Strolling into the office of the Chief Medical Officer, Picard's step is light, practically skipping as he glides through the door.

Glancing up over her monitor, Beverly Crusher smiles lightly at the sight of the captain entering the office. "Hello, Captain. Everything alright?"

Striding across the room, Picard smiles broadly. "Good evening, Doctor."

Regarding him suspiciously, Beverly smiles, almost laughing. "What's going on?"

"I went back to my quarters, but I couldn't sit still," explains Picard, perching on the edge of the desk, squaring to look directly at her.

"Oh?" raising a brow, Beverly straightens, intrigued.

"My mind kept recalling earlier, when you came to the Ready Room," Jean-Luc elaborates, an impish grin in the corner of his mouth.

Thoroughly surprised, Beverly's heart beat quickens, her mouth agape at the memory of her entirely unprofessional display of affection toward her captain and long-time friend while she had been under the influence of the toxin they had brought aboard from the Tsiolkovsky . "Oh?"

"Yes," chuckles Jean-Luc lowly, folding his hands over his knee, leaning over the desk to gaze at her intently.

Swallowing hard, Beverly takes a shaky breath, her chest, neck and cheeks already flushing red, heated and warm. "Captain, you'll have to…excuse my behaviour. I was under the effect of the toxin from the Tsiolkovsky. Well, we all were. I….I'm so sorry. I know my comments and…"Averting her eyes, Beverly strings her hands."…advances were…entirely unprofessional. I promise it won't happen again."

Grinning mischievously, Picard pushes off of the desk, coming to stand over Beverly's chair. "That's unfortunate. To be honest, I was hoping that wasn't just the Polywater talking."

Eyes dilated, Beverly peers up at him, lips parted in stunned silence. Wordlessly she wonders if the captain isn't still somehow under the effect of the Tsiolkovsky intoxication. Was the antidote not working effectively on him? Was it somehow wearing off? What sparked this unusual behaviour in the man she thought she knew so well?

Reaching down, Jean-Luc grasps her hands, pulling her up and out of the chair. "You made some remark earlier that we didn't have time, but you would like to show me something. I believe we have time now. Care to show me?"

Smiling in disbelief, Beverly ruminates on his words as he slips an arm around the small of her back, drawing her in close. "You said 'not now'?"

"How about now?" Jean-Luc suggests in a low baritone, his lips pressed to her ear.

A chill reverberates down her spine, making her skin tingle in anticipation. She braces herself, grasping his shoulder with one hand. "Captain…"

"Let's drop the decorum, Beverly, " suggests Jean-Luc, bringing his other hand up to her neck.

As his finger tips graze her neck, Beverly closes her eyes, her mind reeling. His hand trails up her neck to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her lips, parting them gently. Eyes fluttering back open, Beverly gazes into his darkened hazel eyes, boring into her with heated passion. Relaxing into his touch, she smiles warmly.

Jean-Luc captures her lips in a slow, penetrating kiss, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

A low moan resonates in her throat, Beverly using her other hand to grip around his collar bone, pulling him closer. Jean-Luc's hand trails down her lower back to grip her backside, pulling her flush against his already prevalent erection. The hand in her hair drops down her neck, grazing her collar bone and teasing with the zipper of her uniform.

As his fingers slide the zipper down her chest, he peppers kisses along her neck and chest as he exposes the flushing skin, her pulse quickening in response.

As his fingers reach the expanse between her breasts, Jean-Luc slips a thumb between the material of her uniform, searching for her hardening nipple as his tongue blazes a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her chest.

Biting down on her lip, Beverly, digs her nails into his shoulder, her heart pounding against her chest and her mind racing. "Jean-Luc…."

"Was this what you had in mind, Doctor?" teases Jean-Luc, his thumb rolling over her nipple as he smirks playfully.

Practically panting, Beverly cradles his face in her hands, drawing him up to her. "Jean-Luc…."

"What's wrong?" rumbles Jean-Luc against her cheek, their bodies still pressed deliciously close, hips meshed.

"We…have to stop…" whispers Beverly, stroking his cheek. "Someone could see…."

Sighing audibly, Jean-Luc reluctantly removes his hand from her breast. "Very well. You're quite right."

Pecking his lips, Beverly draws back marginally. "I would…like to show you. Can we…reconvene in your quarters?"

Eyes illuminating, Jean-Luc beams. "Yes. Yes, immediately!"

Giggling, Beverly covers her swollen lips. "Okay. Let me put myself together, get packed up here for the night."

"No, drop everything, Doctor," insists Jean-Luc urgently, grabbing her hands. "I need…urgent medical attention."

Shaking her head, Beverly chuckles softly, squeezing his hands. "Yeah. I can see that, Captain." Leaning in, she rests her forehead against his, staring into his hazel eyes darkened in lust. "But, you've got me looking a real sight right now, my hair and uniform all askew. Let me straighten myself up. Go back to your cabin, and I'll meet you there in ten minutes."

"Make it five," commands Jean-Luc, finally relinquishing her hands and stepping back.

Stifling a retort, Beverly grins, nodding her agreement. "Aye, sir."

Grinning wickedly, his eyes rove over her unguardedly. "I'm glad it wasn't just the Tsiolkovsky intoxication."

Her eyes lingering over the broad expanse of his shoulders, Beverly nods firmly. "No. Definitely more than just intoxication."