Secret Dreams by Astra The ground was hard. She was hungry and cold. They were being hunted like criminals. But none of that was keeping her awake. The cause of her insomnia was far worse. Jean-Luc was dreaming again. She turned onto her side and curled in on herself, trying to block out the images that filled her mind, piped in by the telepathic receptor the Prytt had implanted in her. She reached back and touched it gingerly, wishing desperately for an off switch. More graphic images filled her mind and she was knew for damn sure they weren't coming from her. With a groan she shifted again, curling herself tighter and thinking very hard about anything just to try and drown out the sight and sounds of his dreams. It didn't work. Instead of blocking those unwelcome images, her thoughts merged with his, infiltrating his dreams with most unwelcome results. Especially since their forced physical closeness kept intruding. Damn it! She did not want to think about that. Especially not here. Not now. Not like this. Mumblemumbledamnhormonesmumblemumble, she grumbled, turning over again, accidentally brushing against him. His response to the feather touch was instantly and vividly depicted in his dream. Beverly put her hand over her face and moaned quietly, "Just kill me now." Death was not forthcoming, so she lay there, watching her best friend's dreams parade though her mind and trying really hard not to think of anything. But there, in a rebellious corner of her mind, was the taunting thought: Jean-Luc *really* loved his ship. ::end::