Beetlejuice at CONvergence!

Frustrated, I tossed my red hair and punched the down button on the elevator. I knew something was bothering BJ, but he just wouldn't talk about it. Always making a joke or changing the subject instead of just getting it out. I didn't want to force the issue, but when you keep so much bottled up inside, there were bound to be consequences. The doors of the elevator opened with a slight hiss, and I looked down to see if there was anything obstructing them, but nothing was there. Shrugging my shoulders, I got on and faced the doors. "Lobby," I said aloud when the doors had closed. Nothing happened, and the elevator just stayed there, of course. Giving myself a mental shake, I pressed the "L" button on the wall. The lift immediately began descending.

I wish I knew how to help him. I hadn't seen anyone in more denial since Wesley was diagnosed with Roddenberry-Berman Syndrome. When Jack heard that our son would be brilliant, but trapped in an unrealistically naïve, bookish, socially-awkward and hormonally-deficient consciousness for most of his life, Jack went a little crazy and started acting like Jim Kirk for a whole week insisting that nothing was wrong. Well, maybe I'd seen *one* person in more denial... and as a medical professional, it was probably time that I did something about it.

"Main Bridge," I corrected, and felt the turbolift change its path to move sideways toward the front of the ship. The lift slowed and opened onto the main bridge of the Enterprise. Data was at the Ops console running diagnostics on god knows what, Riker was on the upper deck at Weapons leaning down over a display panel with his feet four feet apart for some reason. I really needed to check him for back pain... and probably a raging case of Risan Herpes, knowing him. Deanna had her back to me, but I could look down to see her hands primly clasped on her knee, her upper arms pressing her cleavage together in her non-regulation, blue, asymmetrical-neckline-dress uniform, and suddenly it became clear why Riker decided he needed to check Weapons because he had a prime view of the goods from up there. I wished those two would just bone and get it over with, already. Honestly.

"Doctor," Jean Luc said, clearing his throat and tugging down his uniform as he stood from the Captain's chair. My mouth twitched, and I bit the side of my cheek to keep from laughing. Despite protocol, he always stood when I entered the bridge. "Did you have any findings to report on the Rigelian hibernation cycle study?" he asked, as if the fate of the quadrant depended upon a bunch of sleeping Rigelians.

"No, Jean Luc. I actually had something else to discuss with you... a matter of some delicacy," I said, smoothly.

"Very well," Jean Luc said, nodding once and tugging his uniform down again. "I will be in my Ready Room. Number One, you have the bridge." Riker acknowledged the order and I followed Jean Luc to his small office adjoining the bridge, ignoring Deanna's wide-eyed expression as I passed her. No doubt her emotional empathic abilities had picked up my intentions for my discussion with the Captain.

The dim lights created an intimate mood that never quite fit the form and function of a Captain's Ready Room, but I didn't mind. They were actually perfect for what I had planned. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot," Jean Luc barked to the replicator.

"Computer, belay that order. Chateaux Picard, two glasses," I countermanded.

Jean Luc's eyebrows raised, but he said nothing and went to sit behind his desk, tugging down his uniform again as I took the synthesized glasses of wine from his family vineyard from the replicator. Knowing he expected me to sit properly in a chair across the desk from him, I instead walked next to his chair and leaned back against the desk and handed him the wine. He was doing his best to maintain his composure, but he held the glass awkwardly as if it was an alien artifact. "Doctor... we are on duty. This is hardly—"

"Jean Luc, this has to stop. As your doctor, and as your friend, I can't just sit by and watch anymore."

"Of what, precisely, are you speaking?" he asked, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with my closeness and sitting straighter than a corseted woman in his chair.

"You have become pathologically repressed, Jean Luc," I said, taking a sip of wine and moving my bottom along the desk until I was leaning on it directly in front of him. I'd be standing between his legs, if he hadn't crossed them primly. It usually looked elegant when he crossed his legs, but now he was so nervous, it reminded me of Data when he... well, when he did anything, really.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, trying to sound affronted.

"You are repressed," I said slowly, emphasizing each word. "It's unhealthy. You are a Starfleet captain in the prime of his life and you've had less sex in 10 years than Jim Kirk had in 48 minutes."

"That is preposterous, Doctor. Many people in good health feel no need to have sexual relations at all, and as for James Kirk, times were different then, and he was a notorious—"

"You're so repressed that you actually need an empath by your side on the bridge because you don't trust your perceptions in emotionally complex command situations," I said, putting my toes lightly up on his chair, practically straddling him from a distance.

He cleared his throat repeatedly before responding, "I'll have you know that Counselor Troi is uniquely qualif—"

I leaned forward until our faces were inches apart and whispered, "You're a Frenchman who's so repressed that you've developed a British accent." At that, Jean Luc's handsome face slackened and his mouth fell open, but no sound came out. "Drink your wine," I said, not unkindly.

Looking stunned, Jean Luc uncrossed his legs, leaned back in his chair and drained his glass. Sighing, he shook his head, "I always told myself that it was dedication to duty... that I was sparing a partner the emotional strain and uncertainty of life on a galaxy-class starship..."

"And what of me?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"I... I told myself it was out of respect for Jack Crusher that—"

"That you would let his young widow fade into celibate oblivion because that's what he would want for her in his absence?"

"Well, not in so many words, but yes... and Wesley was always there... and he's just so... sometimes I just want to—" he said, holding up his hands in front of him, as if throttling an invisible teenage boy after he smugly solved some impossible problem based upon nothing more than what appeared to be intuition.

"All the more reason I could use a hard cock, now and then, right? We only live another 60 years or so, Jean Luc, if you were planning on having any lusty memories to warm you in your old age, the time to make them is now. So, shall I treat your condition as a Frenchman or as a Brit?" I asked.

I watched him lift his glass to drink again, only be disappointed that the glass was already empty. Glancing up at me, he made a wry face and asked, "Is there a difference?"

"Well, for one of them, I'll start out by spanking you after making you wear my panties, but I won't tell you which one that is," I said.

Appearing to make up his mind, Jean Luc met my eyes, nodded, stood and reached his hand inside my jacket, stroking up the curve of my hip and into the dip of my waist, and leaning in until our cheeks brushed, "I believe I shall forego that honor, Beverly," he murmured.

"Vive la difference..." I smirked and began humming Les Marseillais, as his lips covered mine.

I shivered secretly at the intimacy of his touch... it had been so long since anyone had touched me like this, not like a doctor, or a mother, but as a lover. His mouth, always so controlled and commanding, became soft and hungry against mine. He reached up and cupped my face in his hands, then sliding them back into my hair and clenching softly, like he had wanted to do it for years. Pulling away, his eyes poured over my face with a look of intensity and promise that sent my heart racing. "Computer, attire Doctor Crusher in nothing but an emerald-green silk kimono decorated with... peonies," he said, watching appreciatively as my uniform morphed into the loose robe.

"Hm... you've put some thought into this, I see," I said, twinkling at him when his hand slipped inside and brushed against my breast.

"You have no idea..." he murmured, bending down to nip where the opening in the kimono exposed my collarbone.

"Computer, dress Jean Luc in the Robin Hood costume that Q made him wear... without the tights," I said, grinning as his uniform vanished, to be replaced by an olive-green leather tunic, hat and greaves. Jean Luc looked horrified and opened his mouth to object, but I quickly interrupted, "Computer, I'll need the goatee, too," I added, purring with satisfaction when I saw the facial hair appear on Jean Luc's perturbed face.

His mouth closed and twisted and he shook his head with a smile in his eyes. "I would not have guessed it all these years, but you are utterly perverse," he said, with more lust than condemnation.

"What? You looked good in it... and you know you have great legs," I said, craning over to look at them.

Jean Luc suddenly reached down and swept my long pale white legs up into his arms, leaning me back onto his desk. The robe fell open at my hips, exposing my sex to him completely. "I've always thought yours were exquisite... as damnably little as I saw of them," he said, stretching one ankle up to his shoulder, as he ran his fingers lightly down my skin until they reached my pussy and toyed with the soft red curls there.

I jumped at the feel of his hand, leisurely exploring my wet slit. Jack had never taken his time like this, always rushed and frenzied in his passion for me, but of course we were young, in love, and completely without technique. This was something else entirely... something almost terrifying. Jean Luc had complete control, complete focus. I could see him choose each motion and touch with the precision of a diamond cutter, his satisfaction coming from watching me lose myself to him... and lose myself, I did.

He growled a noise of appreciation as his fingers slipped into me, exploring my body from the inside. Transfixed, I watched him slowly push them deep inside me until his hand disappeared into my curls again. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," he said, slowly pulling his fingers out of me. A small noise escaped me when he put his wet fingers into his mouth and sucked on them while holding my eyes with his. Jack had never even considered tasting my arousal, but Jean Luc's dark eyes dilated as he did it and then looked down between my legs, as if hungry for more.

He took my ankle from his shoulder and, bending my leg, he put my heel down on the edge of his desk, spreading my legs widely as he got to his knees and feasted his eyes on my sex. I began shaking with anticipation, craning my neck to see his face half-obscured with the fluff of red hair between my legs. "You don't deserve this, you know," he said, lifting his amused eyes to my lust-glazed ones. "Years of making me pretend to enjoy those ghastly odd breakfasts together, when we both wanted something far more... simple..." he murmured, lowering his face and wrapping his lips around my clitoris and sucking it into his mouth. I wasn't prepared for the sensation. Honestly, I had no idea. I always thought I needed a lust-crazed man pounding away inside me for a good while before I would be ready to orgasm, but the feel of Jean Luc's mouth making love to me virtually sent me into a fit of shaking bliss... until it stopped.

"You know, I really do think you should apologize..." he said, lifting his face from my quivering pussy and leaning it against my inner thigh, as if pondering my injustices to him. I whimpered as the feeling in my pussy faded away from where it had edged near my peak and I thought about considerably lengthening the list of crimes for which he thought I should apologize.

"Apologize for what?" I asked, incredulous that I was having this conversation while bent backwards over his ready room desk. In hindsight, I really should have just apologized and gotten on with getting it on, but God help me, I did love arguing with him.

"Jean Luc," he said, resonantly italicizing each part of his name with his magnificent voice. As he looked at me accusingly and waited for my response, I told myself not to smirk. I told myself to look mystified like I had no idea what he was talking about. I told myself that it was vitally important that I did nothing to admit that I had flirted with this man for years by casually ignoring protocol and calling him by his first name instead of "Captain" every single time I thought I could get away with it. So, I controlled myself and I didn't smirk. Not at all. Not even a little bit. But... I did snort-giggle. It didn't go over as well as I'd hoped, especially when the snort-giggle turned into paroxysms of belly laughter that I was utterly helpless to control.

His mouth pursing, he nodded, and rose up from where he had been doing such nice things to my pussy. Still giggling, I began to get up to beg his forgiveness, but he pressed my shoulder back down to the desk as he brusquely walked around it. "If you attempt to move from that spot again, I will order the computer to restrain you," he growled.

"Wh...what are you doing?" I said, obediently staying where I was told.

"Something else I've dreamed of doing for God knows how long... stopping your damn mouth. Head back," he ordered. Smirking, I let my head drop back down over the edge of the desk, stretching my long neck, unsurprised to find myself suddenly looking at a most insistent erection poking out from under his Robin Hood tunic. "Now, Doctor, be so kind as to open your mouth and show me how truly sorry you are."

Looking up, I met his eyes before I kissed the drop of precum off the tip of his cock, "Yes, Captain," I said, then opened wide and welcomed his cock as he slid it deep into my mouth. I wrapped my lips tightly around him and sucked as he slowly withdrew, drawing a guttural moan out of him before he slowly pushed back inside, deeper than before. I coated his cock thickly with my saliva with each slow stroke, each time accepting him deeper and deeper into my relaxed throat until my lips pressed into the crinkle of hair at the base of his cock.

Jean Luc held inside me and relished the moment briefly before pulling back again and continuing to enjoy my mouth with his slow meticulous strokes. I reached my hand up to caress him, but he took it in his instead and held it to his lips. After a while he paused, appearing to reach for control with difficulty, and pulled out. Pulling me up to him, he kissed me again, his eyes lit with forbidden delight.

I tasted myself on his lips and I blushed, abashed at the strangeness and the sheer intimacy of it. Jean Luc and I were friends, close friends that shared an unspoken attraction, but always separated by an emotional wall of professional responsibility, respect, and tragic history. As our lips danced, and our bodies touched, that wall was gone... and it made everything that was once so familiar into something new. I ran my hands over the smooth skin of his head, reveling in the sensation... how many times had I sat across from him at breakfast wondering what it would feel like? His eyes, always so carefully guarded and appropriate, now were gleaming with hunger and intention. His mouth, always so erudite and never delivering a word out of place, now took my nipple inside and sent electric tugging sensations throughout my body.

My head dropped back and my back arched toward him as he devoured my breasts, leaving me panting. "I'll want you in my quarters at 0500 each morning, from now on," he murmured, switching to the other nipple.

"You know, you may want me then, but there's no way in hell I'm waking up that early... Captain," I added, careful to observe protocol, as long as it was getting me laid.

I yelped suddenly, when Jean Luc reached inside my robe and gave my buttocks a hard pinch, "That was not a request, Doctor. If you fail to obey my order, I will simply have Lieutenant LaForge deliver you naked to my bed via site-to-site transport and I will wake you myself," he said, smiling now as he rubbed his large nose in the valley between my breasts.

I groaned. I probably would have reconsidered this whole thing if I'd remembered in the turbolift what an early riser Jean Luc was. Accepting my fate, I reached down and took his cock in my hand and stroked it, smiling softly as I watched the play of emotions and pleasure pass over his face. "I need you inside me, sir," I whispered against his cheek.

With a grunt of agreement, he lifted me, not to the sofa-like seating along the wall, but he carried me back around the desk to his chair. I bit my lips to hold back the wide grin coming to my face and felt him laughing quietly. "Don't think that I haven't seen you eyeing this chair with a particular look in your lovely eyes," he said. Settling himself in it, as I faced him, he hooked my legs easily over the half-arms, grabbed my buttocks, and positioned me over his throbbing member. I grabbed the back of the chair behind his head for leverage and felt him slowly pull me down onto his hot length.

Looking down, I watched myself slide down onto him until my bright red hair met his black. I couldn't believe he was really inside me, but then I looked up into his eyes and suddenly it became real. That pulsing hot cock inside me was his, because in his eyes was the look of a man that had finally come home. He gripped me tighter and began thrusting up inside me, moving one hand between us to rub my clit as he stroked in and out.

Our lips hungrily met again, kissing, sucking, biting and panting into each other as his pace quickened. I peaked and cried out, feeling myself clenching again and again around his pistoning cock. He didn't even slow down, but with a grunt began bucking up into me even harder, slapping his hips against me as he filled me again and again and again. I didn't come down after my orgasm, but just seemed to ride it even higher as I watched him taking me completely without inhibition until, with a final surging thrust, his cock tightened inside me and shot bursts of hot come deep inside my shaking body.

We rested there, forehead to forehead, gasping as we tried to breathe normally again. After a long while he raised his eyes to meet mine and we both started laughing softly. He leaned forward and kissed me long and lovingly, before disengaging himself from my pussy and helping me down out of the chair. After one long last look at me in the green silk robe, he commanded "Computer, clean and attire us in our standard uniforms... but, do not remove my semen from Doctor Crusher," he added, leaning forward to whisper in my ear, "I want you to feel me seeping out of you for the rest of the day."

My uniform felt alien when it materialized on me. The somber and professional Ready Room looked unfamiliar. I barely recognized Jean Luc as the man I'd had breakfast with for years. Of course, none of these had really changed, but this experience had made them all new to me. Even I, an almost untouched widow of too many years, felt new... and it had been a long time since I'd felt like that.

Jean Luc cleared his throat. "Well, Doctor, I appreciate you coming to me with your concerns... and I look forward to continuing our discussion tomorrow," he said, straightening his uniform with an emphatic tug.

"Yes, Captain," I said, giving him a demure nod.

"At 0500, tomorrow," he clarified, and I finally recognized the sadistic gleam in his eyes that I had never really seen for what it was before.

"0500, Captain," I sighed, rolling my eyes and walking out of the Ready Room onto the bridge as he followed me. Data immediately opened his mouth upon seeing the Captain, but closed it again with a frown and slight cock of his head. Deanna was still wide-eyed sitting in her chair, trying hard to control her face, but Riker was making no effort of the sort as he watched the Captain stride to the command chair, and I saw a wide lascivious grin spread across his bearded face as the turbolift doors closed. I chuckled softly to myself before ordering the lift onward to Sick Bay... I probably should have told Jean Luc that he was still wearing the Robin Hood goatee, but supposed I could just tell him at 5:00 in the goddamn morning tomorrow.