3 comments/ 32299 views/ 4 favorites Star Trek TNG: Crusher's Conspiracy By: Nigel Debonnaire The action of this story takes place immediately after the conclusion of Star Trek: Nemesis, and includes material from the deleted scenes. Deanna Troi's face leapt to a startled expression on the vidcom monitor. It turned quickly into a smirk: "Well Beverly, I see that you've been getting ready for a Betazoid wedding." Beverly Crusher shook her red hair slightly over her bare shoulders and stood up tall. Facing her friend's image with pride, she replied: "And why shouldn't I? I think that I'm in as good shape as anyone to appear nude in public." "You are in stunning shape for a woman of any age. Heads will turn, and I might get jealous if it weren't for the millennia I've waited for Will to get around to making a commitment." Her brow furrowed slightly: "Do you always answer your calls in the nude?" "No, I made sure that it was you before I accepted the call. How's life on the Titan shaping up." "We're going to the Neutral Zone; it should be an exciting mission. The crew seems to be a good one, and Will is getting used to his staff officers and bridge crew. The facilities here aren't what they are on the Enterprise, but they're quite nice. We're settling into the new quarters fairly well. How about your new digs?" "It's beautiful and so peaceful, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and Starfleet headquarters. I love it here, and there's enough privacy to get away with anything. I'll need this place; the staff at Starfleet medical full of energetic young doctors running me ragged with their questions and their demands." "But you love it." "But I love it." Beverly smiled and stretched back with her hands clasped over her head,, pulling her breasts up while pushing her pelvis out. "Is there a reason you called tonight; did you just want to gab?" Deanna became more business like: "No, it's about the psychological study you wanted me to do. About an individual's likely reactions to sudden stress to a particular scenario you presented." "Yes, tell me." Beverly stood up straight, furrowed her eyebrows, and bit her lip as she waited for her friend's report. One red nailed bare foot patted the carpeted floor in anxiety. "Well, the subject has proven exceptionally adaptable over the years to new and different situations, but you knew that already. Although the subject has shown great discomfort in situations such as you propose, and has struggled in similar situations when they have arisen, the subject has mellowed over the years, is unlikely to be angered for more than six hours, and is likely to embrace the scenario you propose in time. However, placing the subject in the situation without their knowledge or consent as you propose is difficult to justify." "You mean that I'm probably right, but I shouldn't do it?" A tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying. Presenting someone a fait accompli like this is unfair and manipulative. Yes, I know you have experience with the subject that I don't, but this is still presumptuous. Trying talking it out: you may get what you want anyway, and it's much easier to deal with emotionally for everyone." Beverly shook her head. "I know the subject too well, and I know how the subject will respond to a direct presentation of the proposal. It would be rejected without much consideration. I also know that this is what the subject longs for in life, but would never pursue it on their own or allow another to pursue it on their behalf. This is the only way I can do it, Deanna. Even though it means a conspiracy against the Captain." Deanna looked at her friend with pleading eyes: "You are probably right, but this isn't the way to do it." "I wish I didn't have to do it this way, but I can't see any alternative. No else can ever know what I'm doing until everything is over, or it will never happen, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life." Another two tears stole down her ivory cheeks. "I don't feel good about this, I don't feel good about this at all. You may be confusing your particular desires with the subject's and that's always dangerous. But you may be right, and this may be what this subject wants after all. Even though I think you shouldn't do this, you are my friend Beverly, and my best wishes go with you always. I'll be there for you." A tear crept from Deanna's eye. A deep breath and short expulsion cleared Beverly's gloom. "That's a comfort knowing with you and Will cavorting around the galaxy," she observed snidely. Deanna's gloom broke with a quick laugh. "I'm glad that your Betazoid wedding is less than a month away." "Me, too, or else things could get a little embarrassing." "Are you?" "Yes, about a month along." "How's Will taking it?" "Like you'd imagine; proud as a peacock. It's tough to get the twinkle out of his eye or the smile off his face." "Well, congratulations, Deanna. I'm so happy for you." Deanna beamed and then the smile faded. "I wish I could say the same." The screen went blank, and Beverly made sure that any incoming calls were diverted unless Wesley called, which she didn't expect considering the portion of space he was in. She turned to regard herself in the full length mirror: under the mane of luxurious hair were two bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, pert breasts, thin waist, subtly curved hips and dancer's legs. She smiled at herself: "And it's all me. Beverly, you've never had to bodysculpt or rub out a wrinkle. You're too lucky." Going to her closet, she chose her outfit for the evening, and began her preparations for her date. ******************* Captain Jean-Luc Picard regarded Captain William Riker's visage with its wry smirk. Jean-Luc shook his head in mirth: "That's something I'm going to miss about you, Will. You set up poor First Officer Madden to embarrass himself that day on the bridge splendidly. It was all I could do to keep my laughing out loud at his predicament myself." Will arched an eyebrow in disbelief: "Captain, I never thought you especially appreciated my practical jokes or my sense of humor. Why the sudden change?" "Will, I'm not your captain anymore, and you're captain of Titan now. You may call me Jean-Luc." "All right, Jean-Luc. Are you going soft in your old age?" Jean-Luc settled himself and looked around. "It's not appropriate for a Captain to laugh at his crew members too much, even if they get caught in silly situations. It's bad for that crewmember's morale, and it can set the wrong tone for your relationship with that crewmember. If I had laughed at Engineer Barclay over the years, he may have never responded to Deanna's positive self-image therapy and he may not be where he is today. You have to support your people, Will, and try to laugh at them after they leave the room. That is absolutely my last pearl of wisdom for your Captain's manual." "Thank you, Captain. See you at the wedding on Betazed." "I'll be there with bells on, figuratively speaking. The refit is almost done and we're underway tomorrow." He looked at the chronometer. "And now I've got to go to the transporter room to welcome some old friends coming on board to balance all the departures: Lieutenant Commander Miles O'Brien and family." "He's been promoted? That's wonderful. What's his new job?" "Executive Officer. Keiko is going back to work in the arboretum, and the kids are going to be in the school. I hear that they've developed a special interest in archeology, and I hope that we'll have some time to do some digging in the Deneb sector." Riker gave Picard two arched eyebrows. "Is that really you, Jean-Luc? First, you join our poker games, much to my chagrin, then you turn out to have a crazy sense of humor after all, and now you've even shown enthusiasm for being around children, even teaching a class for them, which you've never done as long as I've known you. Did you get reprogrammed while I wasn't watching?" Jean-Luc Picard gave an easy laugh. "I've always been a bit too serious, too driven. I've let myself get lost in my fears. I think Wesley was the start: it's hard for me to see him and not be as proud of him as I would my own son. Don't say that I'm changing or getting soft in my old age, Will. I'm growing: I'm not getting older, I'm getting better." Will Riker gave him a sharp salute. "Good for you, Cap–Jean-Luc. I'll see you at the wedding next month on Betazed.." Picard welcomed the O'Briens warmly and led them to their new quarters personally. Two hours later, wearing an informal brown wrap around shirt and slacks, he returned to greet Dr. Beverly Crusher. She wore a black strapless dress with a short skirt, a medium sized matching handbag, flesh colored hose, pearl earrings and high heels. They gave each other air kisses, cheek to cheek, then he offered her his arm to escort her through the hallway.. "Sorry I couldn't make it down to the dance a couple of weeks ago. Things just got too busy up here and I couldn't get away." Beverly gave him a sly smile. "Dinner in the Captain's Quarters the night before departure will more than make up for it. We can go dancing in the Holodeck later if you'd like." "Sure." The pair strolled through the hallways, oblivious to the people around them, grinning like teenagers. ******************* Keiko strode into the bedroom and threw a pillow at Miles. "What do you mean that you're taking Night Shift tonight? This is the first time we've had alone for two weeks, our first night back on the Enterprise for years. Why do you have to spend the night on the bridge? We're in Earth orbit, can't one of the junior staff do it?" Miles walked over, took her arm and drew her close to whisper in her ear: "The Doctor wanted me to be on the bridge tonight. I can't talk about it." Keiko looked rebellious. "It's part of the promotion; new rank, new obligations. Trust me, honey, please. It'll give me time to get reacquainted with the ship as well, and Nog is going to be at the helm. Honey, we'll have five years together here, you and me, and the Holodeck to keep the kids occupied anytime we want." Molly's voice chimed from the next room. "Yoichi and I are going down to the Holodeck to ski the Alps. Back later, love ya'." Keiko shouted, "Did you eat supper?" "Yes, mom, we had some anchovy and shittake Vulcan pizza and some Romulan ale," Yoichi replied. His parents gave him a startled outburst. "Just playing with ya'. We really had goat's milk. Bye." "Be careful, kids. I don't want you in Sickbay with a broken leg your first night here,." Miles called out. The door hissed cut off his warning behind them. Keiko subsided after a moment and relaxed. "Well, all right I guess. That's what I get for marrying a Starfleet officer. But you're going to pay me back, mister, big time." He gave her a peck on the cheek, before the door hissed open for him. "Yes, dear." ********************** The Mozart Clarinet Quintet wafted from the sound system as Jean-Luc and Beverly approached the end of their meal. They sat sipping a clear liqueur at the small, clear topped table across from each other, the remains of a elegant meal before them. Her long legs were crossed so her shoeless red painted toes could accidently brush his knee on occasion. Their sparkling eyes were fixed on each other's as they savored the spirits and the music. "Jean-Luc, you are full of surprises after all these years. I don't believe I've ever had a better Beef Wellington and asparagus; the escargot, salad, sorbet and chocolate mousse were superb as well. Mousse would have sent Deanna into bliss." "Thanks. I'm a little rusty in the kitchen, but it's nice to be able to please an old friend." Beverly put down her glass and sat up straight. "You, a chef? I don't believe it. Where have you been hiding that talent?" Jean-Luc sipped his drink unperturbed. "After I had my first artificial heart implant, my doctors thought I needed a hobby to give me some perspective that wasn't so competitive but would give me a creative outlet and some discipline. So I spent a year at the Cordon Bleu. Haven't had much chance to practice my skills over the years, but I made a resolution to recover that part of me during this voyage." She tossed her head, rolling her eyes, and took a big slug of her liqueur. "All right, but I bet you entered a cooking competition or two before you went back on duty." "Well, yes. I came up with a recipe for Centaurian rhino that won a gold medal from the Cultural Institute; they still serve it at the Bistro Extraterrestriel in Paris, and Ben Sisko's father puts it on the menu from time to time at his restaurant in New Orleans." She refilled her glass and sat back, crossing her legs crisply and giving him a playful smirk. They sipped their drinks in silence for a few more moments, eyes gleaming at one another. Finally, she said, "This is rather good, too. An unusual taste. What is it?" "Niège du Vulcan. It's made from a couple of berries harvested from the sub-Arctic region of Vulcan. My brother, Robert, developed it after my recuperation from the Borg attack at the family vinyard. It took him years to get the recipe right. A means of reconciliation with him, such an Earth bound man. Unfortunately, his only original legacy." He took a sip. "The last legacy of the Picards, I'm afraid," he muttered softly and bitterly. The slow movement of the Mozart ended, and the Minuet began, transforming the mood. She let her foot twirl in the air seductively near his knee again in time with the music, looking at his collection of artifacts. Occasionally the foot would brush the knee, and each brush held contact a little longer than before. When the Minuet was over, she said, "Do remember Kesprytt?" A warm, small smile played on his lips, and his face brightened from his chin all the way up to his bald head. "Yes. There are times, when I'm falling asleep or waking, that I remember the feel of your thoughts, the closeness of your mind. We were one. I miss that from time to time." "It's been on my mind lately, too. Makes me wish I hadn't turned you down that night." "When I suggested we explore our feelings for each other?" "Yes. It's kind of late now, though. You're leaving tomorrow." "Well, we have tonight." He beamed at her for several moments, enjoying the touch of her foot on the inside of his knee. "It wouldn't be fair to you, though, to open this up when we have so little time together. I'll see you on Betazed soon, and in two years at Starbase 4651. Perhaps later; we still have time." She sighed, and continued to toy with the inside of his knee with her toe while stroking her glass with her finger, her gaze locked with his. Suddenly, she put her drink down and pulled a datadisk from her purse. "I almost forgot, I have some data on the world Miliopa in the Deneb sector that you're going to be visiting later this year." "Oh? I thought that no one had been where we're going." "A Ferengi vessel was in the area, and just happened to have an archeologist on board. They discovered some interesting things about the civilization that made it to spaceflight before it disappeared. Would you like to look at it while I tell you about it?" Relieved, he stood up and extended his hand to her. "Of course, it would be a delight." ************** "Are you sure that you want to take this shift, Mr. O'Brien? It's your first night back on board and you've had long journey from Cordubous." Commander Martin Madden, the new First Officer of the Enterprise, looked at him with worried eyes. "I'm sure that Lieutenant Pickford can take the chair tonight while we're in Spacedock. I don't understand why you're in such a hurry." Miles O'Brien tried to look back at him placidly through drooping eyelids. "I'm eager to get reacquainted with the ship, and to visit with Ensign Nog again. Staying up all night is something I've done many times before, and I can do it without blinking. Just want to be on top of things and up to speed when I see Captain Picard tomorrow morning 0900, and I have a lot of catching up to do." The First Officer shook his head. "I don't see why you have to press on, but you've served with the Captain before, so you should know what he wants better than I do. I guess you'll have lot of time to catch up on rest before we cross into uncharted space. Good evening, then." He stood up from Command Chair and left the bridge. Miles O'Brien stood by the chair and announced: "Lieutenant Commander Miles O'Brien reporting for duty, Executive Officer, U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 56943.6. Verify Retinal scan and DNA match." The Computer replied almost immediately. "Recognized: Lieutenant Commander Miles O'Brien, Executive Officer, U. S. S. Enterpise, Stardate 56943.6. Orders received and posted. Security Clearance 6." "Begin Night Watch" "Night Watch begun." He looked around the bridge at the skeleton crew for the evening. Ensign Nog, the first Ferengi member of Starfleet, sat at the helm. Nog had turned to smile at him briefly before turning back to his console. Ensign Gor'va'taht, a Tellarite, was at the Science station; a large, blue, porcine body with spindly limbs filled his uniform. Ensign Sandrino was at the Engineer's station; it seemed odd that he would be there instead of in Engineering while they were in port, but Sandrino had the choice of where to post himself under the circumstances. He was lean and brown: his hair was black and slicked back; his moustache delicately curled. Looking around, Miles suspected that something unusual was going on, but nothing dangerous. He hit the Comm link: "Dr. T'fil, any report from Sickbay?" The Vulcan's placid voice came through the comm: "No, Lieutenant Commander. All quiet here, no patients this evening." "Please be sure to report if a couple of Terran teenagers come by with broken or sprained appendages, if you would be so kind." "These would be your children, Lieutenant Commander O'Brien, would they not?" "Very logical, Dr. T'fil." "I will keep you informed. Sickbay out." Miles hit the button and looked at the view of Earth through the Spacedock door. Despite his exhaustion, he fidgeted in anticipation of what might happen. ************ Jean-Luc was hunched over his monitor, entranced; Beverly was directly behind him reaching over his shoulder, pointing. She said, "The archeologist who let me copy this told me that this evidence proves that Miliopa learned spaceflight from an independent trader of unknown origin rather than developed it themselves. This leap in technology created massive strain on the economy, culture, morality, and orientation of the Miliopans. They disappeared about one hundred of their years after gaining this knowledge." He nodded: "This is still more evidence to the wisdom of the Prime Directive. Such a tragedy for this to happen to any race, particularly one so innocent." She tapped a couple of buttons on his keypad and brought up some more images. "Here's some images that I think you'll find fascinating. The Miliopans used sexual expression as an integral part of their spirituality. These images depict a series of positions that they thought would bring them union with the Creativity of the Universe, and they practiced them as part of weekly ritual both in the home and at their temples." "Yes, similar to the ancient Canaanite religions of Earth, as well as the Kama Sutra tradition and the Bes'marq of Andorria Prime. The Miliopans were such a beautiful people." "They even performed these ritual acts on the launch pad of their first space expedition before it took off." He sat back, his bald head touching her left breast through the dress. Her eyes closed at the contact. "Can you animate this?" he said. "Of course." She touched another pad and a slideshow of each sex act appeared in turn before them. Her face leaned forward to look at the monitor more closely, their cheeks barely touched. The figures almost danced before them in their simple elegance and passion. His attention was focused on the screen for long time after their cheeks touched, then he turned his face so their lips could follow the natural magnetism between them and blend with hers. Star Trek TNG: Crusher's Conspiracy *************** The words on the monitor screen were becoming a blur. Miles O'Brien fidgeted in the command chair and remembered his conversation with Dr. Beverly Crusher at Starfleet Medical that morning, after pre-posting checkup. They had been looking at a new device on her monitor. "This is the schematic for the LeForge MBT. It's a breakthrough in miniaturization that has ramifications that will play out for decades." Miles' jaw dropped. "I heard Geordi talk about this back during our days together on the Enterprise, but I never imagined he'd get so far so fast. Is there a prototype yet?" "No, not quite yet. The science is sound." "So's the engineering. Limited range, I see: wouldn't be reliable as far as from Earth to Moon, but from standard orbit to surface it should be fine It would be a huge breakthrough. I'd love to see one of these babies." "Another six months, Miles, that's the prediction." She touched a few buttons on her desk and the office door closed behind them. Miles looked surprised, and Beverly gave him a reassuring look. "I have a favor to ask of you this evening. It's a special mission for Starfleet that concerns the Captain." "Tell me about it." "I can't tell you much: it's only for top command clearance. What I must ask you to do is make sure some activity in the Captain's quarters doesn't get recorded or logged tonight." "Sure, I can do that, easy. Should I go over the logs with the Captain in the morning and ask him what to delete?" "No, absolutely not. This operation is not to be discussed aboard the Enterprise in any way shape or form. The Captain would be rather upset if he knew I asked you to help me, so don't ask, don't tell, as they said on old Earth. Any leak might compromise the operation, any reference in a crew member's personal log would even cause horrific repercussions." "How do you want me to do this?" "The best way is if you took the Night Watch on the Enterprise tonight. If anything unusual happens around the Captain's quarters, you can order the duty officers to ignore it and not record it. Are you willing to do it?" "Sure, Doctor. I'll let you know if there are any problems with that. Anything that will help you, the Captain, or Starfleet." "Thanks, Miles. I knew I could count on you." So Miles had requested the Night Watch his first night back on ship, regardless of the logical loopholes and the family turbulence the request might generate. ***************** Niège du Vulcan gave the hood of Beverly's clitoris and lower lips a sharp electric tingle before Jean-Luc's soft, insistent tongue quested after every drop. Her eyes were closed and her hands touching her sticky breasts: he had savored fine, if replicated, chocolate sauce from her smooth skin, teasing her nipples and sending ripples of pleasure through her. Moaning more and more quickly, she was ascending the stratosphere of delight in search of the Warp Drive ecstasy above. She purred, "How did you get so good at this? No, don't stop and answer me, I don't want to know, I don't want to know, just don't stop." He trickled another ribbon of liqueur between her legs and his tongue became as agile as an Orion dancer, flitting around frantically and determinedly and her desire built and built and built to reach a conclusion that had her writhing uncontrollably on the floor for several minutes. Pushing his head away, she surrendered to quiver after quiver of bliss as he gently licked the insides of her thighs, then moved up to tease her nipples with more liquor and his tongue. When she returned from the plateau, her hand caressed his bald head and she propositioned: "Want to do some practical cultural research on the Miliopans?" He smiled broadly. ************ The night was creeping by as the Earth rotated beneath them. Europe had just disappeared and North America was moving into view. Despite the stim pill, Miles was having trouble staying alert, barely tracking the readouts in front of him. Sandrino and Gar'va'taht had taken a quick trip to check something in Engineering that seemed like a pretext, and were overdue to return. Nog had just left to use the cubicle in the Ward Room just off the Bridge, when a light started flashing on his monitor. Miles walked over to it and turned it off, taking a moment to erase the record of its activation. He had just sat down when two missing officers walked back onto the bridge, and Nog returned to his post a minute later. ************** Beverly was laying flat on her back on Jean-Luc's bed, her legs up over his shoulders as he pounded her strongly and rhythmically. The Andorrian klik'ha balls in their rectums were feeding their sensations into both partners, so both were lost in the sexual pleasure of both loving and being loved simultaneously. Jean-Luc has looked at the klik'ha balls suspiciously when she produced them from her purse. She explained their function, and continued: "Jean-Luc, it's the closest thing I can find on the market that links people's consciousnesses anywhere near where ours were on Kesprytt. It may take us over the edge to where our minds were joined as they were before, and what a way to be joined, as we make love. You've always been eager to explore undiscovered country. Give it a try." So he had taken the twenty centimeter diameter orb in his rectum and put one in hers before they began the ritual coupling series from Miliopia. It had worked as advertised: the mutual sensations of their first feedback orgasm had been overwhelming at first, but they became comfortable with looping ecstacy and now floated unconcerned in the deep ocean of reverberating stimulation. They were in great shape, and relished each Miliopan position athletically, their bodies changing places from time to time to produce new sensations, new stimulations. Her breath became shorter and shorter as she came near her second orgasm; he was bathed in sweat, his eyes glazed as he was lost in the insistence of his member and the insatiability of her canal as he approached his second ejaculation. Another ripple of delight, and the wall between them was broken. They were one mind again, able to hear each other's thoughts and explore each other's minds. Beverly looked for the memory from the Cosmic String he had talked about, and found the one she wanted. She kept pushing her building passion at him, to deter him from probing certain portions of her mind, and memories of Kesprytt, memories of their Wesley, memories of their friendship and long journeys together on the Enterprise. As one flesh, they exploded in an orgasm that lasted ten minutes, being fed back over and over again through the loop of their joined consciousness. They shuddered, they moaned, they clasped each other close so their skin had maximum contact. The flood subsided and they clung to each other, he still impaled in her, reluctant to let go. There were no words: their surface thoughts were one, and they descended from their heaven slowly together. When they reached the bottom, he sank into a deep sleep, and she reached for her purse at the bedside. ***************** "Transport is progress, Lieutenant Commander O'Brien," Ensign Nog shouted. "Understood, Ensign. Turn the alarm off." Miles O'Brien responded. A look of disbelief and amazement crossed Nog's face. O'Brien looked around the Bridge; fortunately, Sandrino and Gar'va'taht had wandered off again. "Ensign Nog, the Captain's Ready Room, now." Nog hesistated an instant, then leapt to attention and walked to the Ready Room. After the door hissed shut, O'Brien said: "Ensign Nog, you will not log that signal on your console and you will forget that you saw that signal." "Yes, sir," Nog said with his eyes straight forward. "May I ask why, sir?" "You may ask, Ensign, but I can't tell you much. Just understand that Captain Picard is involved in a sensitive operation, and it must not appear on any official records or logs of the ship." "Yes, sir. Is permitted to congratulate him on his new assignment?" "Absolutely not, Nog, you will make no reference to it in your conversation with him. If you brought it up, he would be extremely embarrassed and unable give you an answer." "This is hardly standard procedure, sir." Miles put an arm around Nog's shoulders and leaned over. "Nog, we've known each other a long time, and you know you can trust me. Sometimes these things happen and we have to let them pass. All right." Nog read the sincerity in O'Brien's eyes, and said, "Yes, Lieutenant Commander. I will be happy to do my duty and not make any reference to what I just say." "Thank, Nog. Now return to your post while I find our wanderers." "My uncle would be asking for a strip or two of gold pressed latinum for silence like this." "You're not your uncle, are you Nog? Bribing another officer is a court martial offense for both involved." "Yes, of course, Lieutenant Commander. I'm not my Uncle." After taking a few moments to delete the records of the signal, Miles walked back through the Bridge to the Ward Room and found an astounding sight. Gar'va'taht was kneeling on the floor in front of Sandrino, who was sitting on a chair with his fly open. The Tellarite's snout was buried in the Terran's groin, lapping furiously with his nostrils puffing short jets of air into Sandrino's bare lap. O'Brien looked at this in disbelief for several seconds, then shouted, "Attention!" The two Ensigns bolted to their feet: Sandrino's pants falling to the floor revealing a wet, red, shrinking erection. The bulge in the front of Gar'va'taht's slacks was quickly receding as well, and the four legs they stood on quivered in fear. "I don't know and don't care what you two do in your spare time when you're off duty, but when you're on duty, you are to stay at your posts unless given permission to leave. Is that understood?" "Yes, sir." "Yes, sir." O'Brien looked at Sandrino with disgust, and the Ensign quickly pulled his trousers up and fastened them, returning to attention. "Return to your posts and stay there until you are relieved by the Day Watch. Sandrino, you will spend the rest of your shift in Engineering where you belong. I should put you both on report for this, but I'll let you off with a warning this time. If I even suspect that you're flirting with each other on duty again, I'm going to throw the book at you. Understood?" "Yes, sir." "Yes, sir." "Dismissed." The Ensigns scrambled back to the bridge, and the lift sighed shut within instants. When Miles sat down in the Command Chair, he winced and crossed his legs. A Raisa pleasure girl had told him once about an encounter with a Tellarite: "He paid me ten strips of Gold Pressed Latinum to put my finger in his mouth so he could suck it. It was like a maze of old Earth belt sanders studded with nails. I put up with it for about fifteen seconds, then I gave him his money back and told him to get lost." O'Brien had heard of many exotic physical encounters in his journeys through the Stars, but he couldn't imagine why Sandrino would put his phallus into a maze of belt sanders studded with nails for any reason. He winced again and reflected that love surely was the most inscrutable thing in the galaxy. The bridge crew was so intimidated, that when the transporter alarm went off again toward the end of the shift, Gar'va'taht studiously ignored it and Nog switched it off after a headshake from O'Brien. ******************* The chronometer indicated 0530; Jean-Luc had set the alarm for 0600 and Beverly was awake at his side. He was dreaming about their experiences together through the years, and she discovered that he was tempted to seduce her the week after Jack Crusher died. She snuggled into his side, and he responded with an erection. Her mouth traveled down his body, and she began licking the head of his penis with long, slow strokes, drawing dampness. His sensations trickled into their merged consciousness, and the pilgrimage of her tongue up and down his shaft, swirling his testicles, tracing the underside of his phallus, exploring the ridge around the top transmitted ripples that set her breasts and clitoris tingling. She could feel him gradually returning to a waking state, and the semen building for an outburst. Soon he was pumping his hips, up and down his cock slid in and out of her eager mouth, until it erupted to flood her and sent them both into another Feedback Orgasm. He felt the tingle of the fluid on her tongue that she savored, and she felt every twitch of his member as she teased it in its post ejaculatory sensitivity. When he was shrunk to normal, she released him and held his sperm in her mouth. What a wonderful way to wake up, he thought. Yes, I rather enjoyed that, too. We must do this again sometime, she replied wordlessly. It's a good thing our minds are linked; you would have a hard time talking right now. Yes. This makes so much more special. I hate to give up this sensation. Indeed. I hate to run off without reciprocating, but I have to get going. A lot to do today. Why don't you take a shower first. I'm not in a hurry. Jean-Luc rolled off the bed and activated the shower. Beverly sat at the edge of the bed, focusing her mind on the experience they just had, until the mental connection was cut abruptly. Then she reached in her purse, pulled out a small, brown bead, put it in her mouth, and activated a button on a control pad from her purse. The LeForge Miniature Biological Transporter created an odd sensation in her mouth, but momentarily her mouth was clear of milky liquid. He bounced out of the shower cubicle and put the klik' ha ball on the bedstand beside her. "Why don't I whip us up a couple of Ham and Cheese omelets while you take your shower? Do you still like Rye toast? Wait a minute, of course you do. See you shortly." The shower was refreshing, and she put the klik' ha balls in her purse before she dressed. She searched her memories of the night, and smiled that she'd managed to hide her purpose from him while their minds and consciousnesses were connected. The Vulcan mind control classes she took en route to Romulus had paid off at last, and thank the stars she hadn't had to use them in the line of duty. He replicated a single red rose for the table, and they ate in silence, their eyes meeting frequently in mutual rapture during the meal. They embraced for one last deep kiss, her naked body melting into the satiny feel of his Starfleet command uniform, before his tender hands helped her re-dress in her outfit from the night before. As he walked her to the transporter chamber, he said, "I feel that I've missed out on so much over my life. This is the one departure day my enthusiasm for deep space exploration is dimmed. I wish I could stay with you." "I wish I could go with you. But we both have our work to do in different places. I'll see you next month on Betazed, and in two years on Starbase 4651." "In five years I'll see you every day, across the breakfast table as I did this morning. It will be time to explore inner space." No one paid attention to them as they walked the to corridors, her hand on his gallant arm. They reached the transporter: ordering the ensign on duty out of the room, Jean-Luc escorted her to the pad, kissed her deeply again and moved to beam her off himself. "A bientot, ma cherié," he said as he activated the device. **************** "Rough night last night, Lieutenant Commander?" Captain Picard looked quizzically at his new Executive Officer. "Fine, sir, no problems. I hope that my initial assessments of the ship and its crew roster are satisfactory." "Exemplary, Mr. O'Brien, although this could have waited. There's no reason to exhaust yourself the first day back while the ship is still at Spacedock." "I wanted to get a jump on things." "Commendable. However, you need to rest up before we get to unknown territory," he said with a deep yawn. O'Brien blinked. "Did you have a rough night last night, sir?" Picard smiled, "The opposite, Mr. O'Brien, the opposite. Now, go off duty, return to your quarters and take a nap before we leave Spacedock at 1500. Dismissed." "Thank you, sir." O'Brien walked back to his apartment quickly, lest he fall asleep en route. An inquiry with the ship's computer told him that his children were still on the Holodeck, which was a great relief. "Keiko's probably in the arboretum," he said to himself as he entered his quarters. The living room was empty, but his bed was occupied by Keiko in a filmy negligee. "All right, Miles. I've waited long enough. Three weeks together cooped up with the kids and no opportunity to make love is too much. We're home on the Enterprise, and I need a homecoming." Her stern gaze softened and became pleading. "Please, sweetheart, please." Miles stopped dumbly a moment, nodded his head and sighed, then went to the bathroom to take another stimpill. *********** Beverly Crusher looked out her picture window at the Golden Gate Bridge. Starfleet headquarters was nearby, but she lived in a house that belonged to her grandmother: big, spacious, airy. A cup of coffee was in her hand, her favorite green bathrobe on her shoulders and her personal tricorder was on the table. "Personal log, Stardate 56944.3. Mission accomplished. It was a night like I've never had before. My whole body is still tingling, and I'm excited by being able to give Jean-Luc what he's always wanted. Five years without him is going to be an eternity. "Enough semen was recovered for five impregnations and I have five ova in stasis, so there's margin for error. I'm glad that I don't have to deal with DNA manipulation or replicated semen; both techniques have such high margins for error, I'm afraid to try them. The Pulaski fertilization technique is the method I'll use for its reliability, and I will carry the children in my own womb. It will be so wonderful to be pregnant again, especially for him, and I will do things as naturally as possible after embryo implantation. With current pre-natal care available, there should be no significant risks for these pregnancies even at my age, and my body will bounce back well with the post-natal exercise regimen I developed for the Enterprise crew. "Jean-Luc will be thrilled that the Picard line is not over yet. There'll be a family of four waiting for him at the end of his journey: Robert, named after his father and brother, will be 4, Odeile, named after his mother, will be 3, Réne, named after his lost nephew, will be 2 and Francine, named after his first love who died in the accident on Vulcan, will be 1. It will be like the memory I found from his time on the Cosmic String. There will be a possibility for number five if he wants; otherwise Deanna said she's be happy to adopt. Hate to see good DNA go to waste. I look forward to raising a family on Earth, and perhaps Jean-Luc will take us to France to live on the family estate. I'll teach the children French and accustom the children to him and the chateau on the holodeck, so they won't have make much of an adjustment when he gets back. Even if he's not able to make the adjustment, a new family is just what I need. But I know he'll come around. We need each other too much." Beverly sipped her coffee and regarded the rare, blue sky over San Francisco Bay. "Here's to the next generation."