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 Archaeology Councilmember Vash, the civilian head of the Enterprise E's archaeology department, was scheduled to present her latest paper on the Gamma quadrant at the Archaeology Council's annual symposium.  That morning she put on her newest acquisitions, a mocha brown wool suit with matching pumps, and studied her reflection in the mirror.  The look of the suit was softened by the tailoring which gently skimmed every curve of her figure.  The skirt fell just above her knees, and mocha brown satin piping accented the deep V neckline of the single-breasted jacket.  Underneath the jacket was a white silk blouse with lace trim around its scalloped neckline and pearl buttons down its front.  Her only piece of jewelry was a necklace, a choker length, single strand of real pearls.

 After beaming down to the Daystrom Institute to attend the symposium, Vash made her way to the largest lecture hall in the main building.  She was supposed to present her paper just after the keynote speaker.  The keynote speaker, Ambassador Bergen Nestor of Pentarus V, was a mild-mannered diplomat who dabbled in archaeology.  His brother, Jerrod Nestor, was Pentarus V's hard hitting Justice Administer; he had just arrested Judas Genil, the head of a huge illegal mining and smuggling operation.

 Sitting behind the podium, Vash was mentally reviewing her own speech as Ambassador Nestor wrapped up his.  She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to realize that a dozen men armed with disrupter rifles had just burst into the room even though she had watched it happen.  The armed terrorists ushered all of the councilmembers to seats in the middle of the room while the leader of the terrorists, a man calling himself Ren Bards, contacted the Enterprise demanding that the Federation force Pentarus V to release Judas Genil in exchange for the Ambassador and the rest of the hostages.  As she heard the expected reply that the Federation did not negotiate with terrorists, Vash thought to herself, 'Damn, I had a really good paper to present.'

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

 On the bridge of the Enterprise E, Commander William Riker worked to unclench his jaw.  This was not a promising start to the day, so far, it looked as if Bards had taken little interest in the archaeology councilmembers, concentrating instead on the Ambassador.  Riker was fairly certain that Bards was not even aware of Vash's identity.  That was something at least.

 "If he hurts her," Worf growled from his post at tactical.  From ops, Data, who had developed a tendency to see himself as Vash's champion, gave a small, silent nod in agreement with Worf's implied threat.  The infuriated expression on the android's face left no doubt that his emotion chip was functioning.

 'We make sure he gives us a real good excuse to beat the shit out of him,' Riker wanted to say.  Afterall, Vash was a part of the family.  Instead, Riker cautioned both officers, "Let's not jump the gun here.  He seems pretty focused on the Ambassador, I don't think he even knows who she is."  Casting an apprehensive glance toward the captain's ready room, he looked back at Data and added, "Data, I don't suppose you'd like to go back there and bell the cat for me?"

 "If that euphemism is referring to the action that I cogitate it is referring to, then absolutely not, sir," Data replied succinctly.

 "Damn, I didn't think so," Riker sighed with resignation.  He made his way over to the ready room door and rang the chime.

 "Come," Captain Jean-Luc Picard's voice came through the door. Taking a deep breath, Riker squared his shoulders and walked in.

 "Yes, Number One," Picard said pleasantly as he looked up from the report he had been working on.  Seeing Riker's grave demeanor, Picard knew instantly that something was very wrong.  "What's happened, Will?"

 Standing in a military stance, Riker gave his report, "Sir, a group of armed terrorists have stormed the large lecture hall in the main building of the Daystrom Institute.  They are holding Ambassador Nestor and the entire Archaeology Council hostage."

 'Vash!' was Picard's first thought as the news hit him like a physical blow.  Laying down the report, his voice tightened, "Casualties?"

 "None that we're aware of, sir."

 Picard looked over at his fish tank and watched the lionfish swim around.  Without looking at Riker, he quietly asked, "Vash, Will?"

 "We have to assume she is one of the hostages.  I checked the transporter log, she beamed down first thing this morning.  I'm sorry, Captain," Riker replied.  He took a step closer to the desk, "However, the leader seems to be very focused on the Ambassador.  I doubt he is aware of her identity."

 "Please, just once, let her show the sense God gave a goose and lay low!" Picard implored to the ceiling of his ready room.  Pushing his personal concerns aside, he turned back to his first officer, his tone all business, "Give me the particulars."

 "There are twelve men armed with disrupter rifles.  Their leader is a man calling himself Ren Bards.  Data is doing a computer background search on him as we speak.  They want the Federation to force Pentarus V to release Judas Genil and are demanding to speak to the ranking Federation representative in the system," Riker informed him.

 "Who is the ranking representative in the system at the moment?" the captain inquired.

 "At the moment that would be you, sir," Riker replied.

 "Wonderful," Picard huffed, "essentially, they want me to force Elliot Ness to release Al Capone."

 "That seems to be the basic idea, sir."

 "All right, tell Mr. Worf I want a list of all security officers onboard who have attended Starfleet's Advanced Tactical Training school within the hour.  Also have him start coordinating security efforts with the Daystrom Institutes' personnel.  I want you and Mr. Data to meet me in my quarters in one hour for a tactical briefing," Picard commanded.

 "Aye, sir," Riker replied.  He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Captain, is there any chance that you will allow me to handle this situation."

 "No," Picard answered succinctly even though he knew his first officer had a very valid point.  As he stood, he added, "However, Commander, if you wish to make an objection due to my personal involvement in the situation, I will note it in my log."

 "No sir, it was just an idea," Riker gave a small smile and held up his hands in capitulation, "and I had to give it the old college try."

 "Of course, Number One," Picard replied congenially.  "As you pointed out, they probably don't even know her identity, let alone her relationship to me."

 Placing a hand on Picard's shoulder, Riker did something he very rarely did.  He used his CO's first name.  "Jean-Luc, if it should become an issue, promise me you'll step aside and let me handle the situation.  I'd bring her home safely."

 "I know you would, Will, and you have my word," Picard nodded.

 "Good enough," Riker said, stepping back.  Giving Picard a conspiratorial smile, he added, "It's probably better that we have you there holding the reins.  Worf seems to be tempted to take this Bards guy out back and explain to him the error of his ways.  I'd lay odds on Data joining in with him, and I must admit, I'm more inclined at the moment to help them rather than restrain them."

 Picard raised an amused eyebrow, "Taking it personally, are we?"

 Riker nodded, "The whole crew is going to take it personally.  She is one of our own."

 "Bridge to Captain Picard," Data's voice broke in over the comm.

 Picard tapped his comm badge, "Picard here."

 "Sir, we have an incoming transmission for you from the Daystrom Institute.  It is the terrorist leader, Ren Bards," Data said.

 "We're on our way," Picard replied as he stepped out from behind his desk.  After closing the channel, he turned to Riker, "Well Number One, it's time to see if all those hours we've spent at the poker table pay off."

 As Picard and Riker stepped back onto the bridge, Data stood up from the command chair and returned to his post at ops.  Picard moved to stand in front of his command chair while Riker sat down at his post just to the right of the captain.  Squaring his shoulders, Picard tugged once at his jacket before ordering, "On screen, Mr. Worf."

 "Aye, sir," the large Klingon replied.

 Instantly on the screen appeared a swarthy man with very angular features and cold, dark eyes.  Dressed all in black, he was a few inches shorter than Riker and not quite as broadly built.  Very well armed, his bearing was that of a professional mercenary.  Instinct, from years of experience, told Picard that this man was most likely very dangerous.  The captain abhorred the idea of Vash being in the same quadrant as this man, let alone in the same room.  Picard carefully kept his tone even and diplomatic, "Mr. Bards, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

 "Captain, let's cut to the chase and do a little business, shall we?" Bards seemed to be self-assured and impertinent. "You Feds have something I want and I have quite a few things you want.  It's so simple really.  You boys hand over Genil, then I'll hand over the Ambassador and the rest of the hostages."

 "Before we discuss anything further, I want to see the hostages," Picard replied.

 "Agreed," Bards nodded.  Looking off to the side, he ordered, "Show the boys upstairs the goods."

 The view on the screen panned the room, showing the rest of the armed terrorists and the center of the lecture hall where the hostages were sitting.  Picard carefully surveyed the scene, spotting the ambassador rather quickly.  After another moment or so he spotted Vash; nonchalantly toying with a thread on the cuff of her suit jacket, she was seated in the front row toward the left side of the screen.  The view returned to Bards.

 "Satisfied?" Bards asked.

 "Yes," Picard nodded. "However, I will need some time to contact the Pentarus V government."

 "Of course, Captain," the terrorist replied in an overly friendly tone. "But don't dawdle.  I'm sure you wouldn't want anything to happen to any of these innocent bystanders."

 "That would not be in your best interest, Mr. Bards," Picard quietly warned in a voice of iced steel.  He thought to himself, 'If you so much as harm a hair on her head, I promise your life expectancy will decrease dramatically.'

 "Later, skipper," Bards called flippantly before ending the transmission.

 "I really hate that term," Picard sighed to himself as he sat down in the center seat.  Glancing over to his left at Troi, he asked, "Your opinion, Counselor?"

 "Bards and the rest of the terrorists are feeling very confident, maybe even overly confident.  Which could prove useful," she answered.  "Most of the hostages were apprehensive, but I did not sense any real panic."

 "Anything from Vash, Deanna?" Picard inquired.

 "She is bored," Troi replied with a small smile, "I also sensed some mild irritation but mostly just boredom."

 "I know she puts up a brave front," Picard started.

 Troi briefly placed her hand on his arm, "Relax, she's bored, very, very bored."

 Picard nodded to Deanna before turning to his first officer. "Number One?"

 "They're certainly not infallible, the pan of the whole room for instance," Riker sounded pleased.

 "Agreed," Picard replied.

 "What importance does that have?" Troi asked.

 "Tactical information," Picard answered.

 Looking over to see a pained expression on the Klingon's face, Riker teased, "Mr. Worf, the next time Starfleet wants us to send someone for tactical training, make sure the Counselor is on the top of the list."

 "Aye, sir, I'll see to it myself," Worf retorted dryly.

 Picard turned to Data.  "Data, please put the frame that showed the most of the room on screen."

 "Yes, sir," Data responded and a scene of all the hostages sitting in the center of the large room appeared on the view screen.  Picard rose from the command chair and walked over to stand in front of the screen.

 "He seems to have posted his forces here, here, here, and here," Picard noted as he pointed to the different positions on the screen.  "With the exception of stretching their legs a little, they will most likely hold those positions."

 "Agreed,"  Riker nodded as he stood and made his way over to Picard to get a closer look at the screen.

 "Data, I want you to use the records of this transmission to pinpoint the placement of Bards' forces on the schematics of the building," Picard ordered without looking away from the screen.

 "Aye, sir," the android acknowledged from ops.

 "Number One, we have the safety of quite a few hostages to worry about, so when we make our move, I want a lighting strike that will quickly and completely overwhelm the terrorists," Picard told his first officer.

 "Yes, sir," Riker replied from beside him.

 Unbidden, the captain's eyes fell on the image of Vash.  He noticed how the short skirt set off her long, shapely legs, gracefully crossed as she sat in her chair.  'Damn, she's as strikingly beautiful as always.  I was kidding myself to think she would actually blend into the background,' he thought as he let out a worried sigh.

 "Captain?" Riker asked him quietly as he followed his CO's gaze to Vash.

 Picard spoke so only his first officer could hear, "Sorry Number One.  I was just wishing she didn't stand out so much.  That skirt being a little longer wouldn't hurt either."

 "She'll be fine; but, expecting Vash not to stand out in a crowd is like expecting Q not to be irritating," Riker said with a small smile.

 "You have a point, Will.  I'll meet you and Data in my quarters," Picard replied.  Glancing back up at the image of Vash on the screen, he thought, 'I'm on my way, chere.'  Then turning on his heel, he headed back to his ready room.

 "Aye, sir," Riker nodded and watched as the captain made his way off the bridge.

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

 Vash and the rest of her colleagues on the Archaeology Council sat in the lecture hall for over five hours as the terrorists intermittently reissued their demands and paced the room.  She was not really frightened, but more annoyed that these jerks wasted her whole day.  She overheard one of the terrorists report to Bards that the building had been sealed off by a group of Starfleet security led by a very large and very angry-looking Klingon.  Vash couldn't keep from smiling, Worf was never what you would call subtle.  Shifting in her seat, Vash tugged on the short brown skirt of her suit and re-crossed her legs.  Then a voice snapped, "Hey you."

 Vash looked up at Bards, who was now standing in front of her with two of his men.  She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.  The terrorist leered down at her, "Yes, you with the legs.  What's the smile for?"

 The colleague who had been sitting next to her made a move to intervene, but before he could, Vash laid a hand on his arm, "It's all right, George."

 "Just stay seated, George," Bards sneered.  "So tell me Legs, what was the smile for?  Is one of those yellow clad, hero-wanna-be, do-gooders out there a boyfriend?"

 "Not at all," Vash answered looking up at the ceiling.  To herself she thought, 'You pitiful fool, you have no idea who you're talking to.'  Just then she saw a ceiling tile was silently being lifted up.  A Starfleet commando, with his phaser rifle at the ready, stealthily dropped to the floor behind the three terrorists in front of her.  As he held his phaser rifle, his lean, muscular build strained against the material of his dark grey, form-fitting combat uniform.  The four slightly lighter, grey rank pips on his collar were almost unnoticeable.  Determination was etched in the strongly sculpted features of his handsome face.  The fringe of closely trimmed grey hair at the nape of his neck accented the color of his penetrating grey eyes.  The three men turned to face him.  Vash watched as Captain Jean-Luc Picard, her fiancee', using the butt of his rifle and amazingly fast hand-to-hand combat expertise, disarmed all three terrorists and had them laying on the floor in seconds.  At the exact same time, thirty more Starfleet commandos, including Data and Will Riker, flooded into the room from the ceiling, windows, and doors.  In less than a minute all twelve terrorists were stripped of their weapons and laying on the floor, without a single shot being fired.

 Picard stood over the three terrorists with his rifle trained on them.  His deep voice resonated with authority as he addressed the leader.  "Ren Bards, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise."  As the name sunk in, the terrorist groaned in defeat.  Picard continued, "I am hereby placing you and your followers under arrest on charges of terrorism, kidnapping, and ownership of illegal weapons.  Mr. Data,"

 "Yes, Captain." The android swiftly appeared at Picard's side.

 "Please find any other applicable offenses to charge these men with?"

 "With pleasure, sir.  I am certain that, in addition to several Federation laws, there are also many obsolete, but still very binding, laws on Pentarus V that they can be charged with."

 "Thank you, Mr. Data, I will await your report."

 As he spoke, Vash found herself studying Jean-Luc.  She admired the chiseled features of his face and the firm set of his mouth.  She found herself daydreaming about the feel of those lips on hers, kissing her intensely, passionately.  Her gaze traveled over his broad shoulders and the bulge of his hardened biceps as he held the phaser rifle in his large hands.  The dark commando uniform emphasized the tightly leashed strength contained in the corded muscles of his sleek build.  Her imagination raced with thoughts of him taking her with the same determination and expertise he had shown in taking this room.  The idea made her go weak in the knees.  She felt her pulse and breathing quicken.

 His eyes met hers as he glanced over at the councilmembers.  "Is everyone all right?"

 Vash, along with the rest of the councilmembers, nodded.  But then she swallowed hard and looked away.  She knew she was flushed, her breathing shallow and her heart pounding.  She didn't want to distract Jean-Luc with her heated response.  Or even worse, he'd mistake her reaction for fear and become protective, wanting to comfort and take care of her.  If that happened, she'd never get him to bed her tonight.  She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to distract herself by watching the security teams gather up the terrorists to beam them to the Enterprise's brig.  Just as Riker and Worf reached Jean-Luc, one of the security teams was hauling the three terrorists in front of him up to their feet.

 "Ma'am, are you all right"

 "They didn't hurt you, ma'am, did they?"

 "Is there anything we can get you, ma'am?"

 Vash looked up to see three officers, rather handsome young men, practically falling over themselves to help their commanding officer's bride-to-be.  Doing her best to appear nonchalant, Vash stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles on her short brown skirt.  She patted two of the young officers on the shoulder and smiled flirtatiously at all three, "Really boys, I'm fine.  After the last five hours, I'm just very tired of sitting."

 Ren Bards, now in restraints, eyed the scene.  Taking a step away from his security guards toward Vash, he snarled, "Just who the hell are you, Legs?"

 Immediately, all three officers took on an alert protective stance, surrounding her.  From behind them, Vash watched as the butt of Data's rifle slammed into Bard's stomach, pushing him back to his security guards who seized his arms.  Will Riker towered over Bards, sounding very dangerous as he hissed, "She is none of your concern!"

 Now standing off to one side, Picard slung his rifle over his shoulder and motioned for Vash to come and stand with him.  Standing there next to him as he commanded his officers, she couldn't help but notice his almost overwhelming virility and masculine presence.  She could just barely smell his clean scented aftershave.  Unable to resist temptation, Vash laid her hand to rest on his upper arm enjoying the feel of the powerful muscles underneath the uniform.  He glanced down at her.

 Vash leaned against him to give the impression that she had lost her balance slightly.  With a small smile, she explained, "I've been sitting for over five hours."

 "Your equilibrium is probably a little off," he told her gently.

 "Probably," Vash agreed.  It sounded a lot better than telling him, 'Actually darling, seeing you do the commando-warrior thing has me so hot and bothered  that I want you to take me here, right now, big boy!'  Jean-Luc slid his arm around her, his hand resting at the small of her back.  As she shifted closer to him, she thought, 'This will work!'  Vash glanced back at Bards.  His eyes were wide with shock as he realized just who she was.

 "Oh shit!" Bards gasped just before he was transported to the brig.

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

 On board the Enterprise, Riker and Data beamed up with the last group of security officers.  The First Officer smiled as he saw Beverly Crusher and Deanna standing next to Ensign O'Riley, who was running the transporter.  As he and Data stepped off the pad, Riker addressed the young ensign, "With the exception of the Captain and Councilmember Vash, is everyone onboard, Mr. O'Riley?"

 "Aye, sir," the young man confirmed in a rich Gaelic accent. "And Commander Worf is overseeing the confinement of the terrorists in the brig."

 "Very good," Riker nodded.  He turned to the two ladies, "I know Beverly is here on emergency standby.  What about you Deanna?"

 "Just a little professional rubber-necking," Deanna admitted with a smile.  "So what's keeping the Captain and Vash?"

 "The Ambassador and other members of the Archaeology council mentioned to Vash that they wanted to thank the captain personally," Data explained.

 "In other words, Vash is busy showing off Jean-Luc," Beverly chuckled to Deanna.

 "No doubt,"  Deanna giggled in reply.

 "From your mood, Doctor, may I assume there were no injuries to report?" Riker asked.

 "Nothing but a few various bumps and bruises, which is to be expected when  people start jumping through windows and down from ceilings instead of using perfectly good doors," Crusher quipped.

 "Doors? Oh Doctor, how passé," Riker teased back.

 "Sir," O'Riley interrupted, "the captain is signaling that he and Councilmember Vash are ready to beam up."

 "Very good, Ensign, energize," Riker replied.

 Picard and Vash materialized side by side on the transporter pad.  The fact that Jean-Luc had lead the assault himself was not lost on Vash.  Wondering if he really had insisted on rescuing her himself, she idly remarked, "I am a little surprised.  I mean, thirty Starfleet commandos led by the captain of the Federation flagship is a very inordinate response to say the least."

 "The response and my involvement may have been a bit irregular, but it was hardly inordinate," Picard replied with a small smile as he slung the strap of his rifle over his shoulder.  Inwardly, he sighed with relief now that he had Vash back on the Enterprise safe and sound.

 Vash felt her heart skip a beat as Jean-Luc graced her with his barely-there smile.  She raised an amused eyebrow and countered, "Right.  And the reason for your involvement in this irregular response would be what?  The Ambassador, the number of hostages, or could it possibly have been because yours truly was one of the hostages?"

 "Yes," Picard said succinctly.

 Vash blinked in surprise. The very notion that Jean-Luc went charging down there himself to retrieve her was enough to cause butterflies in her stomach.  Vash was quickly trying to decide who's quarters were closer, hers or Jean-Luc's.  Suddenly realizing the room was filled with a number of their friends, she thought to herself,  'Oh damn, saved by the crowd, Jean-Luc.'   Of course, if she didn't calm him down, she would never get him into bed with her tonight.  Granted, if she had her way, they wouldn't make it to a bed anyway.  But if he didn't get that phaser rifle out of his nice, tight, . . .

 "Vash, are you all right?" Riker asked, concern evident in his voice.

 Riker's voice shook Vash out of her own thoughts.  With a smile, she replied, "I'm fine, Will. thank you."

 "Did they injure you in anyway?" Data also sounded worried.  "Your heart-rate and blood pressure are elevated."

 'Oh my sweet Data, you're so observant, but so blessedly clueless,' Vash thought to herself, charmed by his concern.  However, she had no intention on explaining to the android that it was not fear but an intense sexual desire that had set her heart pounding. "I'm all right, Data.  I may be suffering from a mild adrenaline rush, but that's about it.  After all, the day began and ended with more than a touch of excitement."

 Looking over at Crusher, Picard gestured toward Vash. "Doctor, if you please."

 "All I did was sit in the same chair for over five hours.  While some people might consider that a stressful day at the office, I found it quite tedious," Vash teased, intentionally flippant to try and soothe Jean-Luc.

 "Such gratitude from my blushing bride-to-be," Picard retorted wryly.

 "My hero," Vash cooed with a melodramatic Southern accent.  Patting his arm a bit patronizingly, she continued.  "The fact is I never doubted the outcome.  I knew you were up here with all these wonderful toys Starfleet has given you."

 "Uh-huh," Picard rolled his eyes.

 "A scan will only take a moment and it will appease him," Beverly grinned conspiratorially as she approached Vash.

 "I know," Vash chuckled. "And I'll admit I was a bit alarmed when the terrorists first burst into the room.  Then we all sat there for hours staring at the walls.  Really, Beverly, the worst part of it was the boredom."

 "I tried to tell him that you were bored," Deanna said as she joined them on the transporter pad.

 "If you ladies will excuse me, I'll be over talking with Will and Data.  At least they appreciate me," Picard quipped with feigned insult as turned to step down from the transporter pad.

 'Oh, baby, you are greatly appreciated from back here,' Vash watched intently as Picard walked away from them.

 "Not only were you bored, I neglected to mention horny as hell," Deanna continued once he was out of earshot.

 "My very own little French delicacy," Vash sighed as Beverly moved the medical tricorder over her.

 "Well, aside from your heart going pitter-pat, which I assume is because your fiancee' is in the room, you're fine," the doctor concluded, snapping the tricorder shut.  Noticing Vash's eyes had not once strayed from Picard, Beverly exchanged a mischievous glance with Deanna, "Could she want him more?"

 Shaking her head, Deanna chuckled, "I don't think so."

 "So you ladies won't be insulted if I take my leave and drag my fiancee' to the nearest empty room to be properly and very thoroughly appreciated all night if he can last that long."   Not waiting for an answer, Vash hopped off the transporter pad and trotted off to claim Jean-Luc for the night.

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

 Vash leaned back against the wall of the turbolift and sighed contentedly.  'Alone at last,' she thought as she watched Jean-Luc, who still had the phaser rifle.  He checked the safety and then powered down the weapon, preparing it for storage in his, soon-to-be-their, quarters.

 "Halt," he stopped the lift and looked up when he heard her sigh.  "Vash?"

 She regarded her handsome, powerful and very protective fiancee.  Vash couldn't help it, she giggled at the thought that came to her mind, "Ren Bards is one sorry son-of-a-bitch."

 "Indeed he is.  I don't take kindly to anyone trying to harm my best girl," Picard told her, his tone charmingly wry.  For the first time since the hostage crisis began, he permitted himself to delight in her.  His eyes slowly traveled over Vash, the delicate features of her face, her vivid blue eyes, the way the suit clung to her perfect curves and the skirt skimmed her thighs.  As his eyes lingered on the very sheer silk stockings that covered her long shapely legs, he arched an eyebrow and smiled appreciatively.  "Further more, I, and I alone, am the only one allowed to call you 'Legs.' "

 "Heard that, huh?" she asked, feeling herself flush slightly under his gaze.

 "Uh huh," he muttered, still admiring her legs.

 Using the walk Jean-Luc had affectionately nicknamed her 'stripper strut,'  Vash slowly sauntered the few steps across the turbolift to him.  She reached up and splayed her small hands across the hard expanse of his chest.  He was still holding the rifle in his hands, lengthwise across his torso between them.  His eyes locked with hers as she let one hand slide up to trace the rank pips on his collar.  "Jean-Luc, I wasn't the target, the Ambassador was the target.  Bards didn't know who I was until just before he was put into the brig.  He would have made his demands to any ranking Federation or Starfleet representative in the area.  It was just dumb luck that you were the one in the area and that I was one of the hostages."

 "I would call it a serious miscalculation on his part," he stated flatly.  "And if he'd laid so much as a finger on you, he would have found it to be an extremely painful miscalculation."

 Vash affected the expression and tone of a naughty schoolgirl, "So Johnny, were you and Billy Riker and the rest of the boys going to take him out back after school and beat him up."

 "The thought may have crossed our minds," Picard said with a small, self-deprecating smile.  He loved her sense of humor.  The impish sparkle in her eyes along with the feel of her delicate fingers playing with the rank pips on his collar was driving him to distraction.  She was so breathtakingly lovely.  A rush of intense desire went through him.  However, she looked flushed and it had probably been a long and terrifying ordeal.  She was most likely exhausted and needed to rest.  Out of concern for her, he pushed his own needs aside.  His voice was tender, "Are you all right?  I'm sure the whole thing was very frightening."

 "Really, I'm fine," she tried to reassure him.  As her hands continued to explore the hard muscles of his upper chest and shoulders, she went on, "They were there, they were annoying, they were gone.  Although, I was frightened that they were going to take your mother's pearls from me."

 "They're inconsequential.  No material possession is as important to me as you are.  Now, is there anything I can do for you?" he asked her gently as he thought to himself, 'Anything that will help distract me from all the things I want to do to you.'

 Vash could see the passion smoldering in those steel grey eyes.  She knew he was ignoring his own desires and she had a pretty good idea why.  She decided it was time to force him to mentally jump tracks.  "There is one thing."

 "Resume," he told the computer, then asked, "and that is?"

 Vash tilted her face up to his.  Her voice was a low, seductive whisper, "Please Jean-Luc, kiss me."

 Picard lowered his face to hers intending to brush a sweet, lingering kiss across her luscious mouth.  Her warm lips trembled slightly, as his lips brushed over them ever-so-slightly.  He could smell the provocative scent of her favorite perfume.  Vash's arms slid around his neck and her body melted against his.  Her body's reaction caused a new surge of arousal in his own and he deepened the kiss.  His lips pressed harder against hers, his tongue parting her lips to ardently explore her mouth.  As her lips and tongue answered the demands of his, he could feel every muscle in his body tighten in fervent response.  He realized they were still in the turbolift and reluctantly pulled back, breaking the kiss.  He took a deep breath to try and rein in his increasing desires.  "I, uh, I assume you're going to stay in my quarters with me tonight."

 "Of course," she answered, still a little breathless from his kiss.  She turned to face the turbolift door just as it opened.  As she walked out of the lift she glanced back at him and asked rather mischievously, "Johnny, do I still even have quarters of my own?"

 "Although, it seems to be nothing but a mere technicality," he began, enjoying the view of her shapely legs and the delightful sway of her hips as he followed her out of the turbolift.  "Indeed you do, they're on deck nine, section five."

 "Well, fancy that."

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

 Picard followed Vash into his quarters.  Crossing over to his desk, she unbuttoned her suit jacket and slid it off.  As Vash laid the jacket on the desk, she noticed several padds sitting there along with the plans for the building she had been in.  Jean-Luc, Will and Data must have planned their assault in here.  She turned around to face Jean-Luc.  She reached up to toy with the pearl choker.  Leaning against the desk, Vash rolled the smooth pearls between her thumb and index finger.  He walked over to stand just in front of her.  Dressed in the dark grey combat uniform with the rifle held down along his side, he looked every inch the legendary hero.  Her breath caught in her throat.  Letting go of the necklace, she reached out and gently stroked her fingers through the grey hair at his temple.

 Picard's senses stirred from the feel of her fingers through his hair and the sight of her standing in front of him.  The delicate silk blouse followed her body like a second skin, trailing over the lush curves of her breasts and down her flat stomach to her slim waist.  The silk, lace, and tiny pearl buttons rose and fell in the most alluring way with each breath she took.  With his free hand, he reached up to run a finger lightly under the pearl necklace he had given her.  His voice was a low, bedroom baritone, "Vash, these pearls are not my mother's.  They belong to you now.  Any woman as beautiful as you are should have a strand of pearls."

 Looking down, Vash demurely averted her eyes and her hands dropped to her sides.  In a quiet, almost shy whisper, she asked, "Am I beautiful?"

 Gently, Picard cupped her chin in his hand and drew her gaze back up to his.  He stared into those vivid blue eyes as he lowered his face to hers.  Just before his lips captured hers in a forcefully possessive kiss, he whispered hoarsely, "Oh yes."

 The sheer power of the kiss shook Vash to her very soul.  As his mouth took command of hers, she felt as if every bone in her body had melted.  His kiss added fuel to the burning need that had been threatening to engulf her from the moment he entered the lecture hall.  Her entire body trembled with anticipation.

 Finally, with both of them breathless, he pulled back breaking the kiss.  He felt the muscles of his body tighten and his hardness grow with each passing moment.  The intensity of the kiss made him realize just how strongly his emotions were running at the moment.  Now that he had her back safely, he wanted to take this gorgeous woman and make her his, repeatedly.  'At ease, Captain,' Picard chastised himself. 'Just relax, slow down to let her catch up.  She is yours and you have the rest of the night, not to mention the rest of your life, to enjoy it.'

 Vash looked up into Jean-Luc's desire-hardened grey eyes.  Reaching up with one hand, she ran the tips of her fingers sensuously over his bottom lip and whispered, "More."

 "Oh Vash," he rasped as her sultry plea drove his need up yet another notch.  Again, his mouth descended onto hers in a fiercely demanding kiss.  He slid one powerful arm around her tiny waist, crushing her soft, supple form against his hard, muscular body.  His tongue plunged past her parted lips, decisively staking claim to everything in its path.

 As her lips and tongue responded ravenously to his, Vash was very aware of the stiff peaks of her breasts crushed against the muscular wall of his chest.  Her entire body now felt as if it were made of liquid flames and her small hands clutched his broad shoulders tightly.  She pressed her hips against the granite-like hardness of his.  Picard groaned at the sensations that the contact of her hips invoked in him.  Letting go of the rifle, his other hand moved to entangle itself in the hair at the back of her head as he deepened the kiss even further.  She lost herself in the strength of his arms and his clean masculine scent.  Neither of them heard the rifle hit the floor.

 Picard's mouth slid from hers, moving down to explore the soft skin of her neck.  As his lips nuzzled her neck, Vash let out a soft moan and her head rolled back against his hand.  Her arms dropped helplessly down to her sides.  Reaching the hollow of her throat, he felt her rapid pulse against his lips.  Her breathing was very shallow.  Impulsively, he flicked his tongue against the pulse point very rapidly.  He was rewarded with a breathless gasp.  He pulled back to look at her.  Her eyes fluttered open and she returned his gaze.  A rosy flush had swept up her ivory skin from underneath her blouse.  His attention was drawn to the very first pearl button.

 Picard's eyes followed his hands as he deftly undid the pearl buttons of her blouse all the way down to the waistline of her skirt.  Pushing the blouse open, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the full curves of her breasts threatening to spill over the lace edging of her delicate white satin bra.  He slipped his hands inside the blouse, feeling her tremble at his touch.  Her hardened nipples pressed against his palms through the thin satin and lace as he cupped her breasts in his hands.

 Arching into the exquisite sensations of his touch, Vash placed her hands over his.  She gasped as his thumbs drew slow circles around each hardened peak.  Her hands traveled up Jean-Luc's strong arms to his broad shoulders and down the front of his uniform jacket, urgently pulling open the fasteners.  She reached up to push the jacket off the masculine slope of his shoulders.  He stepped back slightly, allowing the jacket to fall to the floor.  He quickly pulled his tunic and tee-shirt off over his head, dropping them to the floor to join his jacket.  Vash took the opportunity to admire the masculine power of his body.  Her eyes drank in the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms.  She rested her hands on his shoulders, thrilling at the breadth of them compared to her tiny palms.  On impulse, she leaned forward and took one of his hardened nipples into her mouth.  Gently taking the nipple between her teeth, she swirled her tongue over it.

 Picard arched his back and moaned aloud at the sensations that raced through his body.  Standing up straight again, he drew back from her slightly.  His hands quickly slid up her torso to find and unhook her brassiere clasp, conveniently located at the center of her enticing cleavage.  He wanted to make sure her arousal level was the same fevered pitch as his own.  Brushing the satin aside, his heated gaze swept over the soft ivory skin and lush roundness of her breasts.  As his hands gripped her tightly around the waist, he lowered his head to imprison one rosy tip with his mouth.  She shuddered as he pulled and teased the taut nipple.

 As his mouth gently tormented first one breast then the other, Vash felt streaks of fire racing through her body from the tender peaks.  A heated moan escaped Vash's lips as her hands slipped off Jean-Luc's shoulders to explore the muscular wall of his chest.  She entangled her fingers in the coarse hair on his chest, feeling the hardened nipples against her palms.  Her hands drifted down the lean tapering lines of his torso to the waistband of his trousers.  She ran her hands over his strong thighs until she found the hard evidence of his desire.  Letting out a small, triumphant sigh, she continued to caress him expertly.

 This time it was Picard who shuddered as he straightened up and quickly tried to control the surge of need that went through him.  He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him.  He could feel the peaks of her breasts pressed into his chest and her small hand caressing him through his trousers.  His free hand rested on the silk of her stocking just above her knee at the hemline of her skirt.  His hand slowly slid up under her skirt to stroke her silk covered thigh.  He lowered his face into the softness of her neck just below her ear.  He wanted to wait until she was as desperate as he was; however, she was definitely pushing the limits of his control.  Half-pleading, half-warning, he whispered in her ear, "Vash."

 "Oh Johnny, you're so hard," she whispered back, swiftly opening his trousers and taking hold of him with an even more insistent touch.  With a groan, Jean-Luc's hand traveled quickly up her thigh to discover the top of her stocking.  She shivered as his hand reached the soft bare skin of her inner thigh.  At last reaching his goal, his hand slipped past her delicate lace panties.  Her hands moved to grip his shoulders as she felt his fingertips brush her desire.  She watched Jean-Luc's eyes widened with surprise as he discovered just how aroused she was.  She arched into his teasing caress, coming even closer to the edge.

 "You're so close," he breathed, almost in awe.

 "Please, Jean-Luc," Vash whimpered, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to arouse her.

 "Come here," he rasped hoarsely, pulling her roughly against him with one arm as the other slashed violently across the desk sending everything crashing to the floor.  Pressing her body backward, he laid Vash on her back on the smooth desk top.  He came down on top of her and his mouth attacked hers in a deep, demanding kiss.  As his tongue plunged into her mouth, his hands thrust her skirt up around her waist and ripped the thin lace panties from her.  He broke the kiss and pulled up to hover her.  With his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he placed himself between her long, shapely legs.  Staring down at her, he entered her with one powerful movement and growled, "You're mine, Vash."

 "Oh yes," Vash moaned as she surrendered herself to Jean-Luc completely, her hips arching up to meet his.  Tremors of release swept through her as he filled her with his first thrust.  Instead of sating her, it added to her already raging need.  He drove into her hard and fast.  Her hands stroked the tightly sculpted muscles of his arms, feeling the powerful muscles ripple and bunch with each thrust.  She matched him motion for motion as he drove deep into her over and over.  She screamed his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her and his body violently plummeted into her own.

 His eyes never left Vash as he took her with abandon.  With her eyes closed, she wore a look of ecstasy on her delicate features.  Her cries of passion spurred him on to even higher heights of desire.  The cadence became one of furious intensity as his body demanded total possession of hers.  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 continued to drive into her relentlessly until he heard and saw what he had been waiting for.  Her fingernails dug into the tense muscles of his biceps as her tiny frame was racked with tremors.  With a primal scream, Vash's head fell back and she arched her entire body up into his.

 "Ma chere," Picard rasped, stressing the possessive.  He made one final powerful thrust, holding himself deep inside her, as his own explosive release consumed him.

 Still braced on his arms hovering over Vash, Picard enjoyed the last few tremors of pleasure as he tried to catch his breath.  Feeling blissfully content, he gazed down at her and counted the few seconds that passed before she started to regain her senses.

 Vash slowly became aware of her surroundings, the smooth desktop under her, the disarray of her clothes, the feel of Jean-Luc's strong damp biceps under her hands and his rough hard thighs pressed against the delicate skin of her inner thighs.  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.  Gasping between breaths, she asked, "Is . . .that . . .what's . . .called . . .a?"

 "La petite morte," Picard supplied the term in a rich, bedroom baritone.  In response to one of her final tremors, he moved deep inside her.  Delighting in her gasp, he answered, "Oui, mademoiselle."

 "I've heard of it," Vash said, still breathless.  She ran her hands over his arms as he held himself off of her.  The muscles of his hardened biceps rippled under her caress. "But I've never actually had it happen until now.  I've never felt anything that intense."

 "I've always wanted to do that to you.  The vision of you completely surrendering yourself like that was incredibly erotic," he admitted softly.  His eyes were drawn to the sight of her blouse and brassiere pushed aside exposing the soft roundness of her breasts.  The lush curves rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath.  "You're so lovely," he murmured as he dipped his head to catch the rosy tip of one of her breasts in his mouth.  Slowly, he swirled his tongue over the peak.

 Vash shuddered and arched into him as he explored the sensitive skin of her breasts with his lips and tongue.  She ran her fingers through the hair at his temples, as he trailed kisses up over her chest and throat to her face.  Just before his lips claimed hers in a gentle but passionate kiss, she whispered, "I'm yours, Jean-Luc."

 Picard kissed her deeply, enjoying the feel of the supple curves of her body beneath him.  Suddenly Vash's words sank in.  He broke the kiss and collapsed against her.  As he replayed the entire evening in his mind, his forehead fell forward to hit the desk next to hers with a gentle thud.  Picard chuckled ruefully at himself, "Well, I certainly treated you to one hell of a display of machoistic bravado tonight."

 Vash sighed happily as she entangled her fingers in the short hair at the base of his neck.  She sounded very amused as she asked him, "So Jean-Luc, what's worse, the fact that you put on the display or the fact that it sent my libido racing at warp nine?"

 "Alright, full reverse," Picard exclaimed, taken by surprise.  Granted, Vash's desire had been unusually high, even for her.  Although he had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, several explanations had crossed his mind.  That was definitely not one of them.  He raised himself up on his arms to look down at her rather confused.  "Are you telling me that you, Miss I-don't-follow-orders, found my behavior today sexually arousing?"

 "Well, . . .yes," Vash admitted shyly as she blushed slightly.  She looked up at him through her lashes.  "Come on, Jean-Luc, if you combine your obvious physical attributes to the way you dropped from that ceiling and took on those terrorists it was like something out of a holothriller.  Every once in a while, a woman just wants to surrender to that type of pure masculine virility."  Vash ran her hands over the corded muscles of his shoulders and arms to emphasize her words.

 "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me exactly when and where these reactions happen?" he asked.

 "I'd love to, darling, really; but I can't.  Well, I could, but then I'd have to kill you.  It's kind of a rule, a woman thing," Vash shrugged and smiled back up at him.

 "Which boils down to I have about a snowball's chance in hell of you giving me a clue," Picard conceded dryly.  He smiled as she tapped her fingertip to her nose.  "I can see you have a lot to learn about the respect due a captain of the Federation flagship, little miss."

 Vash wriggled her hips against him impishly.  "Oh really?  What are you going to do about it, Captain Johnny."

 Picard didn't answer her, instead he pulled back just far enough to flip her over onto her stomach.

 "Jean-Luc, what are you doing?"

 "If you haven't figured that out by now, I must be doing something wrong."  With that, Jean-Luc repositioned himself slightly, and drove himself deep into her from behind.

 "Oh . . .Jean . . .ohhhh," Vash moaned wordlessly pushing herself back against his driving thrusts.  She gripped the edges of the desk for support as Jean-Luc pounded into her, his hips slapping her tender bottom with each thrust.

 "Oh, you like this do you?  Maybe now you'll show some respect for your captain," Picard grunted out between thrusts.  He steadied her hips with one hand while he reached under her with the other one to add to the fire racing through Vash's body.  He could feel her body gripping him with each thrust, creating an incredibly tight, erotic, milking sensation throughout his hips.

 "Oh . . .yes . . .anything . . .YES," Vash screamed out as ripples of pleasure claimed her sweat-dampened body.

 Jean-Luc didn't let up, even as he felt her body twist and tremble with release.  He gripped her hips tightly in his hands to hold her steady as he thrust into her with an ever-increasing urgency.  Even before the shudders of her last release faded, Jean-Luc felt Vash buck up from the desk, pushing herself into him, lost in the throes of an even stronger release than the one before.  The spasms in Vash's body gripped him even tighter.  Suddenly, he pulled her hard against him, slamming into her one final time.  He arched his body as his own powerful release flooded into her still-quivering backside.  He collapsed onto her back and nuzzled her ear.

 "Oh my, . . .that was new."

 "Not really, different, yes, but I don't think we're the first people to ever try that," came his murmured reply as he continued to nuzzle her.

 "Jean-Luc?"

 "Mmm-hmm?"

 "Jean-Luc, this is really erotic and exciting and all, but this desk is getting a bit uncomfortable.  Can we go to bed now?"

 "How adventurous, ma chere.  I was hoping we could try out the dresser next," Jean-Luc responded dryly as he pulled himself, with effort, off of her and helped her to stand up.

 Vash looked around to see all of the contents of Jean-Luc's desk scattered on the floor and her eyes came to rest on the sight of her torn lace panties draped across the stock of his phaser rifle.  "I think we've been adventurous enough for one night, Ubercaptain, why don't we leave the dresser for another night?"

 "If you insist, ma chere," Picard swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

**FINIS**