard hadn't realized he was rubbing his own erection in perfect time until he reached for his zipper.

The view shifted down again, between Beverly's legs to Jack's erection. He hadn't know that Jack was undressed, but now his gaze was fixed on his friend's cock, slowly pushing home. They are both so beautiful.

Back up, to Beverly's breasts, dangling, Jack's fingers caressing. Down, to their coupling, to his fingers rubbing her, displaying her.

Jean-Luc's fist sped up, trying to stay with the couple on screen. Beverly was fantasy, but Jack--he'd never thought of Jack like that. So why didn't he want to replace Jack, be the one thrusting into Beverly? Why did he wish he was there, letting them watch him as he watched them?

Jack squeezed Beverly's breast, and Jean-Luc his own balls. Jack traced the shape of Beverly's clit, and Jean-Luc traced the veins of his erection. Jack's thrusts pushed Beverly forward, and she pushed back onto his cock while Jean-Luc's hips lifted from his chair.

Faster and faster, harder, until there was only the rush for oblivion and the shared screams of love.

Picard was cleaning and collecting himself when he got the call. "Bridge to Captain."

"Picard here."

"We've got trouble with the away team, sir. We're bringing them back."

"Let me speak to Commander Crusher."

"I'll patch you through to the away team."

A chirp, a new voice. "Greyhorse."

"Where's Jack?"

"Captain..."

Picard's jaw tensed. "What?" he asked, though he already knew.

"They came out of nowhere. No warning. They just...attacked. Jack's gone. Meet me in the morgue."

"On my way." He closed the channel, cleaned himself and changed. On his way out he remembered the tricorder, wondered what to do with it.

One thing he knew. He had been sitting there, pleasuring himself at the Crushers' expense while Jack was dying. He could never tell Beverly--not about the tricorder chip, not about what he had done, never about how he felt. It would be betraying his friends, a betrayal worse than death.