Cold Feet
by Astra <astraplain@yahoo.com 

It started with her teasing him, as these things 
usually did.  And as usual, he endured it, then spent 
long moments in quiet contemplation of the proper 
response.  After all, it’s not like he was used to 
being accused of such things.  

Jean-Luc Picard was not a vain man, but neither was 
he foolishly modest.   He knew he was one of 
Starfleet’s finest.  He knew he had a reputation of 
being a fine negotiator and a distinguished diplomat.  
Among the cream of Starfleet elite, there were few 
who could claim more years of distinguished service.  
Even among the best of the captains, there were only 
a handful who could claim to have a battle strategy 
named after them.  No, Jean-Luc Picard was no 
ordinary man and he knew it.

Which is why Beverly’s teasing comment stayed with 
him through breakfast, the staff meeting and a day’s 
worth of tedious duties.  Perhaps if they were on a 
mission, rather than sitting in the middle of yet 
another nebula letting the stellar cartographers 
play, the comment might not have bothered him quite 
so much.

Not that the comment actually bothered him.  He was, 
after all, above such petty considerations.  And it’s 
not like it was a disparagement.  It was just... 
annoying. So he thought about it - a lot - and 
finally came up with the proper response.  All 
that was left now was waiting for the right time.

*****

They shared a late dinner that night, Jean-Luc having 
learned early to stay out of Beverly’s way on play 
rehearsal nights.  Beverly had a most disconcerting 
way of recruiting everyone within earshot and he knew 
better than to pretend he’d be excused because of his 
rank.  As far as she was concerned - it gave him more 
reason to help construct sets or serve as stand in 
while the "real actors" did more important things.

She arrived at his quarters with her hair 
delightfully mussed, and the air of having 
accomplished great things.  Jean-Luc was delighted.  
She was always so… uninhibited on nights like this.  
Perfect.

They lingered over dinner, then retired to the sofa 
for wine and conversation.  They talked long into the 
night, then proceeded together into his bedroom.  He 
didn't even need to attempt seduction tonight.  She 
joyfully and oh so skillfully took the lead, leaving 
him breathless and trembling.  It was almost enough 
to make him change his plans.  But not quite.

Hours later, in the early morning, when he was sure 
she was comfortably sleeping, he carefully reached 
over and eased up her scanty nightgown, letting his 
fingers trail with the lightest touch over her skin.  
She sighed contentedly and continued to sleep proving 
yet again that she was not a morning person.  

Jean-Luc smiled slightly.  Perfect.  This was working 
better than he planned.  Now if he could just… there.  
The scant gown was now safely out of his way, leaving 
her delightful backside bare.  He adjusted the 
blanket, careful to keep her warm.  Beverly was very 
sensitive to temperature changes and merely shifting 
the blanket had been known to wake her.  

He stopped a moment, just looking at her.  She was so 
beautiful, so peaceful.  Nothing on that placid face 
betrayed the wicked sense of humor she deviled him 
with so often.  So very often.

Tearing his eyes away from her, Jean-Luc shifted 
slightly in the bed, turning away from her scorching 
hot flesh until his back was to her, delighting in 
the coolness of the sheets in this new location.  He 
drew his legs up, careful not to disturb her.
There.  Better.

Finding a comfortable position, he closed his eyes 
again, relaxed his body and…

*Now!*

With one swift movement he pressed the soles of his 
feet to her exposed back, counted to three and was 
rewarded with an startled shriek as Beverly leapt out 
of bed.

*Cold feet indeed.*

::: end :::