As always: Paramount owns all the marbles. We just have a lot more fun playing with them.
Author's Notes: For more information on the quotes included in the story, a wonderful book is an anthology called *Cleopatra's Face: Fatal Beauty* by Michelle Lovric.

Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail.

Whoa Nellie's Picard/Vash Romance Fanfiction website:
http://geocities.datacellar.net/TimesSquare/Galaxy/7926/
 

KISS MY ASP

"Well, this should just about do it."  Commander William Riker handed the PADD to his commanding officer before pulling over a chair.  Spinning the chair around backward, he straddled it and rested his elbows on the back.  "I'm ready for a few days of shore leave on Starbase 231."

"Agreed, Number One.  The last few weeks we've spent working on this treaty with the Boslics have been arduous.  I do appreciate the long hours that the senior staff has put in," Captain Jean-Luc Picard replied wearily accepting the PADD from where he sat on his ready room lounge.  "I have no idea why Starfleet Command insists on sending us on these insufferable diplomatic missions."

"This seems to have started back during the negotiations over the colony at Tau Cygna V when you so deftly handled the Sheliak," Riker ribbed good-naturedly as Picard gave the treaty one final review.

"Nothing like rewarding a job well done," he shot back sardonically. "This looks good.  Send it to Starfleet Command for final approval." Picard handed the PADD back to his first officer.

"Aye, sir."

Leaning back in his chair, Picard rubbed the bridge of his nose and joked. "A few days of shore leave does sound rather appealing.  I could use the time to reintroduce myself to my wife."

"I'm sure she remembers you.  After all, Vash is a very smart lady and your name is all over the ship's manifest," Riker grinned.

Before Picard could respond he heard the distinctive whine of a transporter beam.  Turning, he saw a miniature replica of an ancient Egyptian royal barge materialize on his desk.  As both men stood and walked over to the desk, the captain muttered, "What the devil?"

"Do I smell your wife's perfume?" the first officer questioned.

"Vash has scented the sails with her perfume," Picard nodded, chuckling softly while fingering one of the tiny sails.  Opening the note that was resting inside the tiny barge, he read aloud the passage quoted on it.

" 'I will tell you.
The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie
In her pavilion,--cloth-of-gold of tissue,--
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy out-work nature: on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.' "

Noticing his first officer's expectant expression, Picard explained, "In Act II Scene ii of Shakespeare's *Antony and Cleopatra*, the character of Enobarbus recounts how Cleopatra first appeared to Marc Antony on a royally opulent barge.  Interestingly enough, the description of Cleopatra upon her barge presented by Shakespeare is almost an exact translation of a passage written by the ancient Roman historian Plutarch.  Cleopatra would scent the sails of her barge with her perfume and upon arriving in port, the scent would draw Antony to her for a liaison; at least according to legend."

With a devilish glint in his eye, Will prompted, "So does the lady archaeology professor mean for this to be an erotic proposal or a pop history quiz?"

"Most likely both, as well as a mild rebuke for my recent inattention," Picard conceded with small self-deprecating smile.  "Having received my summons, I should probably find out what Her Majesty requires.  You have the bridge, Number One."

"Aye, sir," Riker acknowledged. Unable to help himself, he added, "If I remember the play, Enobarbus warns that Antony will never be able to leave Cleopatra, because she is unlike any other woman."

Just before reaching the ready room door, Picard turned back toward Riker.  Narrowing his eyes and pointing a finger, he accused with feigned annoyance, "You are aware that this is all your fault, Commander.  You, that infernal shore leave on Risa and that damn horga'hn!"

Chuckling, Riker held his hands up in capitulation as the captain left the room. After the door slid shut behind Picard, another quote came to Riker's mind although this one pertained to Cleopatra and Caesar.   He murmured to himself " '. . . with such a creature as he had never before even dreamed of; the most beautiful of women stood in the presence of the most remarkable man of the century.' "

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

"The lengths I will go to just to placate this woman," Picard muttered under his breath, attaching a short sword to his skirt of tasses before adjusting his cuirass and crimson cape.  Dressed in the style of a Roman Legionnaire, he checked his reflection in his bedroom mirror and ordered, "Computer, initiate site to site transport to Holodeck 3."

Materializing on the holodeck, Picard found himself on a royal Egyptian barge resembling Plutarch's and Shakespeare's descriptions; off in the distance, he could see the ancient Mediterranean city of Tarsus.  Having spent many holodeck hours in sailing programs of his own, the captain gained his sea legs quickly. As he approached the doorway leading to the royal chambers the two sentries standing guard stepped aside to allow him to pass.  It seems he was expected.

The vast room was a splendid combination of gold gilding carved with Egyptian hieroglyphics, lavish draperies and sumptuous pillows made from opulent fabrics in rich jeweled tones.  A low square table was set with a banquet of fresh fruit, bread, various cheeses and wine.  At one end of the chamber was a raised dais with a large, circular bed made up with luxurious bedding in deep purple satin and surrounded by a diaphanous curtain of white muslin.  Indulgently stretched out across the bed was the goddess queen herself.  Adorned with gold beads at the bottom of each, a layer of thin braids veiled her shoulder-length, brunette hair.  The lush darkness of her lashes was accentuated by the thick, black eyeliner that outlined her beautiful, lapis-colored eyes.  A sly, enigmatic smile pulled at her full red lips. With each breath, the soft roundness of her cleavage threatened to spill out of the plunging V neckline of her sleeveless, full-length gown of shimmering gold silk.  The gossamer material clung to the feminine curves of her delicate frame with only an ornately jeweled clasp at her waist to hold the garment closed.  Golden armlets in the shape of asps wound around her delicate upper arms.  With a nonchalant wave of her hand, she dismissed the two servant boys fanning her.

Raising an eyebrow, the captain ventured playfully, "Let me guess, next you're going to have yourself rolled up in a carpet and snuck into my readyroom."

Vash's appreciative gaze traveled over the virile strength of Jean-Luc's body.  The sculpted muscles of his well-defined chest and arms were powerfully evident beneath the cuirass and crimson cape.  Despite his outward appearance of casualness, there was an intensity in his steel grey eyes that sent her pulse racing.  As a Roman Legionnaire, he was the very picture of raw masculinity.  Trying to sound imperious and regal, she inquired, "Is it a Caesar or an Antony who stands before me?"

Picard stared into her lovely face with his eyes lingering on her enticing lips as he moved to the bedside and dropped down to one knee in front of her.  Lowering his face until his lips were just a hairsbreadth from hers, he quoted in a rich, bedroom baritone, " 'Before the thought of Cleopatra every man is an Antony.' "

The impassioned timbre of his masterful voice ignited her body into a highly charged state of anticipation.  She found herself imagining his kiss, his lips firm but pliant as they took command of hers.  With Jean-Luc involved in such complex negotiations, they had spent very little time alone the last few weeks; having arranged this elaborate scenario, she wanted to savor it.  She knew if he kissed her while she was sprawled seductively across the bed this way, the situation would quickly spiral out of control.  She needed a chance to rein in her own escalating desires.

Expecting to kiss her, Picard could only watch as Vash ducked her head slightly to coyly evade his kiss before rising from the bed in a graceful series of fluid movements.  He took her proffered hand, allowing her to guide him back to the table in the center of the room.  With every step, the slit that ran from the waist to the hem of the gown parted to reveal her long, shapely legs.  Having a stray thought, he ordered, "Computer, secure holodeck three, priority one, authorization Picard four-seven-alpha-tango."

As she heard him lock out the rest of the universe, Vash turned to face him, resting her hands on the hard bulges of his biceps.  Enjoying the play of the strong muscles beneath her fingertips, she trailed her hands slowly up to his broad shoulders.  Unfastening his cape, she let it fall to the floor before turning her attention to the cuirass.  Beginning to remove the item, she muttered, "Roman Legionnaires wore far too much protective clothing."

"They were soldiers. Protective clothing is usually a good idea in battle," he managed to retort, fascinated by the sensual sight of her slender, feminine fingers deftly working the heavy leather fasteners of the cuirass.

"In this particular battle you won't be needing armor or a sword . . ." Vash cooed as she finally succeeded in vanquishing the armor breastplate.  Casually tossing his short sword over to join the rest of his accouterments, she quipped, "Not that kind of sword, anyway."

Chuckling softly at her double entendre, Picard sat down on the pillows. His Cleopatra knelt behind him and began to massage his neck and shoulders.  He briefly closed his eyes as her small hands skillfully worked the muscles.

"You're tense. I'm assuming long hours spent in difficult negotiations are the culprit," Vash observed expertly using the heel of her hand to apply pressure to a knot directly between his shoulder blades.  She heard his soft groan as the knot dissipated.  Her hands roamed over the firm planes of his sculpted shoulders and back.  She marveled at the tightly leashed strength contained in his lean, muscular body. "You need to relax."

"I need to be catching up on some ship's business," he conceded, feeling the tightness in his muscles abate under her ministrations.  In a charmingly wry tone, he added, "However, your invitation was too intriguing to resist, my queen."

As she draped herself over his back and shoulder, her body instinctively responded to the feel of Jean-Luc's hard, powerful form beneath her.  She drank in his clean, masculine scent while nuzzling his neck and gently tugging on his earlobe with her teeth.  In a passion-laced whisper, she quoted, " 'I serve him for his pleasure, not his good; And thus I keep him. ' "

" 'I want to wear out your lips with passionate kisses;' " he answered wolfishly as he twisted slightly to look at her.  She squealed in surprise when he grabbed her and pulled her down into his lap.  Burying his hands in her dark hair, he drew her face to his and captured her mouth in a fiercely possessive kiss plunging his tongue past her parted lips to plunder the depths of her mouth.  Blood roared in his ears as he felt the lush fullness of her lips crushed beneath his own and heard her soft moan of surrender.

A shiver of need raced through Vash's entire body as his tongue boldly lay claim to her.  The sensation spread across her breasts, the nipples hardening against the flimsy material of her gown.  She brought her arms up to encircle his neck, molding the supple curves of her body against the hard length of his.  Her breasts pressed up against the expanse of his chest, the taut peaks grazed solid muscle sending sparks from the aching crests.  Just when she thought she could stand no more, he broke the kiss.

His hands still entwined in her hair, Picard pulled back slightly to look down into her face.  Vash's breathing was ragged, her lips passion-swollen and a heated flush had swept up her ivory skin from underneath the neckline of her gown.  Her electric blue eyes fluttered open and locked with his.  Quietly, he marveled, "You are beautiful."

Before she could respond, he drew her face back to his.  Her lips opened pliantly under his to another deeply impassioned kiss.  The coarse rasp of his tongue along the sensitive depths sent heated waves crashing over her as his tongue ravaged her mouth.  She lost herself in the strength of his warm embrace, her body melting against the solid anchor of his masculine form.  His powerful hands sparked against her skin as they traveled down her neck and past her shoulders to the plunging neckline of her gown and deftly slipped inside the material, cupping the full curves of her breasts.  She arched herself into the pressure of his thumbs drawing slow circles around the aching peaks.  The streaks of pleasure added to the growing intensity and she broke the kiss with a sharp intake of breath and rolled her head back.

Taking advantage of the exposed, graceful curve of her throat, Picard's mouth blazed a moist trail down her neck until he found the pulse point just below her ear.  The spot never failed to drive her to distraction.  With each breath he took, her sweet scent tantalized him.  As he nuzzled the skin under her earlobe, he murmured, " 'Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space.' "

His low, resonating whisper reverberated against the sensitized skin of her neck.  Another heated surge of arousal washed over her as his tongue flicked against the pulse point and his thumbs continued to rhythmically tease and torment her nipples.  Throbbing with need, her entire body felt as if it were made of liquid flames.  She braced her hands on his broad shoulders and pushed herself away from him gasping for breath.  She shifted to straddle him, her legs finding purchase in the pillow on each side of him.  She found herself held captive by Jean-Luc's gaze, his handsome, chiseled features framing his piercing grey eyes.

Picard felt the muscles of his body tighten and his hardness grow with each passing moment.  The neckline of her shimmering gown exposed generous amounts of cleavage, the lush curves rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.  He could easily detect the outline of her nipples, the crests, hardened with anticipation, strained against the diaphanous fabric.  He slipped one hand into the slit of her gown, slowly sliding it up the satiny skin of her quivering inner thigh.  Finally reaching his destination, his fingers barely brushed the center of her desire.  With only his fingertips, he very lightly caressed and inflamed the moist heat already aching for him.  Her soft moans of need and the wet evidence of her arousal bathing his fingertips drove his desire up yet another notch.  He rasped hoarsely, "You're so very wet, petite amie. Do my kisses always do this to you?"

Barely grazing her damp, tingling flesh, Jean-Luc's fingers were erotically teasing Vash and sending waves of intense sensations flooding over her.  The exquisite torment was driving her to near insanity, his ghostly touch heightening the urgency of her desire.  With her hands clutching his broad shoulders tightly, she whimped "Please . . . Jean-Luc . . . Please . . . Oh God . . . Jean-Luc . . . Please!"

"Or have I been remiss in my duties and neglected you, my queen?"  From deep in his throat, the masculine growl teased and caressed her.  He gathered her tiny frame up into his arms and laid her down on the vast array of opulent pillows.  Kneeling next to her, he undid the clasp of her gown and drew the golden silk from her, his gaze slowly poring over the full length of her nude body.  He noted how her hair, strewn over one of the pillows, framed the delicate features of her face, her vivid blue eyes and her lush lips.  His eyes trailed over the graceful arch of her neck and the full curves of her breasts with their creamy skin tipped by rosy peaks.  As his heated gaze traveled down her slim waist, the feminine curve of her hips, and those long legs, he breathed, "Tu es un deesse."

Vash's entire body burned as his smoldering stare traveled the length of her now-naked body.  The emotions this man ignited in her were unlike anything she had ever known.  Enthralled by the masculine power of his body, her eyes drifted over his broad shoulders, past the well-defined muscles of his chest, the bulging biceps of his upper arms and down along the tapering lines of his torso to the taut strength of his stomach.

Moving slightly to kneel between her supple thighs, Picard spanned her slim waist with his large hands, sliding them up the smooth skin of her stomach.  He leaned in and found the pulse point in the hollow of her throat, flicking his tongue very rapidly against it.  His hands found her breasts, caressing them possessively.  Vash rolled her head back on the pillow, softly moaning.  His mouth made its way down the silken expanse of her skin to the full curves cupped in his hands.  His teeth gently imprisoned the taut nipple of one of her breasts and he leisurely swirled his tongue over the stiff peak.  Savoring her impassioned reactions, he nipped at the hardened crest slightly before suckling strongly.  He ravenously tormented first one breast and then the other.

Vash arched toward Jean-Luc as streaks of fire raced through her body.  The heat from his tongue along with the sharp pull of his mouth and the occasional scrape of his teeth had her writhing with raw need.  Just when she thought she could stand no more, his mouth left her breasts to slowly journey down her stomach with a trail of hot, moist kisses.  He placed kisses around her navel before erotically exploring it with his tongue.  His strong hands gently grasped the flare of her hips to hold her still as his lips finally reached their destination.  Closing her eyes, she whimpered softly as she felt him lick and kiss the very core of her desire.  Her hands traveled across his scalp until her fingers tangled themselves in the fringe of grey hair at the nape of his neck as his tongue penetrated, stroked and filled her throbbing wetness.  Straining helplessly under his carnal onslaught, her mind reeled from the sensations of his mouth and tongue possessing her.

Picard used his lips and tongue to take Vash to the very edge and tether her there.  His body grew painfully hard as her ambrosial essence intoxicated him.  As much as he wanted to continue feasting on this sultry goddess, his own desires had risen to an almost excruciating level and his body was demanding release.  Heated blood surged through his veins, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her, pounding himself into her until she cried out his name in ecstasy.  Kissing his way back up her taut, sweat-dampened body, he felt her muscles contract under his questing mouth.  With his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he hovered over her.  Vash's hands slid down his chest to unfasten the waistband of his skirt of tasses.  A groan escaped him as she released his hard length and her delicate hands took up the familiar, teasing rhythm.

The knot of desire in Vash's stomach was so tight that her whole body quivered.  Frustrated and desperate to satisfy the ache building inside her, she panted, "Dammit Picard, just finish the job!"

"Such impatience, ma chere," he chuckled softly at the mild petulance in her voice.  Capturing both of her tiny wrists in one of his large hands, he drew them up above her head to lay against the pillow.  He stretched himself out full-length to cover her body with his own.  The hard length of his body weighed her down, pushing her body into the pillows.

The highly sensitized juncture of her thighs throbbed erotically in response to the pressure of Jean-Luc's hard arousal pushing against her.  She felt her breasts crushed against the muscular expanse of his chest, the coarse hair on his chest tormenting her already-inflamed nipples.  She wanted to surrender herself to him, to feel him deep inside her, filling her completely.  Deciding on another approach, she sensuously arched her hips toward him and pleaded breathlessly, "Ohhh Johnny . . . I'm so hot . . . so wet . . . and you're so hard . . . I can just imagine how good you will feel buried deep inside me."

Releasing the tight rein he had held on his own needs, Picard entered Vash with one powerful thrust, his body completely filling hers.  He heard her cry out as the supple curves of her body twisted, bucking impatiently beneath him.  Her nails dug into the skin on the back of his hand as her tiny hands clutched at his large hand still holding them.  He drove himself deep inside her with long, hard strokes, pulling himself almost completely out before plunging back into her heated depths.  He could feel her body gripping him with each thrust, creating an incredibly tight, erotic, milking sensation throughout his hips.  Releasing her hands, he braced himself against the pillows as he slammed himself forcefully into her, driving himself deep within her.

Vash could feel Jean-Luc drive himself completely inside of her and the heat and fullness of each thrust sent torrents of pleasure over her.  Her hands moved to stroke the tightly sculpted muscles of his arms and back.  She could feel the powerful muscles ripple and bunch with each movement.  She matched him motion for motion as his body violently plummeted into her own.  She was lost in the pleasure consuming her body as the forceful thrusts of his muscular hips stoked and inflamed the explosive force mounting inside her.  The pressure continued to build and she tried to reach for it.  Closing her eyes, she mindlessly dragged her nails over his back as the urgency blossomed.  As her body rocked with overwhelming ecstasy, she arched toward him, screaming out, "Jean-Luc!"

Picard's eyes never left Vash as his body took complete possession of hers.  With her eyes closed, she wore a look of total ecstasy on her delicate features.  Hearing her cry out his name sent an intense rush of arousal through his own body.  He fiercely thrust into her over and over, feeling her quake uncontrollably around him as a second and then a third even stronger release surged through her.  He drove into her relentlessly, giving himself up to the burning pleasure of his body moving in and out of hers.  With one, last, powerful thrust, he held himself buried inside her as his own explosive release ripped through him.  Collapsing onto her, his body was damp and his breathing labored from the physical exertion.  After a long moment, he rolled off to lay on his back next to her.  Propping himself up on one elbow, his eyes swept over Vash's nude body seductively sprawled across the pillows.  She was always so beautiful after lovemaking, with a rosy flush that highlighted her ivory skin as the lush curves of her breasts rose and fell while she tried to catch her breath.

"Oh God, yes. That felt so good," Vash sighed, stretching indulgently and thoroughly spent. As she lounged on the opulent pillows, she wondered if her quivering body and racing pulse would ever calm back down to normal.

"Now, if your voracious appetite for the carnal pleasures of the flesh has been sufficiently sated, my queen, do you think we could manage to make it over to the bed?" he teased raising an eyebrow.

"Johnny," pulling off her armlet and tossing it at her husband, Vash retorted, "Kiss my asp!"

**FINIS**