Author's notes:  Feel free to archive to any pertinent site.
As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them.
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Whoa Nellie's Picard/Vash Romance Fan Fiction website is at:
http://geocities.datacellar.net/TimesSquare/Galaxy/7926/

Whoa Nellie's Sci-Fi Romance Fan Fiction website is at:
http://geocities.datacellar.net/whoa_nellies2000/
 

Spelunk This

 'If it wasn't for me, you'd still be back there sitting in the sun . . . relaxing.'  Archaeology Councilmember Vash remembered her prior assertion as if it were yesterday.  'I'm sure you hated every minute of it.  That kind of vacation isn't for a man like you.  You need excitement.'  Of course when she had flirtatiously made the pithy comment, she had no way of knowing that the handsome Captain Jean-Luc Picard would one day be her husband.  If ever a flip remark had come back to bite her in the ass, that one was it.

 They were spending a few days of shoreleave on the planet of  Castalia.  This particular area of Castalia was known for having subterranean caves that were connected in elaborate mazes.  The underground labyrinths were illuminated by phosphorescent mosses in numerous colors and had underground streams that periodically cascaded into lovely waterfalls.  The mythic-like beauty of the caves drew visitors from all over the quadrant.  Visitors had the choice of camping overnight in the caves or staying in the luxurious, above-ground resort that the Castalians had built nearby.  Vash had suggested that they stay at the resort, exploring the caves at their leisure while enjoying all the comforts civilization had to offer during the evenings.  Jean-Luc had decided, as starship captains were wont to do, that to truly experience the rare beauty of the caves they should camp in the caves, spending the entire shoreleave spelunking.  To Vash, an interstellar field archaeologist who relied heavily on well-honed survivalist skills to do her job, this sounded an awful lot like work.

 'C` est la vie,' she thought to herself glancing around the site Jean-Luc had picked to set up camp for the night.  She had to admit, even to a jaded interstellar traveler like herself,  the surroundings were beautifully ethereal.  Muted yellow and orange phosphorescent mosses filled this particular cave with a soft candlelight effect and the silvery sounds of a small, nearby waterfall could be heard.  Walking over to help him spread out their bed rolls, she continued with their earlier conversation, "Anyway, I told Kennely not to sweat it too much.  To the untrained eye, ancient Romulan markings and ancient Vulcan markings are very similar which makes them difficult to discern from each other."

 "I ran into that difficulty myself when analyzing the individual pieces to the Stone of Gol a few years back," Picard empathized with the problem.

  "Analyzing the Stone of Gol?" Vash stopped and just stared at him.

 Oblivious to his wife's stunned look, Picard continued to spread out the bed roll as he explained, "I had infiltrated a ring of smugglers led by a  man named Arctus Baran . . ."

 "Arctus Baran?"  Vash echoed, dumfounded.

 Pausing he met his wife's eyes, his voice serious, "You knew him?"

 "I knew of him.  You don't survive very long in a career looking under rocks without the good sense to avoid the poisonous snakes that slither out from underneath occasionally.  Baran's bad news, real bad news; at least he was.  Rumor has it he was killed by one of his own smugglers, a man named Galen."  Suddenly, the pieces fell together.  "You studied under Richard Galen and he had died the year before.  "It was you, wasn't it?  You  . . . eliminated Baran."

 For a long moment, Picard held her gaze with his.

 "Thank you for taking out the trash, dear," Vash cooed flashing him a knowing smile as she returned to spreading out her side of  the bed roll.  "I don't suppose you could arrange a little peek at the Stone of Gol for your lovely, archaeologist wife?"

 "The Stone of Gol was a powerful psionic resonator from Vulcan's distant, violent past.  As legend told, it was a dangerous weapon that gave the wielder the ability to kill with a thought.  The artifact had to be destroyed," the starship captain acknowledged with  reluctance.  He groaned inwardly knowing the direction this conversation would be taking.

 "Gee, something sounds awfully familiar here," she replied sardonically.  Snapping her fingers, she added, "Kind of brings to mind the Tox Uthat."

 "Which was a quantum phase inhibitor capable of halting all nuclear fission within a star.  Also a powerful and dangerous weapon, but from the distant future.  Regretfully, it also had to be destroyed."

 "Tell me, Jean-Luc.  What other archaeological artifacts have you 'regretfully' destroyed because you deemed them too dangerous for further study?"  Vash sat leveling an expectant stare at her husband.  Both the Stone of Gol and the Tox Uthat were the stuff of legends.  She couldn't help feeling a little peeved that Jean-Luc, a starship captain, had gotten the opportunity to study the Stone of Gol before it was destroyed and not even a sliver remained for her, the interstellar field archaeologist, to analyze.

 Determinedly not squirming where he sat, Picard thought of two more examples right off the top of his head.  Time to take it like a man as Will often said.  Bracing himself for the impending explosion, he admitted, "Only two; an Iconian gateway and a Promellian battle cruiser."

 "Only an Iconian gateway and a Promellian battle cruiser?" she huffed.  "The Midas touch supposedly turned things to gold.  It seems the Picard touch blows up gold - archaeological gold that is.  You do realize any one of those items would be the find of a lifetime for an archaeologist."

 "Of course I realize that.  However, the Iconian gateway worked just as the legend claimed and was about to fall into Romulan hands.  As much as I would have loved to have preserved it for study, I could not risk the Romulans gaining control of it.  The risk to Federation security was too high.  The Promellian battle cruiser was part of ancient boobytrap.  A boobytrap that the Enterprise D, the flagship of the fleet, only narrowly escaped."

 "Okay, I'll spot you the Iconian gateway, but not the Promellian battle cruiser.  Haven't you boys ever heard of a warning buoy.  Someone else, say a trained interstellar field archaeologist, may have been able to defuse said ancient boobytrap.  Just a thought.  So what other archaeological treasures have you gotten to play with.  The Shroud of Turin perhaps.  No, that's impossible.  That treasure still exists."

 With a melodramatic grunt, Picard pantomimed pulling a knife from his back and offered it to his wife teasing, "This yours, lovely lady?  Maybe you'd like to twist it some more."

 "You know, it's comments like those that lead our friends to believe you truly enjoy these kinds of beatings," she quipped.

 "It seems I cannot sleep through the night without a good beating," he chuckled, sitting down on his side of the bedroll.  With a gleam in his eye, he added,  "That's probably why we get along so well."

 "You call this getting along?" she taunted seductively.

 Looking up at her, he gave the expected retort, "We don't get along.  We're not getting along.  If you want to believe we're not getting along that's fine . . ."

 Vash braced her hands on the masculine slope of his shoulders to she swung her leg over and sit down, straddling his lap.  His lips were firm but pliant as she seized them with her own in a deep passionate  kiss cutting him off in mid-sentence.

 Picard immediately felt his body respond to the warmth of her lush lips crushed against his.  Under his hips, rapidly beginning to throb with anticipation, the cave floor was somewhat unyielding beneath the bed roll.  His hands grasped the feminine curve of her hips pulling her tightly against him surreptitiously adjusting her weight as he deepened the kiss, his tongue pursuing hers back into her mouth.  No thought was needed, his body reacting on impulse to remove the layers of clothing separating him from her lithe body.

 Her pulse quickened as his tongue plundered her mouth.  The course rasp of his tongue along the sensitive depths sending heated waves of arousal washing over her.  Becoming cognizant of her husband deftly unfastening the bottom buttons on her shirt, she broke the kiss.  Breathless, her voice was tinged with surprise and amusement, "Here?"

 "Why not?  I've set the proximity alert on my tricorder to let us know if anyone comes within a kilometer of our position."  He continued to unbutton his way up her shirt.  He slipped her shirt down baring the alabaster perfection of her shoulders.  "I can't think of anything else I'd rather do.  Can you?"

 "Oh my, the Federation's flagship captain does become rather randy when he's bored and spending the night in a cave," she cooed, goosebumps puckering the skin now exposed to the cool, damp air of the cave.

 "Not boredom, chere," he finally succeeded in stripping her shirt off her.  "Do you know what I'm thinking about right now?" he asked.  His mouth laid a moist trail of kisses across her bared shoulder, his deep baritone reverberating against her skin.

 Her head dropped back, baring her throat to the heated onslaught of his mouth.  She shifted against the hard bulge under her thighs.  "I have a pretty good guess."

 "A particular night spent in a certain cave on Risa with an outrageous archaeologist who had been trouble from the moment I first laid eyes on her," he murmured, his mouth finding the pulse point just below her ear.

 "Ohhh  . . . That's dirty pool," Vash moaned softly as he teased the spot that always drove her to distraction.

 "What is, ma petite, reminding you about the first time I made love to you or doing this?" he asked, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips and flicking this tongue quickly against the sensitive spot.  "I had planned to be the perfect officer and gentleman.  However, this insatiable nymph dragged me away from civilization under the ruse of searching for a hidden treasure she had already found.  Once we were alone, under false pretenses, she revealed her true intent -- a tawdry excursion to find jamaharon."

 "Twice," she pointed out smugly.

 Reasoning that Vash's perfectly shaped derriere was better padded for comfort against the hard cave floor, Picard swiftly reversed their positions.  He stripped the rest of her clothes from her and wasted no time adding his own to the pile.  With a contented sigh, he settled between her welcoming thighs.

 "Is this change in position some sort of insinuation about my voluptuous curves?" Vash asked, wriggling in an attempt to find a tenable position.  Jean-Luc was much more comfortable as a mattress than he was a blanket.

 Managing an innocent, seductive smile he gave her his best bedroom whisper.  "Just trying to expedite matters.  I'm getting a little impatient."

 "So I can feel," she gasped, feeling the evidence of his impatience press against her intimately.  Her small hands grasped his broad shoulders, anticipating his body driving deeply into hers, filling her completely.  Instead, she felt him clumsily adjusting his position.  The very uncharacteristic awkwardness caused her to raise an amused eyebrow. "Problem?"

 "Now I know we know how to do this.  Moreover, we know how to do this in this very setting,"  he retorted in a determined chuckle, having shifted enough that a stray pebble was no longer digging into his knee.  He entered her with one thrust gliding easily into her, immensely gratified by her impassioned moan as her head fell back and her hands gripped his shoulders.

 Awkwardly at first her body began moving, finally settling into rhythm with his.  She arched her hips in a fruitless effort to move a pebble digging into the tender skin of her back end only to be rewarded by Jean-Luc groaning and increasing the pace.  Doing her best to ignore the distraction, she wound her arms tighter around his neck.  His body felt so good, filling her completely when the underside of her thigh began to itch from rubbing against the blanket.  Not really wanting Jean-Luc to stop, she shifted her legs higher around his waist to surreptitiously reach down with her hand to locate the source of the annoyance and scratch it.  The itch temporarily abated, she tried to get back into the moment.  He was getting close, his breathing was coming more raggedly and she could tell he was controlling himself until she caught up.  Employing their mutually understood signal, she grabbed his earlobe in her teeth and pulled, a silent 'just make it so already'.

 With one deep, final thrust, Picard erupted in her with a grunt of satisfaction.  Collapsing onto Vash, he felt her small hands traveling over the muscles of his back.  With a rueful chuckle, he rolled off to lie on his back next to her.  "All right, so the earth didn't move."

 "Mon cher capitaine, the pebbles digging into my ass didn't even move," she bantered back playfully.

 "I don't remember any of these little problems plaguing us that first night on Risa," he reminisced wistfully.

 "That's because it was a first night filled with all the intense passion of discovery."  She sat up and gathered her clothes.

 "And . . ." he prompted.

 Vash leaned over on her elbow, reaching out with her other hand to idly trace designs with a fingertip through the coarse hair on the muscular expanse of his chest.  "I'll admit there was an undeniable thrill about bedding the captain of a Federation starship."

 "I'm still the captain of a Federation starship," he pointed out dryly.

 "Yeah, but I'm used to it now."

 "Oh, I see.  You do realize I won't always be a starship captain."  Sitting up, he located his own clothes.

 "Of course," she chirped.  Pulling her shirt on over her head, her tone became lascivious as she purred, "Admiral."

 Picard finished redressing and lay back down on the bed roll.  With a chuckled, he started to quote.  "Behind every successful man . . ."

 "I actually prefer on top," Vash giggled moving to straddle his body and lie down against the muscular expanse of his chest.

 "Comfy?" he teased as she snuggled into him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

 "Seeing as you have chosen for us to spend our shore leave under such primitive conditions, the least you could do is provide your dainty, genteel wife a suitable mattress," she retorted.

 "As you wish."  He pulled a blanket over them before wrapping his arms around her.

 Nestled in his strong embrace, Vash luxuriated in the comforting warmth and masculine scent of his body.  She sleepily murmured into his shoulder, "Je t' aime, Jean-Luc."

 "Je t' aime."  Savoring the sweet scent that always lingered in her silky hair, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Bon nuit, ma petite."

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

 It was late in the afternoon when Vash and Picard made their way up a slight incline from a long passage and emerged into another larger cavern.  Handing her a canteen, he said, "There should be a passage at the far end of this chamber that will lead us toward the surface where we can head to the second network of caves."

 Vash used a long drink of water to help her choke down her 'Yeah, right, sure.' retort.  Jean-Luc had insisted on charting out their path using only traditional plans and section diagrams instead of tricorders and sensor readings from the Enterprise.  She was convinced that this method had led them to take the most laborious path possible through the beautiful caves.  He was right about the passage at the far end of the cave; unfortunately, it was blocked by what appeared to be a very recent rock slide.  Without a word, she pulled the communicator from her pocket and held it out to him.

 "This hardly necessitates an emergency beam-out."  He took off his own backpack and began to rummage through it.

 "If you say so."  She placed the communicator down on a large rock next to him.  Her eyebrow shot up as he pulled a small type one phaser out of his bag and set it on it's lowest stun setting.  "Would you care to explain how tricorders and sensor readings are cheating the experience while *that* isn't?"

 "You might want to stand back in the alcove over there to avoid the dust and debris."  He ignored her comment and took careful aim, firing at the blockage.  A second later he was diving behind the large rock next to him for cover as the single phaser bolt ricocheted through the cave.  The commotion ended in a sickening blast of sparks as the bolt hit the communicator frying its circuitry.

 "Whoa -- nice shootin Tex," Vash drawled from the safety of the alcove.

 "I didn't know the damn rocks would return fire," he grumbled getting up and dusting himself off.

 Vash stepped out of the alcove holding her tricorder.  She showed him the readings.  "As you can see, the metal composition in most of these rocks easily deflects a phaser bolt on all but the highest settings which, of course, would result in the destruction of the entire cave system.  Since you've just disintegrated our only communicator, I would respectfully request that you not do that.  A disruptor would work;  however, seeing as you're a Starfleet officer I doubt you're packing one of those."

 "Not bloody likely."  He returned the phaser and the destroyed communicator to his backback.  Making his way over to the rock slide, he started removing the rocks by hand.

 "Jean-Luc, I have the Enterprise's sensor readings downloaded on the tricorder.  We could just use that to find an alternate route," Vash offered.

 "It's not necessary to use the tricorder when it really won't take that much time to clear these out of the way," he gestured to the rockslide.

 "In other words, you'd rather dig us out by hand than admit you're wrong?"  She regarded him incredulously.

 "I recognize it may not be our easiest course of action . . ." he began.

 "All I want you to do is admit you're wrong," Vash cut him off.

 "It's possible my decision is being influenced by my enthusiasm for . . ." he tried again, standing up to face her.

 "No, no.  That's not it."  Vash shook her head as she rolled her eyes.  "Can't you just say you are wrong?"

 "I'll acknowledge this is not the most right I've ever been."

 "Ohhh . . . you are unbelievable!  I have spent the past two days sleeping on an ....well, okay you, and wandering around in caves for no other reason than to look at the very pretty moss.  While this may constitute fun for you, this is what I do for a living.  Now you want me to move heavy objects for no reason other than testosterone poisoning.  I have had enough of playing Louis to your Clark."  She readjusted the tricorder.  "We will retrace our steps back down the passage to the last cavern and take the passage on the west side which will lead us to the surface."

 "That's not what I would call challenging survival skills,"  he replied.

 "Any time you want to match your survival skills to mine, bring it on."  Vash moved to stand toe to toe with her husband.  "Think very carefully, soldier.  Is that where you really want to go?"

 "Professor Picard, you are a cold-blooded woman," he teased raising his hands in capitulation.   Strapping on his backpack, he gestured back the way they had come.  "Ladies first."

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

 It was dusk when Vash and Picard emerged from the caves into a beautifully landscaped park.  In the distance,  the planet's two moons could be seen rising over the roof of a sprawling, elegant structure.  Coming up behind his wife, Picard remarked, "That looks suspiciously like the resort."

 "Ohhh . . . can't get anything past you Starfleet types," she quipped before setting off across the gardens toward the building.

 As the pair entered the exquisite front lobby of the resort, Chell, the resort's manager, approached them.  The portly Bolian greeted them enthusiastically.  "Captain and Mrs. Picard, I trust you enjoyed your tour of the caves."

 "The reports of their breathtaking magnificence doesn't do them justice," Vash smiled graciously.

 "I'm glad you enjoyed them.  If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room," Chell offered.

 "Of course,  thank you," Vash replied.

 As they followed the Bolian up a grand staircase, Picard whispered in Vash's ear, "am I to assume this means my lovely wife is done spelunking this trip?"

 "Ohhh . . . I'm *so* done."

 "Here we are."  Chell opened the door for the couple and followed them into the room.  "This is one of our finest suites with a fire place, a perfect view of the resort's gardens from the terrace and the spacious bathroom has an oversized soaker bathtub along with a separate combination sonic - water shower."

 "It's perfect."  Vash set down her backpack next to one of the two overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace and admired the room.

 "Wonderful.  I'll leave you to settle in then.  A member of my staff will bring your evening meal up to you shortly."  The resort manager started to leave but turned around briefly remembering one final item.  "Oh . . . and Commander Data saw to it personally that all of your bags were placed in the room."

 "Mr. Data is a very efficient officer," Picard replied with a polite smile.  After shutting the door behind Chell, he turned to Vash adding with a chuckle, "I'm just not quite sure who he's working for."

 "I would say he's demonstrated a crystal clear understanding of the chain of command."  Vash sat down in one of the chairs to take off her hiking boots.

 Setting his backpack down next to hers, Picard found himself drawn to the magnificent fireplace and knelt down in front of it.  "Let's see about getting a nice fire going."

 Vash watched for a moment as Jean-Luc seemed to search for matches then something caught her attention.  She moved behind him laying her hand on his shoulder.  When he leaned back to look at her she reached up and activated a control nestled on the side of the mantle.  A roaring fire blazed in the fire place.  "Voila`."

 "That's cheating."

 "That's the whole point . . . Maurice."  Vash took great delight in the look Jean-Luc shot her upon hearing his father's name.  "Aunt Adele is always saying that you are your father's son."

 "Merde," he grumbled realizing he had indeed been exhibiting his father's proclivity for the traditional.  With an impish sparkle in her eye, Vash patted his shoulder before walking toward bed.

 "Everything in this room is so luxurious.  From the carpet to the ceiling, it's all soft and lush."  Vash flopped backward onto the enormous bed allowing herself to sink into the sumptuous bedding.  The rich coffee color of the bedding matched the deeply-piled carpet.  A plump comforter was turned down to show matching sheets and collection of voluminous pillows at the head of the bed.  "I bet this entire place was designed by a woman who had spent one too many nights in those caves."

 Standing back up, he turned to face her.  "It's obvious this little piece of opulence was prearranged and that we were expected by the resort's manager."

 "I made the arrangements by subspace a few days before the Enterprise entered orbit." Vash stood up and began to undo each button on her shirt.

 Predictably, the captain's pulse sped up as his mischievous wife shed her clothes.  His gaze traveled over the nymph standing before him now clad only in matching brassiere and panties of white Venetian lace.  His eyes drank in the shapely length of her legs and the way the lush curves of her breasts appeared to overwhelm their confines.

 "Listen for room service."  Vash gestured at her nearly-naked body.  "This little piece is going to enjoy a bit of decadence.  There is a long, hot, bubble bath in that giant tub with my name on it."

 Vash disappeared into the bathroom carrying a length of amethyst colored satin Picard assumed was a new negligee.  At the muffled sound of water running, he found himself tempted to follow her.  He could picture her reclining in a large tub nearly overflowing with bubbles a tranquil smile gracing her sensuous lips.  His throat ached with longing imagining a droplet of water falling from her wet hair to run down her swan-like neck and past the feminine curve of her shoulders to disappear into the luxuriant, white foam lapping at the top curves of her breasts.  She would stretch with an indulgent sigh lifting one long, shapely leg out of the water to watch the bubbles sliding down her smooth skin before repeating the procedure with the other leg.

 The captain was startled out of his reverie by a sharp rap at the door.  Within moments of opening the door, a formal, gourmet dinner for two had been arranged on the small dining table.

 A short time later, Vash appeared in the bathroom doorway.  The rich, jewel-toned satin of her full-length negligee skimmed her curves to fall into sweeping folds around her legs.  A sumptuous amount of her décolletage' spilled over the plunging scoop neckline, only thin spaghetti straps preventing the rest from escaping.  She leisurely strolled toward where Jean-Luc stood next to the table, enjoying the feel of the smooth satin of her negligee's full skirt swirling around her legs with each step.  "Good.  I see dinner has arrived."

 "Yes," he nodded holding her chair for her.  "Shall we?"

 "Thank you, darling," she replied as she took her seat.

 "This is new," sitting down across the table from her, he indicated her negligee.  "I must admit it's very flattering and perfectly suited to our current surroundings.  Having packed with camping in mind, I find I'm somewhat at a disadvantage."

 "Not at all.  I packed your burgundy velvet smoking jacket with the grey silk trim and matching grey silk pajama trousers in your overnight bag . . . which is just over there."  Vash gestured toward the far side of the large bed.  "After dinner you can shower, shave, and change for bed.  Now, eat before your dinner gets cold."

 Lifting the cover from the dish in front of him, Picard found one of his favorite meals.  "Risotto primavera.  You arranged for this magnificent suite,  packed both our bags, and even ordered one of my favorite meals.  When you prepared this covert plan B for our holiday, you didn't miss a single detail."

 "I'm the captain's wife.  It's part of the job description."

 Later, having showered and shaved, Picard watched his wife getting ready to settle into bed for the night.  He looked out into the night sky at the black outline of the mountain range where the caves were.  "I thought we had decided to spend our time here in the caves," he complained.

 "You decided, Mon Capitaine.  I merely indulged the whim for a short time.  If you'd rather spend tonight in a cold damp cave . . . well, far be it from me to keep you here."  Vash gazed at Jean-Luc coquettishly through her lashes.  The smoking jacket's grey silk belt was tied tightly at the waist showing off his perfect masculine shape.  The dark, burgundy velvet accented the broad expanse of his shoulders and chest.  The grey trim brought out the color of his eyes and the closely trimmed hair at his temples.  The open V of the grey silk collar allowed for a tempting view of his chest.  Pulling a favorite erotic toy out from her overnight bag, she tossed it onto the bed.  She gracefully stretched out on the bed like Cleopatra, the satin of her nightgown softly veiling her feminine silhouette.  "Go ahead  . . . enjoy another night in the caves.  'Bob' and I will be just fine here on our own."

 An image flashed through Picard's mind of Vash seductively sprawled nude across their bed with her head thrown back and her entire body writhing against the comforter in pleasure.  His body tightened growing painfully hard from the unbidden and incredibly erotic memory of his wife 'entertaining' herself, as she called it.  Returning to the present, his eyes hungrily raked over the enticing curves of the siren lounging across the bed.  Slowly, purposely, he stalked toward her.  In a voice rough with lust, he retorted, "You know damn well there's no way I'd even make it to the door with that thought in my head."

 The intense heat from his desire-hardened, grey eyes coursed over her entire body like it were an actual physical caress.  With every step he took toward her, the intensity built.  When he reached the side of the bed she rolled up onto her knees and brought her hands up, splaying them across his chest.  She could feel the unyielding muscular expanse of his chest through the velvet.  She dropped her hands down and untied the belt to his smoking jacket.  Still gripping the belt in her hands, she taunted in a low seductive voice, "then stay here with me . . . and I'll show you why the word mattress is an essential component of the term mattress mambo."

 He reached up and lightly ran a thumb over the lush fullness of her lower lip admonishing with gentle exasperation, "Vash, are you planning to use your feminine wiles and sexual favors as leverage with me for the rest of our lives?"

 "Pretty much," she cooed slipping her hands beneath his jacket.  Her small hands traversed slowly up his torso between the velvet and the corded muscles of his chest.  Opening the jacket as she went, her hands traveled up to push it off the masculine slope of his shoulders.  She dropped the jacket to the floor marveling at the tightly leashed strength contained in the firm planes of his sculpted body.  The rosy crests of her breasts hardened, pushing against her gown as a shiver of anticipation raced through her.  With her hands braced on his broad shoulders, she molded herself against his hard lean body.  Her breasts crushed up against the expanse of his chest, her taut nipples grazing solid muscle sending streaks of desire through her.  Leaning into nibble on the sensitive spot just below his ear, she drank in the clean scent of his aftershave while nuzzling his neck.  Gently tugging on his earlobe with her teeth, she inquired playfully, "Is it working?"

 Picard's mouth searched out and found hers, crushing her lips beneath his in a ravenous kiss.   Strong hands forced her lithe frame even tighter against his already painfully hard body and tumbled them onto the bed.  His weight pressed her into the soft bedding as he covered her body with his own.  Swirling across the full red lips, his tongue coaxed them open to plunder the depths of her mouth.  He slid his mouth from hers to explore the soft skin of her neck.  Reaching the pulse point just below her ear, he murmured, "What do you think?"  The supple curves of her satin-covered silhouette squirmed sinuously beneath him, a gasp of warm air carried her response to his ears with a soft, "Oh yes."  He drew his hands up her body with a tantalizingly light touch, stopping to caress her full breasts through the negligee.  His thumbs drew leisurely circles around her nipples, the stiff, darkened crests visibly straining against the flimsy fabric.  He licked at her creamy skin before gingerly taking the thin strap of her negligee in his teeth and pulling it down her shoulder.  Repeating the process with the other strap, his hands took over to slowly slide the gown from her body.  Anticipating the taste of her sweetness, his mouth slowly laid a heated trail of kisses down the silken expanse of her skin to the full curves of her breasts.  The swell of her breasts required his tongue's careful attention before his mouth moved to claim one of the hardened nipples.  He swirled his tongue over the taut peak before suckling strongly.

 Streaks of fire raced through Vash's body from the sensitive crests.  The heat from his tongue along with the sharp pull of his mouth and the occasional scrape of his teeth had her writhing in desperation.  Just when she thought she could stand no more, his mouth left her breast to slowly journey down her stomach with hot, moist kisses.  Pulsing uncontrollably and dripping wet with unsatisfied need, her entire body felt as if it were made of liquid flames.  Strong hands gently grasping the flare of her hips anchored her to the bed when the heat of his mouth closed over its destination.  Closing her eyes, she could only whimper softly, held firmly under his erotic torment.  Her hands reached blindly for him, finding and tangling themselves in the fringe of grey hair at the nape of his neck, begging for him to release her but pulling him closer in an unspoken plea for more.  Straining helplessly under his carnal onslaught, her mind reeled from the sensations of his mouth and tongue possessing her.

 Intoxicated by her scent and taste, his mouth was relentlessly taking her to the peak of ecstasy.   He felt her body shudder around him and she threw her head back, crying out his name.  She began whimpering, mindlessly twisting in his grasp as his tongue redoubled its assault on her senses.  His tongue flicked and stroked her, alternately plunging inside to caress the still-trembling depths.  His merciless efforts brought a second, even stronger, release, right on the heels of the first.  Kissing his way back up her taut, sweat-dampened body, he felt her muscles contract under his questing mouth.

 Vash collapsed back against the soft bedding, trying to catch her breath as spasms continued to race through her body.  The rasp of his tongue along her sensitive skin sent aftershocks through her as his mouth moved back up her body.   His mouth left her and her eyes fluttered open to find him hovering over her.  Her gaze followed her hands as they traveled upward along his bare arms, lingering on the solid, bulging biceps.  The muscular wall of his chest was enhanced by rippling pectorals and coarse chest hair.  She craved the feeling of his body deep inside hers.  Her hands returning to rest on his shoulders, her eyes locked with his as she pleaded breathlessly, "Oh please . . . Jean-Luc . . . take me now. . . I want you inside me."

 "Such impatience, Madame, the night is young and if I recall correctly you suggested we dance," Picard teased in a rich, bedroom baritone.  Moving one hand to rest on her thigh, he slowly slid it up the damp smooth skin of her quivering inner thigh.  She inhaled sharply, her hips bucking against his hand as his fingers brushed the very core of her need.  Not sure who he was torturing more, he held his hard, throbbing arousal against the sensitive, pulsating juncture of her thighs and rubbed against her.  The way her body clenched and bucked at the sweet torment told him she was on the threshold once again.  He pushed aside the throbbing demands of his own body determined to have her abandon herself to the pleasure she was experiencing.

 Jean-Luc was so close to where she needed him so desperately.  Her hips strained to capture him, but he deftly eluded her, swirling the tip of his hardness along the skin of her inner thighs.  Vash bit her lower lip as the fierce needs his tantalizing ministrations were building threatened to overwhelm her.  She gasped in relief when he returned his attentions to the glistening, throbbing juncture.  Her fingers dug into the hard muscles of his shoulder in the wake of another overpowering release which sent wave after wave of ecstasy coursing through her.  Finally, the muscular length of his body stretched out to cover her own and his strong arms braced on either side of her shoulders.  Vash's arms encircled his neck, her lips finding and pulling his tongue into her mouth, sucking it in a taunting imitation of what they both wanted.  His body entered her with one powerful thrust, gliding easily into her heated depths.  Almost immediately she wanted to scream in frustration.  He was taking her with slow methodical pace, his body pulling almost completely out before plunging sharply back, burying himself within her.  She arched helplessly into his movements, trying to quicken the pace.  The long, hard strokes brought delicious sensations, but the leisurely pace was tormenting her.  The heat and fullness of each thrust sent torrents of intense sensations flooding over her.

 Picard gradually increased the rhythm and she matched his movements.  A thin sheen of perspiration covered his body as he struggled to keep from losing himself to the burning pleasure of her body moving in perfect synchronization with his own.  He broke the kiss and raised up slightly, his hands adjusting their position on the mattress.  One hand came in to contact with Vash's erotic toy which had been left on the bed.  Having a deliciously devious idea, he palmed the small device.  He pulled back just far enough to flip her over onto her stomach.  Kneeling behind her, he grasped her around the waist with his free hand and gently pulled her hips up toward him forcing her to rise to her knees.  Repositioning himself slightly, he drove himself deep into her from behind.  He gave into his need, taking her with total abandon.  He slammed himself into her forcefully, his hand pulling her hips to his to drive himself even deeper.  The cadence became one of furious intensity as his body demanded total surrender from hers.  Activating the small device in his other hand, he reached under her using the gizmo to dramatically add to the conflagration about to consume her.

 "Oh shit!" Vash bucked up, pushing herself into his driving thrusts and the teasing toy.  The hand Jean-Luc had on her hip slid up to cup one of her breasts, his muscular arm holding her tightly against the expanse of his chest.  Her head rolled back onto his shoulder as the skillful fingers of one hand toyed with the taut nipple of her breast and the plaything tormented the center of her desire.  The pressure mounting inside her at last detonated in a fulminating crescendo.  With a primal scream, Vash entire body arched upward racked with tremors.

 Picard felt her body gripping him tightly in a powerful orgasm and a deluge broke loose in his own body.  He made one, final, powerful thrust, holding himself deep inside her, as his own explosive release consumed him.  As he tried to catch his breath, he enjoyed the last few tremors of pleasure.  He lowered them both down onto the bed and settled her against his chest, facing him.  Blissfully content, he gazed down at her and counted the few seconds that passed before she started to regain her senses.

 "Oh God, Oh my God, Oh God," Vash panted.  Her breathing was labored and spasms still coursed through her trembling body.  Slowly opening her eyes, she looked up to see Jean-Luc smiling down at her, appearing insufferably satisfied.   "You should never be allowed to play with *my* toys."

 "Should I assume the earth moved that time?"

 Giving in to temptation, she reached around to spank his bare backside.  "Spelunk this, mon capitaine."

 "You do not spelunk such an archaeological treasure," he murmured with a wry grin.  "You explore it, slowly, thoroughly and methodically over and over and over..."

 "Archaeological treasure, huh?  Should I be worried about the effects of the Picard touch?"

**FINIS **