Picard is the daddiest of daddies, the domiest of doms. He's a man who wants to be, needs to be, in charge in every situation. Even in private he instinctively takes command, as we've thankfully seen on so many occasions. And he's very closed-off emotionally, so whenever he finally unleashes, he unleashes.

Imagine Daddy Dom Picard in his ready room, in That Hot Custom Jacket uniform.

You walk out of a turbolift in full view of the entire bridge crew. They all know why you are there. You arrive at the ready room door. You press the chime.

When that commanding voice demands you to "Come", you almost do.

What follows is debauchery, wine, and lots of use of the word "sir" on your part.

But you do your best because nothing would be worse than making Captain Picard himself disappointed in you. You would do anything for your captain.

The captain. Starfleet's most senior captain, entrusted with the flagship itself. A man comfortable with ordering other captains around. Even the admirals treat him as an equal.

Your walk of shame involves being watched by the finest talent in all of Starfleet. Captains are made on the bridge of the NCC-1701-D. You are going to be an officer's mess story for generations, and the details will get more debauched with each new telling.

And Picard will just emerge, unexpressive, demand "Report, number one", and settle into his chair. And no-one says anything about it because Picard is in command.