Note: Get a bucket of artic water ready. This story takes place immediately after the events of "The Fire Goddess," and let's make it post-Generations, too, just for the hell of it. I revised it from its earlier version. This one does not embarrass me nearly as much. ;-) Got your water? Okay, here we go..................!

MLA22@aol.com

1.

Jean-Luc Picard turned his head on the pillow and chanced a look at the woman lying beside him. He still could not believe he wasn't dreaming or, at the very least, fantasizing. At the beginning of this evening he never would have guessed that it would end the way it had. His relationship with Beverly had taken an unexpected, yet long overdue, turn tonight and he was glad of it. And all because of that myth. He chuckled to himself and glanced at the book of T'treinan mythology still lying on the floor where he had tossed it when Beverly had knelt on his bed and kissed him. Fire goddess, indeed he thought, for the woman was incredible. He had spent nearly a quarter of a century fantasizing about what it would be like to make love to her and nothing his extremely vivid imagination could conjure up even came close to the actual experience. Four times this night she had nearly destroyed him with her passion. She was bold, vigorous, aggressive, and oh, so responsive. Memories came crashing back into his mind and his body stirred.

Beverly lay on her stomach next to him, sleeping peacefully. Her flaming hair was spread out over the pillows with some of it resting on her smooth, exposed back. He gazed at that skin, so soft and silky, and couldn't resist the urge to run his tongue along the line of her spine. Jean-Luc decided that if she was the fire goddess and possessing her one more time meant dying in her passionate, naked embrace, then Will Riker could be Captain tomorrow because he meant to ignite this woman's passion again. Right now.

Moving carefully, he straddled her legs and placed his hands on either side of her. She stirred and he heard a gasp escape her lips as he nibbled on the tender flesh at the small of her back.

"Jean-Luc," she said into the pillow.

"Yes?"

"I'm tired. I need to sleep."

He smiled and continued to nuzzle at her waist. He eased the sheet away from the lower half of her body, out of the way of his questing hand. She shivered in anticipation as his fingers made their way up between her parted thighs.

"Jean-Luc," she said.

"Yes?"

She gasped again as his fingers made contact. "Yes."

2.

Captain Picard looked around the bridge of his ship and scowled.

"This was not a good idea," he mumbled.

His hand moved to his communicator to get Riker back up here where he belonged, but then he dismissed the thought. No, he had told his First Officer to go have fun, to enjoy himself with the rest of the crew. Picard would mind the store. "Go on, Will. Everyone, go. Enjoy yourselves," he had said to them. "I'll be fine. This ship can run itself." And then he'd let them go. Ninety-nine percent of the ship's population was now enjoying shore leave on Kirsa, while the Enterprise's Captain orbited the planet on the empty bridge of a near empty vessel and cursed himself for having sent all his underlings off to play while he baby-sat the ship.

He had only been up here for an hour and, at first, he had tended to things, moving from station to station making sure that all was well. But that soon grew tedious and, besides, it was unnecessary. The truth of the matter was that the ship really could run itself. The main computer had control of everything and the most difficult thing the ship was doing now was orbiting a planet, and even that was routine. Hence, Jean-Luc was bored out of his skull.

He picked up his Ressikaan flute from the pile of discarded things-to-do sitting in Riker's chair. He moved it to his lips to play then decided not to, tossing it back on the chair along with the data padds, Shakespeare volume, and archaeology journals.

He leaned back in his chair and called for the computer to play some music. The selection he chose wasn't by coincidence. He had watched Beverly dance to this music on the holodeck the night before. He closed his eyes and remembered the way she had moved, how her long, graceful legs had twirled and kicked and leapt with such power and precision. Picard remembered her sinewy arms moving through the air in intricate patterns and the gentle slope of her elegant neck as she danced. Her neck. If there was one thing that he had learned since he was first intimate with Beverly Crusher some ten weeks ago was that he loved her neck. It was long and slender and perfect. The skin there felt twice as silky and tasted twice as sweet as the rest of her. He loved the way she gasped when he kissed her there and he loved the way her hair clung to her skin when it was damp with sweat. The contrast between her red hair and the creamy buttermilk of her skin drove him crazy. He could bury his face in the flesh of her neck forever.

Jean-Luc sat straight up in his chair and barked an order at the computer to kill the music. Sitting here thinking about Beverly was getting him aroused and he knew that she was on the planet's surface partying with the rest of the crew. He cursed himself again. He should have gone with her and made Riker watch over the ship.

He flopped back against his chair and said, "Merde."

"Well, aren't you crabby today?" a very familiar voice rang out from the back of the bridge.

Jean-Luc jumped out of his chair and spun to face her.

Beverly was coming down the ramp, smiling at him mischievously, and looking absolutely fabulous. Her hair was pulled atop her head in a loose bun with long strands cascading down over her neck and shoulders. She wore a short midnight blue dress made of silk with thin straps that criss-crossed on her bare back. The dress flared at the hips and with every step that she took the hem flipped up slightly to reveal a flash of her thighs. Jean-Luc's breath quickened at the sight of her looking so provocative on the bridge. His mind barely registered that she carried a picnic basket.

Beverly approached him and leaned forward to place a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek. He looked a little stunned so she asked, "Are you okay?"

It took him a minute to realize that she had spoken. He stammered his answer. "Yes, I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

She placed the basket on Troi's chair and set about spreading the blanket she'd brought out on the floor in front of the command area. "I was down on the Kirsa at the fair when I saw Will. He said that you had sent everyone down to shore leave and that you were up here alone with a skeleton crew for the day." She began to unpack the basket. "I thought you'd be lonely and bored. I guess I was right." A smile lit her face.

As much as Jean-Luc loved the idea of spending the day with her, he didn't want to make her sit up here on the bridge with him when she could be having fun on the planet. He was about to tell her so when she moved forward and covered his lips with her own.

"I wasn't having any fun without you there," she whispered against him.

His arms came up around her as he deepened the kiss. After a few moments she pulled back murmuring, "Jean-Luc, lunch."

Reluctantly, he let her go and sat down on the blanket opposite her. He surveyed the spread before him: two bottles of champagne, glasses, sandwiches, plump red strawberries and a small container of whipped cream.

He popped the cork on one of the bottles of champagne and resigned to control himself. He was the Captain of the Federation Flagship and his behavior had to be in accordance with that position. There was a certain dignity and decorum to that post and he had always upheld it. But damn if he wasn't having the most wicked of thoughts as he watched Beverly Crusher across the blanket from him, busily devouring her lunch.

His eyes followed every move she made, drinking in the sight of her. She had removed her sandals and was sitting Indian-style, her dress tucked between her legs and exposing the majority of her thighs. Jean-Luc swallowed hard and went to pour himself another glass of the cold champagne, thinking it would help him suppress his desire. Soon the whole bottle was gone and he was no better off than before he started.

Beverly polished off the last of her lunch and began putting the remains back in the basket on the chair until all that remained was the other bottle of champagne and the strawberries and whipped cream.

She picked up a strawberry, now very aware of Jean-Luc's scrutiny. She recognized that look in his eyes. It wasn't leering or perverse, but it held every ounce of his lust. It made his hazel eyes slightly cloudy, made his jaw slightly loose. Beverly was surprised... and excited. It was very unlike Jean-Luc to be expressing an emotion such as this anywhere but in the privacy of one of their quarters. That was something the she had learned since becoming intimate with him: he would not allow that intimacy to extend beyond the confines of the bedroom. Everywhere else on the ship, he treated her the same way he had before they'd made love that first time. Even when they were alone, in the ready room, in her office, or in the conference lounge, he maintained a respectable distance, never hinting that they had become lovers. Beverly knew that he wasn't ashamed of their new relationship. This was just his way of not offering public confirmation of what the whole crew already suspected. She had not been offended and had gone along with it.

They'd settled into a routine in which they were freely intimate when alone, but were politely distant when they were not. They had complied with this even when they were alone in a public place. So it shocked her now that Jean-Luc was staring at her with undisguised lust on the main bridge of his ship!

But lust he did, and the more he stared, the more aroused Beverly became. Thoughts, terribly wicked and dangerous thoughts traveled through her mind. And she told herself that it wasn't proper, that they would get caught, that this was the MAIN BRIDGE for goodness sakes! But the look in his eyes, the slight unsteadiness of his breathing, his mouth, his hand holding the champagne glass... Beverly couldn't control herself. She really couldn't.

She picked up a strawberry and rolled it in the whipped cream. Slowly she brought it to her lips and seductively slid her tongue over the berry, licking up all the cream. She watched Jean-Luc's face and saw that his lust-filled eyes were focused on her mouth. She smiled around the berry between her lips and purposefully began to suckle it. Jean-Luc's eyes widened slightly, his breathing quickening.

Beverly let her gaze travel down his body. He wasn't in uniform, opting for a soft green shirt and khaki pants. Through these pants she could see his steadily growing erection. As much as she wanted to help him to alleviate his arousal, she came to the conclusion that enough was enough. She'd already taken a chance teasing the Captain into an advanced state of arousal on the bridge and although they were the only two people here now, they could very well have company at any time. It was time to let Jean-Luc off the hook.

Unceremoniously, she popped the fruit into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

"You know, Jean-Luc," she said steadily, "you're missing one hell of a fair on Kirsa."

He blinked slowly. Beverly might have switched gears, but she'd left Jean-Luc behind. He was still thinking about her lips and tongue moving over that strawberry.

"Really?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, I'll tell you all about it. Maybe we can go tomorrow."

"Yes, that would be lovely," he said more coherent now, to Beverly's relief.

She noticed their empty glasses and reached for the bottle of champagne. She tried the corkscrew but the cork was stuck in the bottle. She struggled with it for a few more seconds before giving up and handing it to Jean-Luc.

He moved to his knees on the blanket and took the bottle from her. He couldn't get the cork to budge either. He gave the bottle back to her and said, "You hold the bottle and I'll pull the cork."

"Okay."

Beverly grasped the champagne bottle in both hands while Jean-Luc grasped the corkscrew. He pulled on the cork and, in order to keep her grasp, she pulled on the bottle. The cork resisted for a few seconds, then, as if it had a mind of its own, it popped out. Both Jean-Luc and Beverly fell backward and the champagne erupted out of the bottle. She caught most of it under her chin and all over her throat. Champagne soaked the front of her dress from the chest down. Even her thighs were dripping with the bubbly liquid.

Jean-Luc sat up on the blanket and stared at his companion and his eyes went wide. The champagne caused her dress to cling to her breasts in the most seductive way. He tried not to stare but couldn't help himself. His desires had been rekindled by the sight.

For her part, Beverly was retrieving napkins from the picnic basket and cursing under her breath. She looked positively annoyed and even that excited him.

He moved next to her on the blanket and took the napkins from her hands. She looked at him quizzically.

"You look like you need some help drying off," he said softly and began to blot the liquid off her shoulder and down her chest. She didn't protest. His heart was pounding wildly and his hands trembled each time he touched her, but he moved on, gently blotting away the champagne that clung to her chest, shoulders, and neck.

Her neck. It was soaked with the wine causing locks of her hair to become trapped on her skin the way he loved. Vivid flashbacks of making love to her and of the taste of her neck claimed his mind. His hand shook and he dropped the napkin as he stared at her lovely throat.

Jean-Luc was fighting an inner battle. He kept telling himself over and over that this was not the proper place for such activities as the ones he was presently contemplating. Why, they could get caught. Someone could walk in on them at anytime. He and Beverly had struggled for eight years to keep the closeness of their friendship from the prying eyes of the crew, how would it look if the Captain and chief medical officer were caught having sex on the main bridge? The embarrassment would be unbearable. No, Jean-Luc, he told himself. You have to stop this.

But his body wasn't paying any attention to the rational thoughts of his mind. Truthfully speaking, making love with Beverly on the bridge of his ship had been a fantasy of his for several years. It was one of those far-fetched fantasies that one never, ever expects to be in a position to make reality. And yet here he was: alone with Beverly on the bridge, with almost everyone on the ship attending a fair down on the planet below and won't be returning for another several hours. There was a slight chance that they could get caught, but that was exciting too, wasn't it?

Body won out over mind and Jean-Luc pulled Beverly close to him and buried his face in the moistened skin of her neck.

She gasped as his lips and tongue assaulted her sensitive skin. Desire moved over her in waves. She couldn't believe that he was doing this. But she was powerless to stop him, shackled by her own arousal, so she gave in to it just as he had. She wrapped her arms around him and let her head fall backwards to give him free access to her throat.

He moaned delighted with her acquiescence. His hand came up to her hair where he removed the barrette that held it in place. The coppery locks cascaded down around her bare shoulders as Jean-Luc made his way from her neck to the thin straps of her dress. With his teeth he moved one strap off her shoulder then licked and sucked across both of her collarbones to the other strap where he did the same. The thin fabric still clung to the skin of her breasts because of the champagne. As he dipped his head lower into her cleavage he could taste it flavoring her even more delicious flesh. He gently peeled the dress away with his fingers to reveal her breasts, firm, perfectly shaped, and tipped with the very erect pink nipples. Jean-Luc fought the urge to take one of those peaks into his mouth. Instead, he ran his tongue along the length of the valley between her breasts and delighted at the way Beverly clung to him and gasped his name.

Her hands were clutching his shoulders but he took his time. With agonizing slowness, he kissed each of her breasts deeply, sucking on sections of the flesh but being careful to avoid her nipples. He was saving them for last. He moved over and over her breasts for an eternity, the slight roughness of his tongue against the smooth skin sending jolts of desire through her entire being. And on and on he went, moving from one full breast to the other with his mouth, his hands gently caressing her back and shoulders. He moved closer and closer to her hard nipple, touching the pink area around it with the tip of his tongue. He retreated and looked up at her face. Her blue eyes were locked onto his, blazing with her passion, and if there were any more doubts in his mind about the actions that he was taking, they were abolished by that look.

He captured the nipple between his teeth and ran his tongue over it in long tantalizing strokes. She shook and cried out, her hands grasping his head and pulling him closer. He repeated the movement again and again until her breath hitched unevenly in her chest. He turned his attention to her other breast, relishing it with the same exquisite care. One hand moved down her body to rest on her thigh. Lifting the dress away, he moved his fingers in patterns over the skin, easing his way to her inner thigh. As he moved farther and farther between her legs he began to feel the wet heat emanating from her and he thought he would explode with desire.

He grasped her about the waist, got up on his knees and lifted her from the floor, setting her on the command chair. Jean-Luc was now kneeling in front of Beverly, looking up at her. She sat in his chair, her hands clutching the arms, staring at him and wondering what he was going to do next. A little smile curled at his lips and he tore his eyes away from her face and focused on her bare and slightly parted knees in front of him.

He clasped her knees in his hands, rubbing slowly, then bent to kiss them. They were light, teasing kisses with just the smallest flick of his tongue. He pushed her legs together with his hands and bent over her lap, kissing and nibbling the tops of her thighs. Beverly, impatient as always, reached out and pulled her dress up to her waist to clear his path. He smiled against her skin.

Jean-Luc walked his fingers up the sides of her now shaking thighs until he reached the waistband of the lacy black panties she wore. Hooking his fingers over the sides he tugged them toward him. Beverly lifted her hips off the chair and he whisked the undergarment down her legs and tossed it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. He resumed his previous activities, kissing and licking his way up her thighs. When her reached her hipbone he paused to suckle, causing her to squirm in the chair. He moved back down her thigh until he reached her knees again. Still holding her legs together, he ran his tongue along the crevice created by her closed thighs. He moved slowly, savoring the sweet taste of her skin mixed with the champagne. He moved up farther and farther but paused before he reached the nest of coppery curls.

He looked up at her with a devilish look in his eyes. Beverly held her breath.

Slowly, very slowly, he parted her legs with his hands, lightly caressing her inner thighs, before he lifted her legs and hooked them over his shoulders. She collapsed back into the chair, knowing what would come next, her hands closing over his shoulders. Beverly wanted nothing more than to pull him to her, but she knew Jean-Luc's lovemaking. He always moved at his own pace.

He moved slowly down her thigh, closer and closer, until she could feel his breath washing over her. Her thighs shook uncontrollably on his shoulders and he grasped her hips to steady her before he reached out with a tender kiss.

Beverly shrieked at the contact and he paused to allow her to settle down. When she had stilled, he leaned into her again, this time with his tongue. Again, she trembled, but he didn't stop. His mouth moved over her with precision, his tongue flicking out and finding the sensitive core of her being, claiming it ruthlessly. He concentrated on that area, taking in gently between his teeth, sucking it between his lips. Beverly writhed in the command chair, her head moving from side to side, her hands gripping his shoulders with bruising intensity.

She was close to orgasm, he could tell as she cried out his name. So he pulled back, denying her this pleasure until he could join her in it. Her eyes widened as he pulled away from her and she looked at him incredulously as he placed her feet back on the deck and stood in front of her.

"J-Jean-Luc," she breathed. She was having trouble forming coherent thought. What the hell was he doing?

He nearly laughed at the look on her face as he pulled her to stand on her trembling legs. She put her arms around him and pulled his mouth down onto hers. Frustrated and thoroughly aroused, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, tangling seductively with his. Her anxious hands traveled down his firm abdomen to grasp his erection through his pants. He groaned into her mouth. Deftly, she opened the fastening to his pants and pushed them down out of her way. Finally, she freed him and closed her eager hands over his hardened penis, squeezing gently. His eyes fluttered closed.

Without breaking their kiss, she stroked him with her fingers. Over and over, her hand moved over him with practiced ease. She reveled in the smoothness of the skin, in the length of him, in the thickness. Incredibly, he hardened even more against her palm and her legs trembled in anticipation.

Jean-Luc moved his hand under one of her thighs and lifted to wrap her leg around his waist. Beverly gasped and released his manhood to move her arms around his neck. Jean-Luc braced himself and grasped her other thigh, lifting her completely off the deck. The leg came to twine around his waist as she clung to him tightly.

With one hand between them, Beverly guided his hardness to her and used her powerful legs to pull him forward and into her.

He entered easily as she took the whole glorious length of him in one thrust.

They stood still for several seconds adjusting to the feel of each other. He marveled at the wet heat of her surrounding him. His legs began to tremble and he knew that he had better sit down before they fell down.

He maneuvered them over the command chair and eased them into it. He thumbed the release mechanism on for the arms of the chair and lifted them up and out of the way. Beverly's legs came down on the sides, so that her toes were flat against the deck. She grabbed hold of the back of the chair and looked directly into his eyes as she began to move.

Slowly, deliciously, she drew herself backwards on his lap almost to the point of losing contact with him completely. He shuddered and gasped, his eyes watering as tiny tingles of pleasure washed over his body. He reached out and took hold of her hips, pulling her back to him, sliding himself into her heat once more. She bent to kiss him, running her tongue over his lips, then dipping inside, penetrating him as he penetrated her. She moved her body outward, then let him guide her back, his thrust moving his hardness deep within her. Beverly mimicked the movement with her tongue. She thrust deep into his mouth each time he thrust himself deep into her. And Jean-Luc gladly received, opening his mouth to her and sucking at her tongue each time it darted between his lips.

They moved like this for an eternity until their kiss finally broke as their pace quickened, became more urgent. They moved faster, the thrusts just as long as before but much more rapid, much more demanding. Passion claimed them both and they sought for its release. Soft moans and whispered endearments gave way to animalistic grunts and heavy-throated cries as they slammed against each other, trying impossibly to get closer.

Her hands dug into the cushion on the back of the chair as she pumped herself up and down his penis and perspiration glistened on every inch of her exposed skin. Her hair clung to her face, neck, and shoulders like rivers of fire. But still she moved harder and, somehow, faster and he helped her, grasping her hips so hard that he was sure that he was hurting her. But she didn't seem to care. Beverly relished in every sensation his body was giving her, ready to bask in the joy that came with passion's release.

And then it started.

Just like the first time they had made love, heat emanated from her. Her face flushed and then the pinkish color traveled down her neck to her shoulders. It moved over her breasts and over her flat stomach, and down her thigh to her legs and feet. Her skin grew hot to the touch and her eyes slid shut. And still she moved.

With each shattering thrust inside, he could feel her heating up around him, the signal that her orgasm was approaching, and Jean-Luc felt a tiny prickle of fear. He told himself over and over, just as he had that first night they were together and every subsequent night after that, that it was just a myth. There was no such thing as a fire goddess. No such thing.

But his experience with Beverly belied this highly rational thought. She had turned into living flame as she gyrated along his lap. Everything about her was aflame and, as he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside of her, he felt that he was being scalded by the liquid heat. It wasn't pain. It was pleasure so intense that it was almost painful. Almost.

Heat radiated from her and enveloped him and he felt the first of spasmodic contractions of her inner muscles begin to seize him. She quivered around him and every muscle in her body began to tense. It was time.

Jean-Luc moved one hand between them and sought the source of the goddess's fire. He found it, that super-sensitive trigger, and with a few knowing strokes of his fingers, she erupted in the most powerful orgasm he'd ever seen her have.

Beverly thrust herself down on his hard manhood and stayed there, holding him deep inside. Her hands lost their grip on the chair, but found his muscular shoulders, her fingernails biting into his skin. Her head flew backward on her slender neck sending tendrils of damp, flaming hair down her arched back. She cried out as wave after wave of pleasure descended upon her, carrying her up and away, and dragging Jean-Luc along with her.

His own climax began with the gripping contractions of her inner walls around him. The heat was unbearable, incredible, and gloriously wonderful and he couldn't control himself any longer. With her final thrust, he exploded with her. Pleasure the likes of which he had never imagined invaded him and every cell in his body seemed to feel it. He hugged her to him, his mouth seeking her neck one final time. Spasm after spasm of pleasure roared through him and it was only because he was biting into the side of her neck that his triumphant cry of release was muffled.

They held on to each other as the pleasure began to subside. Their breathing became less erratic and the tense muscles began to relax. After several moments, the gentle shudders of residual passion died away and left them in a tender, loving embrace.

Beverly kissed Jean-Luc's cheek and caressed his head. "I love you," she whispered.

He hugged her tightly, massaging her back gently. "I love you."

She smiled and again placed her lips on his cheek. "Jean-Luc?"

"Hmm."

"We'd better get up before someone walks in here."

The Captain's head snapped up and he looked about him as if he'd forgotten just where he was.

Thankfully, the bridge was still empty. They had not been caught, or at least he hoped not. He wouldn't have noticed if the entire bridge crew was present a few minutes ago. Hell, he wouldn't have cared. But he knew that this was way too dangerous. He'd probably kick any other member of the crew off his ship for engaging in such brazen activities as this. It would not look good if he were caught with his pants down (literally) in the command chair with the half-naked chief medical officer straddling his lap.

He pulled the straps of her dress up over her shoulders, covering the upper portion of her body. He sighed a little sadly at that and Beverly smacked him playfully. Putting his hands on her waist he helped her to stand, both gasping slightly as the contact between them was broken. She took a step on wobbly legs and nearly stumbled.

"Okay?" he asked with concern. He hoped he hadn't hurt her.

She smiled and worked out the kinks in her muscles. "I'm fine. I was just in that position longer than I thought."

"Oh."

He stood and pulled his pants up. He just had them fastened when the turbolift door swished open.

Jean-Luc and Beverly froze.

Lieutenant Commander Data strode onto the bridge and stopped dead in his tracks at the scene before him. Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher were a mess; both sticky with sweat, her hair was mussed, his shirt torn, pants clinging to him. And their faces! They had both gone absolutely pale at the sight of him. Data became concerned.

"Captain, Doctor," he began, approaching them, "is everything all right?"

Picard recovered enough to answer the question while is lover bent down to scoop up the remains of the picnic and shoved it into the basket. Only he heard her curse under her breath.

"Yes, Data, everything is fine. Why aren't you on the planet?"

"Ah, well, Commander Riker suggested that one of us come up here to relieve you," he said indicating the command chair. "I had no idea that Dr. Crusher had already accomplished the task."

"She most certainly did," the Captain muttered with a grin. The double meaning of the android's innocent statement was too much to resist. His comment earned him a hard pinch to the side.

"Ow!"

Beverly shot him a cross look before she turned to Data and said, "Actually, Data, I was just keeping him company. Thanks for coming up; we'll both be leaving now." With that she tugged Jean-Luc toward the turbolift.

Data was slightly puzzled by their strange behavior. He shrugged and was about to sit in the command chair when he spotted a bit of something lying on the floor between the conn and ops stations. He bent to retrieve it.

It was a pair of a woman's lace panties. How odd.

"Dr. Crusher!" he called out.

She and Picard froze halfway up the ramp to the 'lift. They looked back at him as held the undergarment out to her. Her eyes widened enormously and then her whole face turned pink.

"Does this belong to you?" he asked.

"Ah--yeah." Beverly snatched the panties from him so fast that Data checked to make sure he still had all his fingers. She returned to the Captain, whose cheeks were now a pink that rivaled hers.

In a nanosecond, the variables whirled through Data's positronic brain: their state of dishevel, their shock at his presence, their embarrassment, Dr. Crusher's missing undergarment, and the fact that they had been up here alone for two and a half hours. His neural net came up with the only plausible explanation and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

The lovers blanched as they watched the android put two and two together. Beverly thought she would faint at the sight of his little grin.

The Captain stepped forward. "Uh, Data--" he began.

But the android cut him off with a staying hand.

"Do not worry, sir," he said solemnly. "Your secret is safe with me. I will not tell."

Jean-Luc exchanged a nervous glance with Beverly. Then she nodded her approval that they trust the android. They didn't have a choice. Besides, she thought, If he breathes a word to anyone, I'll break him apart, piece by piece. She let the menace of the thought show on her face, hoping that Data would get the idea. He nodded in her direction indicating that he did.

They turned to leave, but stopped once again as Data said, "I do have one comment, sirs."

They turned to him expectantly.

"It is about time."

They looked at him incredulously and then, despite themselves, Jean-Luc and Beverly laughed.

Whew!!! Enjoy? I'm glad.