Title: Courtship Cunning 
Author: Ainzfern 
Series: TNG 
Code: Picard/Kurn (Humor & M/M Implied, Challenge response) 
Rating: PG (Just to be safe – it's a bit cheeky) 
Disclaimer: Paramount owns STAR TREK... etc and so on and
so forth! My only pay here is personal joy...and I would
NEVER be deliberately rude to the mighty flagship's
Captain. But I WOULD like to think he can have a little fun
now and then.
 
Archiving: Cool- if you want to - please let me know. 

Summary: Captain Picard introduces a rather baffled
Klingon Captain to the finer points of Human courtship.
This is definitely a PWP. Do not look for a deeper meaning.
There IS none. <EG> It probably takes place after Sin's Of
The Father. Erm... sometime. 

Feedback: Yes please! ainzfern@hotmail.com

Author's Note: This is in response to Saklani's challenge
to write a story where my Captain pursues his love interest
with a traditional Human style courtship, regardless of the
fact that the object of his desires is NOT Human... Mighty
thanks be to the The Universal Translator Assistant Project
for the invaluable Klingon/English translations list.

Key: **Kahlesste kaase - Kahless' hand, an oath referring
to the story of the Emperor Kahless. ** petaQ - %$@$!!
(swearing) 
**khest't - roughly equal to "damned."(swearing) 
**taHqeq - #$!@# (more swearing)



Courtship Cunning.

"Ooof!" The breath whooshed out of Captain Kurn's lungs in
a sudden painful rush. For a moment, he lay there on the
floor, winded and slightly dazed, wondering what, by the
*Kahlesste kaase*, had just happened!

"My apologies, Captain Kurn," the elegant and richly
accented voice came from above him, "but that... groping of
yours was simply unacceptable."

Kurn rolled his blazing eyes around and focused on the
Human standing over him. It was not possible! He measured
the man with his gaze. For all that Picard was physically
fit, he was still the weaker species... and he was SMALLER
than Kurn, for Kahless' sake! How the *petaQ* had he
managed to...

Picard smiled pleasantly, as if reading Kurn's thoughts.
"You might be the stronger of us, Captain Kurn, but *I* am
faster."

The Human reached down and offered his hand. After a
moment's consideration, Kurn clasped it firmly. Picard
pulled him to his feet and then took a deliberate step back.

Kurn suddenly felt more than a little chastened. And
disappointed. The battle earlier today with a rogue convoy
of Orian pirate traders had been splendid. The tide had
turned when the Enterprise suddenly arrived to enter the
fray and Picard had been the consummate warrior. Cool,
calm... always one move ahead of their enemy. It had been
an honor to battle alongside him. Kurn as master of his own
ship and Picard at the helm of the Enterprise. He had been
able to see why his brother, Worf, was so loyal.

He had been impressed. And then aroused.

And tonight had seemed like a perfect end for the day's
events. When Picard had invited the Klingon Captain to dine
in his own quarters, Kurn had been very pleased. They were
the two highest-ranking officers on board their respective
ships. They were both warriors. They were both available.
It would have been an acceptable liaison.

So, Kurn had gone. He had enjoyed the food and the Blood
Wine, (he had been impressed that Picard had thought of
it), and then, judging that the time was right, he had
leapt.

And now this.

He stood and looked with perplexity at this little Human.
This man who had somehow managed to kick his Klingon
backside halfway across the room without breaking a sweat.
He would have been furiously offended and humiliated by
this if he hadn't already been so profoundly shocked.

He couldn't understand it. He had acted in a completely
proper manner. He had seen the brief flash of heat in
Picard's eyes just before he'd been sent flying. Still
feeling somewhat confused, he said so...

Picard's expression changed to one of firm, but not
unfriendly, resolve. "I quite agree, Captain Kurn. Your
actions were entirely appropriate... for a Klingon Captain
on his own ship. But you are not on your own ship, Captain,
you are on mine. You are also a guest of a Human, not
another Klingon, and your ways are not our ways." 

Kurn bristled. "Are you daring to imply that *I* could not
understand your ways?!"

"I am merely suggesting that perhaps we should re-evaluate
this attraction."

"What is to re-evaluate, Picard?" Kurn growled low in his
chest and stepped closer, "You desire me... I saw it in
your eyes. I desire you. Let us ACT on it!" He lunged again.

The room blurred past.

"Ooof!" Kurn landed on his back once more and lay there,
glaring up at his tormentor.

//How in the *petaQ* does he DO that?//

Picard pulled him to his feet again.

Offended and seething with barely controlled rage, Kurn
shook off his hand and moved away. He was frustrated beyond
words, and it showed. If he was to enjoy the pleasures of
knowing Picard's body, it appeared he would have to play
along with the Human's rules of engagement. "Very well," he
barked, "I will abide by your ways. My ship is remaining on
course with yours for the next few days. I will show you
how a Klingon adapts to any hardship."

"Kurn, you don't have to do this..."

"Enough!" Kurn bellowed. "The challenge had been made. It
is now a matter of honor!"

"Oh, Good Grief," Picard muttered dryly.

Kurn stalked past him. "I will return to my ship. Begin
your ridiculous Human overtures tomorrow." He reached the
door and punched the release panel.

"Kurn... are you quite sure you are ready to experience a
Human style courtship?" A slightly wicked glint shone in
Picard's shrewd gray eyes.

"I am a Klingon warrior," Kurn declared proudly, "I will
rise to this challenge and I WILL succeed."

***** 

When Kurn, accompanied by his First Officer, entered the
bridge of his Bird Of Prey following morning, his attention
was immediately drawn to his crew. They were standing in a
loose circle, staring in perplexity at a strange and
unfamiliar object on the console by his command chair.

Kurn pointed. "What is that?"

The bridge crew looked at him. "We are not sure, Captain,"
his Ops Officer reported, "It just arrived by transporter
beam from the Enterprise. We assumed that YOU would know
its significance."

Kurn's First Officer was peering closely at the
beautifully wrapped bunch of Terran Day Lilies. "It appears
to be a collection of decapitated vegetation, Sir," he
reported.

"I see," Kurn walked over and poked around in the tissue
paper for a moment. He extracted a small white card.

For you, Kurn A sign of my regard for you. Jean Luc...

Quickly, he pocketed the card and turned to his crew. "It
is a gift," he announced.

"Is it meant to be eaten?" his First Officer asked him.

Kurn stared at him. // *khest't* if I know!//

His Ops Officer saved him." Perhaps it is meant for
display, Captain?"

//Ah. Of course. A Human symbol of some kind.// Kurn
nodded. "Very well, we will leave them here."

"Will they not wilt?" his Ops Officer asked, "Should we
not put them... in... water... um," he met Kurn's blazing
eyes quickly moved to his station. "I was just asking," he
muttered under his breath.

Kurn took his seat and ordered the first drill of the day.
His eyes however, kept straying to the flowers.

An hour later, he sent his Ops Officer down to the Mess to
find a jar of water.

***** 

As soon as the door slid back, Kurn knew.

Someone had been in his quarters!

His finely honed warrior's instincts were howling at him.
For a moment, he considered alerting his Tactical Officer,
but quickly dismissed the notion. He was a Klingon warrior.
If the intruders where still here, they WOULD die by his
hand.

He drew his dagger and moved stealthily into the room.

No one was there.

He made a quick check of the area. Nothing seemed to be
disturbed or missing. He went into his bedchamber.

There, in the middle of the hard pallet, was a small, pale
pink envelope.

He re-sheathed his dagger and picked it up, turning it
over in his big hands, looking at it curiously. 

It was scented.

He raised it to his face and took tentative sniff. Then,
with the faintest expression of approval, he sniffed it
again.

Finally, he opened the envelope and pulled out the folded
note, along with another waft of perfume.

My Splendid Warrior, Please do me the honor of
accompanying me to the Enterprise's Holosuites this
evening. I long to see the silver touch of moonlight
shimmering over your silken mane. Jean Luc...

Kurn snorted derisively. "Pah! Ridiculous Human sentiments!"

//He gives me nothing but flattery. It means little,// he
sneered at his reflection on the highly polished bronze
mirror by his pallet, //THIS is what he thought I would not
understand? These transparent attempts to win favors that
would have freely been given?//

Kurn looked at himself a little closer. //Why is he
bothering with this nonsense? We could have had each other
a dozen times over by now. Why does he delay?//

Kurn tucked the letter inside his leather tunic and turned
to exit his bedchamber. As he turned, his eyes caught his
reflection one more time. He raised one hand to the thick
locks that flowed down across his shoulders.

"Silken mane," he murmured thoughtfully, "Hmmmm..."

***** 

"Good evening, Kurn," Picard greeted him as he
materialized on the Enterprise's transporter pad. 

The human stepped up to Kurn and cupped his elbow gently
in his palm. For a moment, the big Klingon stared blankly
at him, wondering what he was doing. Then, with a
chivalrous wave of his other hand, Picard guided him down
off the platform and out into the corridor.

As they walked, the strangest conversation Kurn had ever
been involved with took place.

"I'm exceedingly pleased that you could make it tonight."
Picard told him.

Kurn felt that some sort of response was warranted. He
nodded shortly, "As am I." 

Picard smiled at him. "You look exceptionally handsome in
that outfit."

"It is my uniform, Picard. It is no different to the one I
wore yesterday."

Picard ignored that. "I must say, I DO like what you've
done with your hair."

"I have done nothing with my hair!"

"And you smell divine. What scent is that you are wearing?"

Kurn snarled at him, "I wear no scent but a warrior's
sweat, Picard!"

Unruffled, Picard steered him towards an arch set in the
wall of the corridor. "Well, it is most alluring, Kurn.
Ah... here we are!"

"Where"

"The holosuite. I've booked us an hour."

"Only one hour?"

Picard nodded. "Yes, I wanted to take a quiet stroll in
the moonlight with you. I hope that is acceptable."

Kurn sighed heavily, reminding himself that it was HIS
decision to accept Picard's challenge. He nodded morosely. 

As they entered the arch, Kurn turned to Picard again.
"Tell me. To what end are we doing this?" He was honestly
baffled.

Picard's eyes softened slightly. "Kurn, I only wish to
enhance you understanding of Human relationships."

"I see," Kurn said slowly as they walked through the arch
into a moonlit night on Earth, "and when will you judge
that my understanding is sufficient, Picard?"

"Jean Luc."

"What"

"Call me Jean Luc," Picard smiled and held out his hand.

Kurn stared at it. "What do you want now?"

"I want you to take my hand, Kurn."

"Why?"

"Because it is most pleasant to walk hand in hand through
a sweetly scented evening with an attractive companion."

"Oh," Nonplussed, Kurn shrugged and enveloped Picard's
elegant hand in his own.

They walked on, side by side, through the gentle evening.
As they went, Kurn reflected on Picard's words.

The night was warm. The breeze was scented with
wildflowers and Picard's hand in his felt very warm and
comfortable.

The Human was right. This WAS most pleasant.

***** 

Just over an hour later, Kurn and Picard materialized in
the corridor outside Kurn's quarters. The Human had
insisted on seeing the Klingon Captain to his door. Kurn
had no idea why. It wasn't as if anything was likely to
happen to him. Still, he found that the gesture did not
displease him.

"Well," Picard reached out and took both of Kurn's large
hands in his own, "goodnight, Kurn. It was a lovely
evening. Thank you."

Without waiting for a reply, he lifted Kurn's hands to his
face and gently brushed a soft kiss across the knuckles of
each one. Then he released them, stepped back, tapped his
comm badge and beamed back to the Enterprise.

"Captain Kurn?" the First Officer turned the corner of the
corridor and walked towards him, "Are you well?" He sounded
slightly concerned.

"Of course I am well!" Kurn snapped at him.

The First Officer tilted his head. "What ails your hands?"

Kurn blinked, confused. "There is nothing wrong with my
hands!" he declared.

"Then why are you holding them up in front of you like
that?"

Flushing slightly, Kurn snapped his arms back down to his
sides. "I was..." he shook his head, "Put it from your
mind. I am well enough."

His First Officer nodded. "As you say, Captain." With one
last puzzled look, he moved away down the corridor.

***** 

Kurn awoke the following morning to the high shimmering
hum of a transporter beam. Instinctively, he rolled off his
pallet, grabbed his disruptor and lunged out into the main
room, a Klingon war cry rising from his chest.

The howl faded away. Kurn dropped his weapon. And his jaw.

Astounded, he slowly turned in a full circle.

They were everywhere!

Flowers... blushing, deep red roses. Long stemmed. Kurn
did not know their proper name of course, but he knew
classy decapitated vegetation when he saw it.

The blooms covered every surface of the room. Crimson
petals littered the floor like a delicate blood red carpet.
A soft, sweet scent filled the air.

He blinked and then swallowed.

Hard.

He swallowed again, his hand coming to his neck, thick
fingers resting against his throat. By the *Kahlesste
kaase*, his throat actually ached! The room suddenly
blurred and he blinked again, clearing the sudden mistiness
from his eyes. 

//TEARS?!// he was suddenly outraged, //Does he WISH for
me to behave like a child?!//

Quickly, Kurn returned to his bedchamber and pulled on his
uniform. Then, growling savagely, deep in his massive
chest, he left his quarters and headed for the transporter
bay.

//It has gone too far!// he raged silently as he stormed
through the corridors, //I am not some feeble infant, fit
to weep at the smallest thing, and HE cannot turn me into
one! Either he wants a warrior in his bead, or he does
not!//

He materialized in Picard's quarters and was surprised to
see the Human calmly waiting for him. He was seated in his
armchair, casually sipping his tea and smiling.

"Good morning, Kurn. Did you receive the flowers?"

"Yes, I got your *taHqeq* flowers, Picard!" Kurn glared at
him.

"Why the vehemence, Kurn? Didn't you like them?"

"I..." Kurn hesitated. He HAD liked them, that was the
problem.

Picard nodded sagely and set aside his cup. "Kurn," he
said, rising to his feet, "did they cause and unexpected
reaction? Is that why you are so disturbed?"

Kurn sighed, all his anger dissipating under a wave of
disappointment. He was not happy to be admitting this,
but... "I failed, Jean Luc," he said softly, "I believed I
could understand this `courting' of yours, but it eludes
me."

Picard moved right up to him and smiled gently. "Kurn...
did the gift touch you HERE?" He reached out and tapped the
Klingon's chest, just over his first heart. 

Kurn was silent for a long time. "It did," he admitted
finally.

Picard's smile broadened. "Then you have NOT failed. Not
in the slightest. I knew that I aroused your body, but I
needed to know that I could also reach your feelings." With
that, he tapped his comm badge and gave a brief instruction.

They materialized back in Kurn's rose scented quarters.
The Klingon looked at Picard in confusion. "What..?"

"Kurn?" Picard's eyes suddenly grew heated.

"Yes?"

"The challenge has been met with honor," Picard intoned,
"You have been courted like a Human."

Kurn nodded.

Picard vented a low, deep growl. "Now... we will copulate
like Klingons."

This time, the Human leapt.

END