This is an alternate story based on "Only Human" by Alara
Rogers (aleph@netcom.com), although it isn't in her continuity. 
I got sufficiently obsessed by the story "Only Human" that I
wrote an alternate set in this universe.  Alara's permission has
been secured for this.

Also, this story contains sex, so if that sort of thing bothers
you, you might want to skip out now.


PropinQuity by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com); based on
"Only Human" by Alara Rogers


Counsellor Medellin sat in her office, trying to prepare herself
mentally for dealing with her client.  Her "office" was a
comfortable room, with a sofa for her patients to sit or lie on as
their whim dictated.  Mentally, she pictured Q there, with his
insolent smirk and winced.  She hated having to deal with him. 
She knew she shouldn't, but she hated it.  Not because of who
he was.  Hating a client was something she could never do.  If
she could, she wouldn't be a counsellor.  No, she hated having
to counsel Q, because she never knew what to say to him. 
Despite her best efforts, her words seemed to go right past him,
or worst, just spark another of the conflicts he was so good at
using to keep his real problems at bay. 

Medellin sighed.  If she'd wanted to deal with abnormal
personalities, she would have concentrated on that field.  But
she hadn't, and now she was stuck with not one, but two, of the
worst patients she could imagine having to treat.  Q was bad
enough, but Dr. Naomi Allen was, if anything worse, because
Medellin felt that she should be able to understand Allen.  

Allen's background checked out as normal.  Allen was not a
Starfleet officer, but instead a scientist working for Starfleet. 
Nevertheless, she submitted to the usual psychological and
physiological screenings and came up normal.  Her results were
skewed towards the introverted, mentally balanced side, but that
was to be expected for someone who'd earned her doctorate
while most Starfleet officers were still at the Academy.  

Medellin looked at the file in front of her again, flipping
between screens, trying once again to find something she could
use to help Dr. Allen, because there was definitely something
wrong with the woman.  Medellin couldn't pinpoint what *was*
wrong with Allen; she tested normally enough, well within the
skew of her prior psychological tests.  But something had to be
wrong for her to want the kind of relationship she had with Q. 
Allen had set herself up as Q's punching bag, an emotional
release for someone with a great deal of anger and pain pent up
inside him.  Why, Medellin had no idea.  It was certainly not
the kind of action she could ever imagine herself taking.

It was Allen's strong will that was giving Medellin fits.  Dr.
Allen had obviously decided to allow herself to be a punching
bag, and *being* strong-willed, was likely to stubbornly stick
with it long after it started to hurt her.  And since the doctor
had made herself a punching bag for a person with a lot of rage
and pain in them, Medellin had to assume that Q was taking out
his anger on Allen.  Not necessarily physically, although the
incident with the bruised jaw bothered Medellin, but she was
also well aware of how Q could take things out on a person
emotionally.  Q was abusing Allen and Allen was putting up
with it for her own twisted reasons, which she wouldn't talk
about.  That was the crux of the problem.  Medellin couldn't
understand about what Allen's reasons were, because the doctor
never seemed to be masochistic or have self-martyring
tendencies in her tests.  Medellin could not comprehend why
Allen was behaving this way.  And that was precisely why she
was convinced that Allen needed help.   

If only Allen would *tell* her anything about her relationship
with Q.  As a condition of being allowed to stay with Q, Dr.
Allen had agreed to once weekly visits with the counsellor.  But
Allen steadfastly refused to say anything whatsoever about Q. 
She'd talk about her past, about her parents, about her work,
about her feelings about other people -- but not about Q.  It was
enough to drive Medellin insane.

How was she supposed to help Allen, when she couldn't even
ask her about the central issue?  Medellin had tried presenting
her aid as a way of getting Allen able to understand herself and
to understand her relationship with Q, and thus better able to
handle the problems which would inevitably arise.  Allen had
stared back blankly, as if Medellin were no longer speaking in
any language handled by the Universal Translator.  

Consequently, Medellin was forced to deduce all the essential
facts of their relationship from conversations with Allen that had
nothing to do with Q, and conversations with Q that bore no
relation to anything.  Q would talk about Allen, but as always,
his statements were a mix of truth, lie and sarcasm which never
failed to confuse Medellin.  Just when she thought she
understood something, something else would come out and she'd
realize she didn't really know what was going on at all. 
Medellin had basic facts about Q, and truths and half-truths
revealed in bits over the years, but the why of his and Allen's
relationship was still a mystery to her.  

It frustrated Medellin that the pair were unwilling to talk to her. 
How was she supposed to help them when they wouldn't speak
to her?  Didn't they want to get better?  That there was nothing
she could do for them was not a thought which ever entered
Medellin's head.  Neither was the idea that the two of them
were capable of working it out on their own.  

If Medellin had thought about it at all, she might have said that
relationships were too complex to be left up to the people
involved, that people needed expert help to navigate through
them safely, particularly people as in need of help as Q and Dr.
Allen.  At which point, both Q and Allen would have asked the
counsellor what successful relationships she had had to prove
that she was an expert at them, and Medellin would have been
forced to reply that just studying them was enough to make her
an expert.  Since both Q and Allen would have found that
answer hysterically stupid, it was best that the question had
never come up.

One of the things that made the pair so difficult to treat, other
than the fact that the two of them absolutely refused to come in
together, was that Q thrived on conflict, and apparently, so did
Allen.  Medellin's usual line of work was to help people in
dealing with conflict, how to defuse it, how to avoid it.  People
who actively sought out and created conflict, and who were
unhappy without it, were foreign to her.  Although it pained
Medellin to admit it, she didn't really understand them.  She
would have said she understood Allen up until this, but Medellin
definitely did not understand why any sane creature would
choose to live with Q.  It had occurred to Medellin that the
doctor might not be sane, but that hypothesis was easily
disproven by Allen's test scores.  

Medellin had considered using stronger methods to coerce Dr.
Allen into talking about Q, and to get the two to come to see
her together, but rejected it.  Coerced patients were unlikely to
be cooperative, and as stubborn as these two were already, she
didn't need to see worse from them.  

Why were they so stubborn?  Didn't they see she was trying to
help them?  

The door chimed and Medellin automatically responded,
"Come."

Dr. Allen entered.  "Hi."

"Hello.  I was just going over my notes.  Won't you be seated?"

Dr. Allen seated herself, making the couch her own.  Medellin
straightened herself in her chair, unconsciously bracing herself.

Whether in conscious or unconscious imitation of Q's naturally
flamboyant style of dressing, Allen wore a multicolored silk
caftan patterned in a garish red, yellow and blue mixture, the
red almost, but not quite, matching her hair.  Medellin found it
even difficult to look at Allen, which could have been the point. 
Possibly Allen was beginning to copy some of Q's traits, not a
desirable end.

"So what are we going to discuss today?" Naomi asked.

The counsellor cleared her throat.  "Why don't we start with the
incident in which you ended up in Sickbay with a bruised jaw?"

"What about it?"

"You tell me."

"What have you heard?"

With a start, Medellin realized that Dr. Allen had neatly turned
the tables on her.  "Why don't you assume I don't know
anything about it, and start from the beginning?"

Naomi nodded.  She wasn't going to tell Medellin the truth, for
one, that would have been invasive of Q's privacy, and for
another, then everyone would know she'd lied.  But the lie was
a matter of public record, and she had no problem reciting that.  

"I was in our quarters, and going to fetch something.  I walked
by Q, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.  I guess
Q must have raised his arm as I walked past, and I must have
walked into it.  He called Sickbay, and they treated my injury."

Medellin hid a grimace.  Almost word for word from the
Security report.  How could she help someone who so
steadfastly refused to reveal the truth to her?  Medellin harbored
a strong suspicion that Q was physically abusing Allen, but
without any help from Allen, there was little that Medellin could
do about it.  She looked at the doctor, trying to get Allen to
realize her own sincerity and desire to help her.  "There must
be more to the incident than that, Naomi."

"Why do you say that?"

Medellin shook her head.  She'd hoped Dr. Allen would reveal
the truth to her on her own.  "Could you tell me why it was that
the Sickbay team found both of you in the nude?"

"No."

Frustrated, Medellin asked, "Do you usually wander around in
the nude?"

Naomi smiled.  "Only when I'm in the mood."

"I'm trying to be serious, here.  I only want to help you,
Naomi.  It's clear to me that there's something more going on
to your relationship with Q than is apparent to the eye."

"Really?"  Naomi drew her legs up onto the couch, curling her
feet under her.  "Like what?"

Medellin started to answer, then realized Dr. Allen had done it
to her again.  "Please don't play games with me, Naomi. 
You're only making this harder, you know."

"Making what harder?" Naomi asked innocently.

Medellin eyed the heavy ceremonial stone ornamenting her desk
consideringly and wondered what it was about this woman and
Q that made her think such violent thoughts.  She never had this
problem with any of her other patients.  "I'm trying to help
you, Naomi."

"With what?"

"Your relationship with Q."

"You know I won't discuss that."

"You really should, Naomi.  Relationships are difficult things,
even when the people involved..."  Medellin wondered how to
put it tactfully, "...don't have other problems in their lives to
cope with.  In a relationship like yours with Q, there's certain to
be disagreements and obstacles which I could help you deal
with."

Naomi regarded the counsellor pleasantly.  "I don't believe I
want to discuss that issue with you."

Medellin regarded her most difficult patient with frustration.  Q
had been the most difficult, and still was the one with the most
problems, but at least he'd talk to her.  Some of the things he
said weren't true, and he avoided many sensitive issues, but he
liked to talk about himself.  Dr. Allen wasn't suicidal, and
indeed other than her obsession with Q, entirely normal, but she
was impossible to talk to.  Medellin's experience had not
equipped her to deal with people who steadfastly denied to
discuss their problems.  Denying that problems existed was a
common problem; however, refusing to talk altogether was not. 
Generally such a person did not seek counselling.  

"Naomi, I know that you and Q are lovers. I hoped that you
would like to volunteer information about this on your own."

"Interesting information.  Thanks for letting me know."

"Know what?"

"That Q and I are lovers.  I like to know things like that about
myself, although I generally disdain listening to gossip."

Medellin gritted her teeth.  "Naomi, you must realize that the
whole starbase is aware of your affair."

"Really?  And who did they get this information from, if I
wasn't aware of it?"

"You do realize that, considering Q's nature and notoriety, the
details regarding the incident were known to everyone almost
immediately?  Not that there's anything to be ashamed of in the
two of you being naked; it's an integral part of the sexual
relationship, but you must have heard something."

Actually, Naomi had heard a lot about it, or rather, them.  Not
only was the story of her chewing out the commodore all over
the starbase, but so was the juicy news that she and Q were
lovers.  When you added the two together, you had a gossip
topic that would not die.

Her actions had been justified, and certainly, Naomi would not
have changed anything about it.  Except perhaps being a bit
faster in telling Q not to call Sickbay.  Her rebuke of
Commodore Anderson had been deserved however.  Driving Q
to commit suicide by depriving him of his freedom as well as
her own self was not a fair tactic, especially when Anderson
was using it simply to get Q to work on transwarp.  Transwarp
was not something Q would ever support, and Anderson should
realize that.  Naomi didn't believe that the lack of her presence
had anything to do with Q's suicide attempt.  Anderson had
presented Q with a situation where his alternatives were to work
on transwarp and compromise his principles as well as his
chances of ever getting back into the Q Continuum, or to be
thrown out to the wolves.  Die or die.  Really terrific choices.  

Trying to gracefully avoid talking about her relationship with Q
was one of the major banes of Naomi's life currently.  But she
couldn't talk about it, wouldn't talk about it.  Even if it wasn't a
very personal subject, her promise to Q to not reveal anything
about him bound her.  She couldn't violate that trust.  If she
did, there would be no hope of him ever believing in her.

Medellin sighed, and gave up.  She wasn't going to get anything
out of the self-possessed young woman sitting across from her. 
"Let's talk about your sexual history prior to Q."

"What do you want to know?"

Medellin sighed deeply.  "Just start anywhere.  Anywhere at
all."

****

Medellin cornered Q finally and forced him to talk to her.

"Q, this is a very important subject.  If you and Naomi are
lovers..."

Q puffed up, defenses automatically coming to the fore.  This
wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss.

"...you need to understand some things about women."

Q said nothing.  Medellin studied him.  His face was
expressionless.  He couldn't tell if he was listening to her, but
he *was* still there, which was a good sign.

She continued.  "Women have needs, too.  You have to
realize..."

"Has Naomi been talking to you?" Q asked harshly.  He didn't
like the image that put in his mind, of Medellin and Naomi
sitting together and laughing about how incompetent the former
god was in bed.
   
Startled, Medellin shook her head.  Didn't he know that Naomi
refused to talk about him?  "She won't tell me anything about
you."

Q blinked at that.  He had never expected Naomi to keep her
promises to him.  Other people's promises seemed fairly
arbitrary.  People said they'd do things, and then they did them
if they really wanted to.  That was the way the world worked. 
That Naomi would keep her promises to him touched him
deeply.  This proof of her loyalty to him met a need inside him
which he hadn't even known was there until now.

Medellin nodded.  "Really, Q, I can't get her to discuss you.  I
admit I've tried.  I simply assumed that since you are obviously
involved in a relationship with her, and because you haven't
been human very long, and we both know you haven't had any
other sexual partners, that you might feel more comfortable
accepting sexual advice from a third party than from someone
close to you, whom you're emotionally vulnerable to, like
Naomi."

Q disregarded the many things in there that he didn't want to
admit to.  "Supposing I needed help, which I don't, what kind
of help could *you* possibly provide?"

Medellin ignored the insult.  "I have some references for you to
read, but what I'd really like to talk to you about this.  Ideally,
I'd like to talk to both you and Naomi together."

"There's nothing to discuss."

"Q, sex is a very natural part of human experience.  You
shouldn't deny it.  In fact, I'm very happy for you that you've
found a partner.  I'm trying to help you keep her."

That was a novel idea.  He'd temporarily thought while deeply
depressed that Naomi had deliberately left him over the
transwarp incident, but she hadn't.  He *knew* how inept he
was in bed; there was no need for Medellin to bring it up.  He
had never thought he would be able to keep Naomi.  Anderson
had proven it by taking Naomi away from him at the first
opportunity she had.  He needed more defenses against Naomi,
needed not to need her so much.  But his efforts were futile. 
Try as he might, he couldn't send her away.  The best he could
do was to pretend the transwarp incident had not happened, to
refuse to talk about the harrowing days he had spent alone,
locked in with nothing more than his own thoughts and the
knowledge of the consequences he would face were he to give
in, and the shattering aftermath, where he had humiliated
himself by weeping like a small child in Naomi's arms.  The
memory of his weakness shamed him.

Q had asked Naomi to leave several times, but each time the
annoying woman refused to leave, in fact, which perversely
gave him a comfortable feeling of security, despite his own need
to get rid of her on his own before she did it to him.  However
Medellin was raising a disturbing question, and she did know
more about human females than he did.  

"Are you saying that sex deranges something in women's
minds?"

Medellin's mouth twisted.  "I suppose you could say that.  What
I meant was that a woman expects a certain something from her
partner.  In fact, she has every right to expect to get the same
pleasure her partner experiences."

He was right.  Medellin was laughing herself sick inside at his
inadequacy.  He stood up.  "As much as I find this conversation
endlessly intriguing, I'm afraid I do have more important things
to do than discuss my sexual conquests."

Medellin stopped him with a hand on his wrist.  "I've forwarded
the references to your computer. Please, do read them."

He arched an eyebrow at her.  "I suggest you give your advice
to someone who needs it, counsellor.  Yourself, perhaps?"

****

Naomi stood by the bed, about to disrobe, when Q stopped her.

"No, let me."  There.  He'd said it.  The offer had been made. 
The words were out there in the open and he mentally cringed,
waiting for her to reject him.  This had taken tremendous
courage for him.  He was risking not only her rejection of him
and his offer, but her recognition that he didn't know what he
was doing.

She looked up at him in surprise, smiling.  A thrill of
excitement ran through her.  His hands on her, touching her
skin... She shivered.  "All right."

Her smile was all the reward he needed.  Besides a discreet
chance to throw up.

He stepped close to her, overwhelming her with his masculine
presence.  He was so much taller than she was.  Naomi looked
up at him, watching his intent face as he carefully unbuttoned
the top of her dress.

His thumb brushed her breast, and she shuddered, her hands
coming up to rest lightly on his hips. 

He looked at her, startled.  She liked this.  She really did like
this.  He didn't know why, didn't understand why, but the
manual had been right.

His hands slipped inside her dress, gliding lightly over her skin,
coming up over her shoulders, and brushing her dress back, and
off her arms.  The dress slipped down, falling past her hips and
pooling on the ground.

Naomi shivered, holding onto him, trying to pull herself closer
to him, to put more of her skin in contact with his teasing
hands.

Q stared at her, and Naomi shivered again at the impact of that
heated gaze.  Having his full attention on her was all at once
daunting and exciting.  Having his attention, and knowing that
he meant to pleasure her made her feel faint at the knees.

Naomi sank back onto the bed, unable to look anywhere but at
him.  

Q followed her, reclining next to her.  He was attempting to
lounge, and mostly pulling it off, but he was tense and Naomi
could read it in his stiff posture.  She wanted to say something
to him, to relax him, but she didn't want to break the mood. 
She was afraid that one wrong word would startle him, and then
he wouldn't keep doing this.  And she definitely wanted him to
continue doing this.

Naomi laid down across the bed, looking up at Q with a slight
smile on her face.  From this vantage point, he loomed over
her, imposingly masculine and extremely desirable.  She raised
her hand, running it over his chest, and tracing her way down to
his waist.  Her hand went under his tunic, touching his warm,
bare skin.

Q shuddered, and Naomi ran her hand up his side, skimming his
warm skin, delighted by his responsiveness.  Q seemed to think
he was inept in bed, and in truth, he didn't know much about
what he was supposed to do here.  But he had something better
going for him.  He overreacted so much to minor stimuli, to a
kiss or a bite, that just touching him provoked a sensual
response.  She loved that.

Q captured her hand.  "No.  Don't do that.  I'm supposed to be
pleasing you here."

Naomi shook her head slightly, smiling.  "Sex isn't a contest. 
You don't have to follow some set of rules.  Whatever please
either of us is all right.  It's not some sort of manual or book
you need to go by."

Q froze, humiliation at being caught rushing through him in a
sick tide.  She knew.  He felt like he'd lost control, angry at
Naomi a little, but truly shattered inside because of how hard
he'd been trying.  Even though he was doing this to be under
control of their sexual encounters and to keep his own control
over his body, he had also made himself vulnerable to her,
because he'd was trying to please her.  Her recognition that he
was making the attempt let her see into him, let him see that he
cared about her.  He was hideously exposed.

Before Naomi could say a word, Q bolted, off the bed and out
of the room.  She laid there for a moment stunned.  What had
just happened?  What did she say?

Naomi found him in the common room, curled into a fetal ball
on the couch, clutching a pillow to his chest and staring at
nothing.  His face was coldness itself.

She knelt next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.  

He shook it off.  He didn't want her.  He didn't want to
acknowledge her at all, but her touch repelled him.

Naomi sat down, not knowing what to do.  She could see he
hurt, and it was pretty obvious what had done it to him, but his
coldness warned her off.

Q ignored her, locked into his own world of pain.  His hideous
appearance and devastating ineptitude flashed in front of him,
causing him to moan softly to himself.  He was a selfish,
clumsy bastard and he knew it.  Naomi's hormones deluded her
into accepting him, but that didn't mean he was capable of
doing what he needed to keep her.  He couldn't do it.

The only alternative he had was to drive her away before she
left him on her own, or was taken away from him.  As much as
he hated her at the moment, it would be easy.  He needed her,
and she knew it.  That alone was terrible.  But there was also
the reality that she could now be used as a weapon against him. 
He couldn't bear to repeat the horrible anguish he had gone
through during the transwarp incident.  All of his vulnerabilities
had been exposed then.  His need for her, his contemptible
weakness and his own susceptibility to her.  Forcing Naomi
away deliberately would hurt less than having her ripped away
from him when he had grown even more attached to her.

"Q?"

He straightened up, and with as much self-possession as she'd
ever seen, tore her ego into tiny shreds.

"I hate you.  I have never liked you.  I have difficulty
restraining my nausea when I hear you mention the word 'love'. 
The only purpose for your presence in my life was the
temporary fulfillment of my physical needs, and frankly, now
that I'm required to do something about yours, it's too much
trouble for me to bother with.  You are a selfish, self-absorbed
cow with an unnatural fixation on sexuality and I dislike you
and abhor you."

Naomi could only stare at him.  She'd never heard such a
complete denunciation of her character and motives.  Why was
he saying these things?  Why now?

"Are you completely unintelligent, woman?  You have no
interest for me.  I've gotten what I want from you and I'm
done.  You were fun, and not you're not."

"What does this have to do with what just happened in there?" 

She wasn't supposed to insert relevant questions.  She was just
supposed to get angry and leave.  He shrugged dismissively,
"Your castrating, idiotic behavior and complete dearth of
manners have bored me."

"Uh huh.  Looked like you were upset to me."

"I'm unsurprised that someone of your inferior intelligence
misinterpreted my actions."

He seemed serious about getting rid of her.  She'd really hurt
him this time.  She could keep up the word battle for a good
time, not being nearly as lacking in I.Q. points as he was
alleging, but that wouldn't help what was really bothering him. 
Wouldn't help her temper or her ego either.

"Are you deaf as well?"

She shrugged.  Time to pull off the gloves.  By now, she had a
pretty good idea of what he was upset about, and she was angry
enough herself to say it, even though she wouldn't have said
normally.  "So you're mad at me because you don't know what
to do in bed."

"Finally the truth comes out."  All of his doubts he'd ever had
about her were confirmed.  Righteous anger consumed him. 
"You ugly sow.  You only came after me because no one else
would have you.  I don't want your pity or need it.  It was an
amusing diversion, but I no longer need your self-serving
predatory attacks when I can do better on my own."

Naomi sat there, raging inside, wanting to strike out, to tear and
wound him until he bled inside as well as out and begged for
mercy, but she couldn't.  It wouldn't help.  He wouldn't be
striking out if he didn't already hurt inside as badly as she did
now, or worse.  That didn't stop her from wanting to scream, to
kill.  But she knew it would be meaningless.  What she really
wanted was to go back to what they'd had, and trying to kill
him wouldn't give her that.

She could retaliate and escalate the battle, trying to force him to
an apology and an understanding of how badly he'd hurt her
feelings.  Or she could beat him into a bloody pulp and make
him beg for her forgiveness.  The idea was momentarily
intriguing.

But it wouldn't give her what she wanted.  Hitting him wouldn't
do it, and arguing with him would just get her feelings ripped
into shards now that he was arguing for real.  In all of their
previous dialogues, his insults had been merely pro forma and
she had known it.  These insults were different.  They carried
emotional force and destructively twisted truth.  Knowing that
he meant every word only made them hurt worse.  If they
hadn't, and hadn't carried an element of truth as well, she could
have shrugged them off.

Naomi stood up, towering over him, hands deliberately
unclenched at her sides.  "You've hurt my feelings and I'm
leaving now."  The rage trembled over her and a fine grey mist
filled her vision.  Her words shook with the force of the anger
within her.  "I doubt you care, but I'll be back.  You can't get
rid of me this easily."

"I just did, didn't I?"

Naomi stalked off to her own room without looking at him, her
nakedness not bothering her at all.  

As soon as she was out of their quarters, the rage left her, and
she felt shaken.  Guilty because he'd been largely right, angry at
him for hurting her feelings, and shaken by the rage which had
come over her.  

She needed a place to think, something to do to get the anger
out of her system.  And she knew exactly where to go.

****

Q watched Naomi storm out of the room, feeling a sense of
sneering triumph.  He'd gotten rid of her.  He'd finally found
something that flapped the unflappable Naomi, and watching her
get angry was almost as satisfying as watching a Vulcan lose
their unshakable calm.  She wasn't perfect, and he'd proved it. 
Proved it very well in fact.  He'd skewered her right and
proper.  The look on her face when he'd called her an ugly
sow... absolutely marvelous.  There was no question that he'd
managed to completely insult and enrage her.  He'd won this
round, even she'd have to admit that.

She deserved it too, for what she'd done to him.  She'd
humiliated him and insulted him.  Completely shattered his ego. 
There was no question that he'd had to take her down a peg,
give her a taste of what it meant to insult him.  

He'd won, and the feeling was delicious.  Of course, she'd left
before he could really gloat about it, but she'd be back soon,
pathetic as she was, and he could stomp all over her little heart
then.  Q smirked.  It would be fun.

****

High on a mountain cliff, Naomi set her pro and then grappled
for the next hold, pulling herself up by main force.  She hadn't
done this in weeks, having been too concerned over Q, and her
lack of practice showed in how hard it was for her to do it. 
That many people couldn't have done it at all never crossed her
mind.  She probably should have done it as a free climb, but
didn't feel like trusting herself when her mind was distracted by
her earlier argument with Q.

Her muscles screamed and she held there for a moment,
sweating.  Just about every muscle in her body hurt, but it was
a good hurt.  If it got to the point where everything felt weak
and watery, she'd stop, not needing to exhaust herself fully to
work out the rage still thrumming deep inside her.  What she
was feeling now was just the pain of disused muscles though,
nothing to get excited about.  

The horrible scene with Q flared up again in her mind, and she
firmed her mouth, starting back up the cliff.  No amount of
physical exertion was exorcising the demons in her mind,
although sinking the pros into the rock was oddly satisfying.  

****

Naomi didn't come back.  Not in fifteen minutes, not in an
hour, not in two hours.  Q wasn't waiting for her, of course, he
had far better things to do than to wait for someone like her, but
it was beginning to get on his nerves.

The things he'd said to her had been based on truths, half-truths
and even, he half-admitted to himself, fears of his own about
what she would eventually do.  But he had been proven right. 
He had been right all along about her.  Naomi had left him, just
as he'd known she would.  She couldn't stand him, nobody
could stand being with him.  That was a pathetic thought, and
he censored it immediately.  This was all her fault.  She had
hurt him, she had injured him.  She was the one who'd
promised to love him, promised to let him degrade her.  She
had broken her promises, not him.  He had sworn to nothing.  

And he was left with nothing.  Except a feeling of emptiness.  It
would have been more entertaining if she was still there to
insult, but she was gone and he was once again alone. 
Aloneness was not entertaining.  Insulting himself was scarcely
a pastime he enjoyed.  And no one else would hold still for it. 
Very frustrating.  

Q brushed the thoughts away, and turned back to his computer,
trying to bury himself in work.  Wouldn't everyone be so
pleased when they found out he'd actually caught up on this
trivial nonsense?  Q thought about it.  He'd have to hide the fact
he'd done it, somehow.  Or just delete it when he was done and
claim the computer system ate it, forcing the Data Management
department to restore it from their backups.  Yes, that was a
pleasing little plan.

****

Her balance shifted, and Naomi grunted, holding onto the rock
to keep from falling.  Little bits of shale skittered down past
her, disappearing into the void behind her, hitting nothing, the
bottom too far below to echo back any sound.  

She ignored that.  Falling no longer petrified her, as it had when
she first started doing this.  And she was on the holodeck after
all.  This wasn't nearly as dangerous as it would be if she were
actually climbing a real mountain.  Not nearly as much fun,
either, but you had to settle for what you could get.

Q had said only the truth, but it was a hurtful truth.  

He'd accused her of being selfish and self-absorbed, which was
entirely true.  Dharvi certainly would never have left her if
she'd have paid more attention to him and less to her own work. 
But she'd sworn that she wouldn't make that mistake again,
restructuring her life so that she had outside interests, things to
do other than program.  Too late to save her relationship with
Dharvi, though.  He'd been gone, and was now happily
married, with two small children, the last she'd heard.

She was still selfish now, despite her earlier lesson.  She wanted
something from Q, and worse, it was something he didn't want
to give to her.  She wanted him to care about her.  Naomi
knew, realistically, that he was self-centered and vicious and
that wanting him to love her was stupid as well as impossible,
but that didn't stop her from wanting it.

Naomi shook her head regretfully, wishing she'd thought to
wear a helmet.  Her hair was tied back, but the fine strands kept
falling into her face, a constant annoyance.  She ignored it, and
continued climbing, muscle strain ignored in favor of emotional
strain.

Q had also accused her of having an unnatural fixation on sex. 
That one really stung.  Why, she didn't know.  Certainly it
wasn't something she'd ever been accused of before.  She was
almost a nun, compared to some of the people she worked with. 
But that charge hurt.  It was just as hurtful as his portrait of her
as a self-serving sexual predator, who only came after him
because no one else would have her.  True enough.  Dharvi had
left, and there had been no one else after him.  

Naomi stopped herself from jamming the pro into her hand. 
That way of stopping her thoughts wouldn't help at all.  Instead,
she threw herself into climbing harder, letting the small scrapes
and abrasions which took her skin off serve as penance for her
thoughts.

So what should she do?  She'd promised Q she'd be back,
although at the time, she'd meant it more as revenge, in that he
couldn't get rid of her, *she'd* get rid of him.  But that was
childish and she didn't plan on flaying him the way he'd done to
her.

But what was she going to do?  Should she just fade away and
leave him alone?  Q didn't seem to like her very much or want
her around him.  What right, other than vengeance, did she
have to stick around and inflict herself upon him?  

Self-pity overwhelmed her.  She was a horrible person, and she
couldn't bear to think about it.  

Then a thought struck her.  Why was she assuming she was in
the wrong?  

The idea was so amazing that she just hung there, oblivious to
the drop below her, oblivious to the growing numbness in her
taped hands, unaware of anything.  

You know, there was a very good chance that Q was just
striking out randomly, having no idea what would hurt her, and
trying to hit some target.  He could very well have been trying
to drive her away, but not from a deeply rooted sense of her
inadequacies and hatred of her.  No, there was a very good
chance he was trying to get rid of her for some reason of his
own which had nothing to do with her.  Why she thought that,
she had no idea.  Maybe it had something to do with the hints
Medellin had been trying to slip into their conversations.  Or
maybe it was just the way Q reacted to everyone that gave it
away.  He didn't have any other friends, nobody really could
stand being near him at all.  Maybe it was because he did drive
*all* people away from him, for some inscrutable purpose of his
own.  Maybe it really had nothing to do with her.  She just
happened to be too close, and so he was getting rid of her.

There was a tremendous freedom in that idea, something that
really made her happy.  She could see it, too.  Her guilts lifted
off her, and she felt free.

Time to rappel back down to her starting point then.  She made
for a ledge, ready to redo her equipment.  Rappelling would be
fun in her present mood.

She understood now.  It all made sense.  He didn't really hate
her, didn't even really know her to hate her.  He didn't even
know about Dharvi.  All he wanted to do was get rid of
someone who had gotten too close to him.  To strike out at her
for his own humiliations and pain.  She could understand that.

Naomi set her cams and looped the rope, then sat there on the
ledge, catching her breath.  The view was magnificent from
there, cliffs dropping down into deep valleys, the actual bottoms
lost in shadows below.  The sky blazed a bright yellow,
proclaiming that this was not Earth.  Not that she disdained
Earth, but you could only climb the same mountain so many
times before it became old hat.  Naomi needed challenges, and
the holodeck provided her with an endless supply.

In the quiet stillness, she reflected on her problem.  She only
had one option if she wanted to try to keep their former
relationship:  to apologize to him, and hope he accepted it.

If he didn't, then she'd know he really did want her gone.  If he
did, she had a chance.

Apologizing wasn't a self-sacrificing action or a particularly
noble one.  Yes, she would be humbling herself to him, but she
would be doing it for her own benefit and her own reasons.

Naomi got up, then backed down the cliff, opposite to the drop. 
This was the part she loved the most, stepping off into
nothingness, trusting the harness to support you.  Do it wrong,
let the tension ride on the rope rather than the harness, and
you'd smack right into the cliff face, if you didn't go hurtling
off into the abyss.  Do it right, and it was distilled terror.  She
loved it.  There was something exhilarating about facing a basic
human fear like falling, and forcing yourself to confront it, to
master it.

Naomi swung down, starting the rappel, losing herself in the
rhythm of it.

Although crawling for Q, humbling herself to him, would give
him a weapon against her, it would also give him something he
wanted, something desired desperately.  He might not admit it
he wanted it, but it was something she had promised he could
have -- total power over another person.  It was obvious to her
that he needed that power.  Power was something he'd had and
weakness was all he had now.  He'd, from all accounts,
positively revelled in tormenting others in his godlike days. 
And now, others were doing their best to humble or kill him for
what he'd done then.  About the rightness of his previous
actions, she made no judgment.  He'd been made human by his
peers, which certainly said he wasn't perfect.  But that was
then.  He was incapable of doing those things again.  What was
relevant was his need to exert control over himself, his
environment, and everything in it, including other people.  And
he couldn't have it.  He couldn't control anything in it.  Except
her.  

Naomi looked at the rock face in front of her, her brake hand
holding onto the rope.  She had control over a large part of her
life, and was in fact, proving her control over her body and the
rock right now.  She was risking her life, at least figuratively,
on her ability to control the rappel.  And she needed that. 
Perhaps giving Q what he would perceive as control over her
would be incentive enough for him to try to continue their
relationship.  Realistically, there was no way he could actually
control her.  Probably not, anyway.  But it could be fun letting
him try.  

Of course, there was the question of what incentive she had to
continue a relationship with a self-seeking bastard who pushed
everyone away from him and apparently hated her.  

Naomi always did like a challenge.  

****

Naomi had been gone for almost six hours.  And Q didn't know
when she'd be back.  Or if.  She'd said she'd be back, but how
could he believe that?  Certainly, everyone else on the Starbase
had no tolerance for him.  She was just the same as they were. 
She disliked him just as they disliked him.  And he would be
alone again.

What had he done?  Was it worth this?  His sense of self had
been injured and he had made her pay for it.  Now there was no
one to see his lack of skill, no one to ridicule his ineptitude at
lovemaking.  No one to share it with either, not that he actually
enjoyed that stomach-turning activity that Naomi continued to
force upon him.

In the depths of his mind, Q admitted he missed her.  She'd
been with him for several weeks now, and he'd gotten used to
her presence.  Being alone was almost a vague memory.  The
silence in his quarters was all he had to listen to, and he disliked
it.  Where her presence had once seemed intrusive, it now 
seemed essential.  Of course, she filled the place of a pet, rather
than a companion.  He couldn't relate to her as a full partner to
him; she could not approach his intellectual prowess or vast
background.  But he still missed her in that sense.

Naomi would be back.  She had to.  She couldn't leave him. 
She loved him.  Or at least, she'd said that.  It didn't mean
anything to him, of course, and he didn't care one way or the
other whether she did or not, but it seemed to mean a lot to
humans.  If she cared about him, she'd be back.  But if she'd
really cared about him, she would never have left.  How could
she?

Could he risk having her return to him?  He had sent her away
partially due to his own fears and insecurities.  He feared being
weak, and needing her was his greatest weakness yet.  He was
also terrified of the emotional humiliation she could wreak on
him if she chose, simply by ridiculing his obvious inadequacy as
a sexual partner.  He had allowed her too close.  Naomi knew
too many things about him and his all too human failings.  But
could he survive it if she did not return?

Q paced the length of the room again.  Where was she?

"Computer, location of Dr. Allen?"

"Dr. Allen is in Holodeck Three."

Nice to know she was really upset by him.  So upset she went
off and played, while he sat here and fretted.  He had a good
mind to tell her off.  

****

When Naomi heard the door open, a noise drastically out of
place on this quiet cliffside, she stopped her rappel, wrapping
the rope around her leg to hold herself in place.  Dangling from
the rock, she looked quizzically at the intruder.  It was Q.  "I
thought you didn't do holodeck programs?"

"Could you come down from there?"

Naomi looked at him.  There wasn't anywhere for someone to
stand here, with the sheer cliff dropping down a thousand
meters to the rocky ground far below, so the holodeck had
compromised and provided an archway in the cliffside, about
two meters down from her own position.  Q's complexion was
positively ashen.  What was wrong with him?  

"I can talk just fine from here."  She was hanging from her rope
at the moment, being in the middle of a downward rappel;
although she might get dizzy talking to someone who was more
or less upside down in relation to her, she could stay there
pretty much forever.  

"Please?" 

Okay, not forever.  Naomi let out the line and swung over to
where he was, dropping lightly down next to him.  "Yes?"

Q didn't say anything to her, just stared fixedly out at the
mountain vista, one hand holding onto the holodeck archway.

She scrutinized him carefully, wondering.  "Are you scared of
heights?"

"No!"

"Then what?"

"Could you get away from the edge there?"

Naomi looked down.  She was a good half meter from the drop
off, and still harnessed.  She was about as safe as a person
could be.  "I'm not in any danger."

Q was visibly sweating, not moving from the archway. 
"Please?"

Naomi couldn't refuse him anything he asked of her, not when
he did it in that tone of voice.  Something was obviously
bothering him, although she didn't know what.  "Computer, end
program."  Suddenly Naomi was standing in an empty holodeck,
the black and yellow pattern reassuringly evident.  "Is that
better?"

He stared at her, then turned and walked away without saying
anything.

Naomi followed him, still wearing her harness and gear,
although the rope had conveniently disappeared, catching up
with Q outside in the corridor and grabbing him by the arm. 
"What *is* your problem?  First you hate me, and then you
come and talk to me and then you run away.  What's wrong
with you?"

Q spun on her, shaking her off.  "I thought you were going to
die there, all right!  And I didn't like the idea!"

He looked at her then, really looked at her.  In the artificial
lighting of the starbase, Naomi's disheveled appearance was
even more startling.  Her hands, arms and legs were all
abraded, some of the scrapes bleeding slightly.  She had a
bruise on her chin, just above where he'd hit her before, where
a rock had struck her on its way to the ground.

Q was visibly disturbed.  "What is *wrong* with you?"

Naomi looked at herself, didn't see anything out of the ordinary,
then looked back at him.  "Huh?"

"Are you some sort of pain junkie?  Do you *want* to destroy
yourself?"

"No and not particularly.  I'm not in any pain, and I wasn't
trying to kill myself.  I *like* rock climbing."  Naomi kept the
tone of her voice level, trying to convince him.  "I was in no
danger, Q.  I was solidly roped, and even if the rope failed, I
was in the *holodeck*.  The safety interlocks would have
prevented me from getting killed.  At least, I hope they would. 
I've never actually tried it."

Humiliation washed over Q as he realized what a scene he was
causing over something trivial, and how out-of-control he was. 
He could tell by the way she said it that safety interlocks on the
holodeck were something everyone knew about.  She was
probably dying trying to keep from laughing at him.  He took a
deep breath.  He had to get control back, he had to get away.  

Q drew himself up disdainfully, pulling an elegant facade over
his useless weak feelings.  "Well, if you're planning on coming
back to our quarters, do something about that blood.  I find it
nauseatingly barbaric."

Naomi stared at him, then looked down at herself again.  She
had a few minor scrapes, that was all.  Not all of them had
bled, but the ones that had were very minor.  She looked up
again, but by then, Q had gone.

****

Before going back to their quarters, Naomi had not only had her
scrapes fixed up, for which sake, she'd endured a lecture from
Li on first of all, wearing proper protective clothing in the
holodeck, and secondly, not wasting his time on trivial issues,
but she had also taken a shower and changed clothes.  She
wanted to make absolutely certain that there was nothing in her
appearance for Q to find fault with.  Not that doing so would
keep him from finding fault if he wanted to.

Hesitantly, she walked into the main room.  "Q?"

He was posed on the couch, feet up, all sardonic elegance.  He
lifted his chin and looked at her, arching an eyebrow. 
"Fetching outfit.  I preferred the one you were wearing earlier. 
It was so... brief."

He was at his most formidable, and she had a lump in her
throat.  This was terribly hard now that it mattered to her. 
When she'd first gotten him to let her stay, he'd been equally
formal with her, but it hadn't disturbed her because she had
nothing to lose.  Now she had too much to lose.  However, she
still had to treat him the same way as before, flippant and
irreverent.  Never hard for her.

"My climbing harness turned you on, eh?  Men seem to have
that reaction to it, although I wouldn't have figured you for the
bondage type."

"Please.  Spare me your twisted sexual fantasies."

Q could keep this up forever, and Naomi knew it.  It wasn't
getting them anywhere.  Time to tear the scab off and get at the
festering wound beneath it.

She walked around the couch, going to her knees in front of it,
facing Q, who looked past her, out at space, as if the stars there
were infinitely more interesting than Naomi was.  Despite the
appearance of not caring, all of Q's attention was focussed on
her.  

"You were absolutely right, Q," Naomi said, putting all the
sincerity she could muster into her voice.  "Everything you said
earlier was true."

Taken aback, Q looked directly at her.  "Of course it was."

"I apologize for what I said to you.  It was wrong, and I was an
evil person even to think those things."  Naomi stared levelly at
Q, trying to show him that she meant every word of it.  "I'm
sorry I hurt your feelings and I deserve to be punished
horribly."

"Yes, you do."  Q studied her.  Why was she giving in to him? 
"I don't trust you.  You're trying to trick me."

Naomi's gaze never wavered.  "I've made myself utterly
vulnerable to you, completely open.  You can hurt me any way
you like.  That makes me the weak one."

Actually it didn't.  As far as Q was concerned, what she was
doing took more strength than he would ever have, more
strength than he *had* ever possessed.  He imagined himself
doing the same thing she was doing, laying himself open to her
to flay him at her whim.  He shuddered.  He couldn't do it. 
The very concept was anathema to him.

Which didn't stop him from taking advantage of it.  "What
makes you think I want you here at all?"

"You haven't thrown me out yet."

Good point.  "I can't.  Remember?  You've forcibly foisted
yourself on me."

Naomi scoffed.  "If you really wanted to get rid of me, you
would, and you know it."

Q stared at her, at her heart-shaped face and piercing green
eyes, which seemed to see into him, despite the fact that he
knew her psi rating was nil.  Did he really want to keep her? 
Could he risk the emotional price she was calling on him to
pay?  He didn't need a hostage against his good behavior, and
he most definitely did not need someone who was intimately
aware of every flaw and foible he possessed.  No matter how
good the person in question was capable of making him feel.

 "Get out."

"No."

He flicked his fingers at her.  "Shoo.  Bad human."

Naomi didn't move, and deep down, Q knew he would have
been disappointed if she had left.  He hadn't liked it when she'd
run away before, and he wouldn't like it if she left again.  Not
that he was going to tell her that.

"Since I'm staying," Naomi said, "do you want to talk about
why you were mad at me earlier?"

Naomi laid her hand on his thigh, and Q was temporarily
distracted, nerves flaring to life, suddenly insisting that he
needed more contact with her body.  He had a sudden image of
himself pulling Naomi up to cover him, her limbs tangled with
his own.  Q banished it, dismissing it back to his subconscious. 
Why did he have these thoughts?  Why did he have to be at the
mercy of such primitive hormonal drives?

"Q?"

He shrugged.  "Was I angry?  I don't remember."

Naomi rolled her eyes.  "Uh huh.  Look, there's nothing to be
ashamed of about not knowing what to do in bed.  Everybody
starts somewhere, and while I'm hardly a blushing virgin
myself, you are.  And there's no disgrace to that.  You don't
have to know everything, Q."

She wasn't repelled and disgusted by his ineptitude?  She had to
be lying.  Or possibly feeling sorry for him.  Naomi had said
she was in love with him, which meant that her thought
processes were deranged by her hormones.  "Do we have to
discuss your sexual  history?"

"Do you want to?"

"No.  Thank you.  I prefer not to talk about such things before
eating.  Bad for the appetite."

Naomi's eyes glinted.  "And of course, having a good appetite
is very important to you."

He looked innocently at her, which meant he was smirking,
since innocent was a look Q was incapable of.  "Of course."

"Then I'll make sure to bring up the subject again after a very
large dinner."

Q realized he'd been outmaneuvered into agreeing to have
dinner with her.  "Large?  I don't believe I agreed to any such
thing."

Naomi shrugged.  "Technicalities, technicalities."  She was
starving, even if he wasn't.  It'd been a long time since
breakfast; she hadn't eaten anything while rock climbing. 
Eating while climbing tended to make her sick.  It was better
for her to not eat or drink anything, get completely dehydrated
and then come back and eat.  Although it had occasionally
dismayed a climbing partner in the past, it worked for her.  On
hard climbs on hot days, she'd take fluids, but only then. 
Otherwise, upchuck city.

But she was hungry now, and she had a perfect opportunity to
coerce Q into eating with her, after what he'd just said.  Eating
with her was something he avoided when he could, and did with
bad grace when forced into it.  She could easily have taken that
as a sign of dislike, but chose to think of it as yet another Q
idiosyncracy, like adoring hot tubs and hating showers.  He still
hadn't forgiven her for dumping him in the shower when he'd
had been sick.  He didn't understand why she'd purposely want
to get wet for anything other than recreational purposes.  Since
she didn't understand why getting wet for hygenic purposes was
unacceptable to him, they were even on that issue.

Eccentricities aside, she had a meal to prepare.  Or replicate. 
Either one.  In a few minutes, she had the table in the common
room covered with plates.  Chicken fajitas, still sizzling, with a
plate of sauteed vegetables next to them, flour tortillas and
another plate of guacamole, salsa and sour cream.  A bowl of
fresh strawberries, set alongside a dish of cream and another,
small server of brown sugar.  A plate of chilled shrimp laid next
to another plate of corn on the cob, just begging for butter.

"I'm not going to eat that," Q said, eyeing the spread with
distaste.  "I'm getting ill just looking at it.  What a revolting
combination of edibles.  Are you sure you weren't a garbage
man in a former life?"

Naomi clucked disapprovingly.  "*I* like it, and I plan to eat a
lot of it.  Unlike you, I'm hungry.  But you should still eat
more.  You don't even eat as much as I do and I'm half your
size."

"No one eats as much as you do."

"Good point."  Naomi sat down, grabbing a tortilla and filling it
with chicken.  She looked up.  "Aren't you going to join me?"

"Since I have to smell it as long as I'm here, I might as well eat
it," Q said with bad grace, seating himself across from her.

Naomi handed him the finished fajita.  "I rather like the smell,
myself."  She picked up an ear of corn and started buttering it. 
"Ah, nothing better than the smell of corn."  She took a bite. 
"Unless it's the taste, of course."

Naomi looked at Q speculatively, holding the ear of corn in one
hand.  "The butter probably has something to do with it."

He looked from her to the ear of corn and back, the thoughtful
expression on her face worrying him.  "What are you talking
about?  No... You couldn't be thinking... That's absolutely
disgusting!"

Laughter danced in her eyes.  Yum.  Hot buttered Q.  Hmm... 
"It was just a thought.  Besides, it wouldn't have any nutritional
value whatsoever.  And Li would have my ears if I got you
hooked on eating food additives."

"Me?  I don't think so."  Dignified, he polished off the fajita
and picked up the bowl of strawberries, dumped the cream on
them, then began sprinkling them liberally with brown sugar.  

"Oh, that's right.  I forgot.  I'm supposed to save all the
disgusting sexual stuff until *after* dinner."

"Don't feel obligated on my account."

"All right, I'll talk about it now then."

He held up his spoon.  "Don't talk about it at all.  Puh-leese.  I
have never known a woman more fixated on sexuality than
you."

Naomi took that one in stride.  "What can I say?  Just being in
your presence is enough to excite the woman in me."

He set down the spoon.  "That does it.  I'm too sick to my
stomach to eat."

"You started it."

"I did not."  Q realized he was enjoying himself.  A half-smile
played across his face.  Why had he been thinking about getting
rid of her?

"Did too."

Q picked up the spoon again, jabbing at the strawberries.  "I
would never start a conversation about something as pointless as
sex."

"Oh, right.  I forgot.  I just seem to be experiencing major
memory loss tonight."

"Don't let it happen again.  I might become bored," Q said,
finishing off on the strawberries and starting in on the shrimp.

"Which of course is the ultimate goal of all mankind, keeping Q
from being bored."

"It was," Q said darkly.  "It isn't anymore, unfortunately."

That hadn't been a bright thing to say, had it?, Naomi thought
glumly.  Q stared at the shrimp in front of him, not eating. 
After a moment, he pushed back his plate, and left the table. 
Saying not a word, he left Naomi alone.  

Naomi put a fajita together and kept eating, wishing she could
go after him, but knowing it might not be a good idea.  After
the spat they'd had earlier, she didn't feel like risking another
one so soon.  It was hard on her ego.  Plus it was a little late to
go rock climbing again today.  Later, perhaps.

****

Q laid in bed, all the lights off except a single dim light, giving
the room the appearance of being lit by moonlight.  He couldn't
sleep.  He could never sleep.  Loneliness filled the room.  This
was the worst time of any day, night, when there was nothing to
do but close your eyes and wait for sleep.  Thoughts preyed
upon his vulnerable mind, and there was nothing for him to do. 
He wished Naomi were here, but she wasn't.  But he couldn't
go and get her.  That would be admitting his need for her, and
he couldn't do that.  

He tensed as a shadowed figure appeared in the doorway.

Naomi entered the room quietly, eyes locking with his, but
saying nothing.  She sat on the end of the bed, nervous about
her chances.  Although they'd been lovers, she couldn't rely on
their previous understanding.  He had made it quite clear this
afternoon that he didn't like the way things had gone between
them before.  And even if he hadn't said it, it was also obvious
that he wanted to be more in control of their encounters, if there
were any future encounters.

Q seemed almost as nervous as she was, although that had to be
a trick of the light.  There was a softness to the line of his face,
a set in his features that gave him the appearance of need.  

"Come to ravish me in the middle of the night?" Q asked
sarcastically, an edge to his voice.  Why hadn't she simply
come to bed with him?  Why was she in his room at all?  He
couldn't stand this not knowing, the complete control she had
over their relationship, and the lack of it he had.  He felt
helpless, and vulnerable to her.

Naomi smiled slightly, acknowledging the riposte.  "No.  Not
exactly.  Actually I wanted to see if you still wanted me to. 
After... after this afternoon, I wasn't sure."

In the dim light, it was apparent how difficult her quiet honesty
was.  As impossible as the thought was, Q could see that she
was serious.  He could send her away, and she would leave. 
That was obvious.  She was making no attempt to manipulate
him or force him to do what she wanted by using his bodily
reactions against him.  She wasn't even dressed for bed.  She
wore the same boring, concealing clothes she'd had on at
dinner.  Not that it mattered.  His body knew why she was
there, and had very vivid images of what they could be doing
together and what they had done together in this very bed.

"You..." he forced the words out, "you... can stay."

Naomi felt a rush of relief, but didn't move from the end of the
bed.  "Thank you."

They sat there, looking at each other, neither one sure what to
do, both unwilling to say something and chance a rejection.

Finally, Naomi cleared her throat.  "Supposing you wanted to
do something sexual for me, which you don't, and you didn't
know what I liked, which of course, you do, what would you
say if I suggested something I might like you to do?" 

Q considered her carefully.  She was trying to save face for
him.  Or insulting him.  Either way, it was too late now, and he
had no other options.  She had already seen his inadequacy, and
he had failed to drive her away.  Medellin's advice to him had
been worthless.  What other option did he have?  On some
level, he admitted to himself that he did want her to stay, did
want to make this relationship work.  She filled a need in his
life, a place which would go achingly empty without her.  Not
that he was ever going to tell *her* that.

"I might consider listening to your proposal.  If I were feeling
generous."

"I believe that's a yes," Naomi said, grinning slightly at him.  

"I suppose you could interpret it that way," Q said
magnanimously.

Naomi smiled, relieved that he'd forgiven her, and happy.  "Do
you remember when I said I'd like you to give me a backrub?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'd say to start there."

"Start there?"  What was she talking about?  That wasn't in the
material he'd read.  She was just humoring him, naming
something to do that wouldn't show him up as being inadequate. 
"Backrubs don't have anything to do with sex.  Why start
there?"

"Because you'd get to put your hands all over my body.  And in
this case, all over my *naked* body.  It's not as pressured a
situation as having sex is, you don't have to have any emotional
connection to the person, and you can back out later if you
decide it wasn't really a good idea.  But if you do like the
person, it's a good way to get close to them without having to
risk a lot in the process."

Q considered it.  Having his hands all over her body didn't
sound too threatening.  She'd given him enough massages that
he had a general idea of what to do.  And this would be
something he could do for her.  Something he could give her for
coming back to him, for staying with him.

"Is this something you'd enjoy?  Sexually?"  

Damn the man.  He was turning her on just by talking to her. 
Purest torture, and it would get worse if he actually did touch
her.  

"Yes," Naomi admitted, then added on the full, honest answer. 
"I'd enjoy just about anything you wanted to do.  Just the idea
that you might want to have your hands all over my skin is
exciting."

All of this disgusting sexual activity he'd been engaging in of
late must be playing havoc with his hormonal levels, because he
found the image exciting as well.

Q stood up, getting out of the bed, and Naomi looked at him. 
"Now?"

"Is there a problem?"

She jumped up.  "No problem.  I just thought you might want
to... well, wait a while, that's all."

He looked at her, his steady gaze making her heart beat faster. 
"Well?"

Naomi turned away from him slightly, unfastening her blouse,
her fingers trembling.  Q stood slightly behind her, and she
could feel his gaze on her.  It was disturbing, and exciting as
well.  

She slipped out of her clothing, and laid facedown on the bed,
head turned to one side, waiting for him.  The silence in the
room was immense, and her skin tingled.  How could this not
be sexual?  

She waited in the silence, unable to stop tears from coming to
her eyes.  She needed this, even more than she wanted it.  To
have him touch her, caress her, all of this would be healing for
the pain he had inflicted upon her earlier.  To know it was
something he wanted to do, had offered to do -- just that was
enough to cause her to forgive him, to strengthen the bond of
love she had for him which he had badly strained.  Not that he
acknowledged its existence, or would she expect him to.

Her nakedness enhanced her feelings of vulnerability from lying
there, blinded, not knowing what he was doing or where he
was.

The bed dipped slightly as he settled his weight on it, and
Naomi shivered, imagining his eyes on her, examining her.  

"Are you cold?"

"No," she said in a small voice.

His hand traced the curve of her back and she shivered again,
body moving against his touch, lifting to offer more of herself
to him.  "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

And then he was sitting next to her and she could feel the heat
of his body next to hers.  He had gotten dressed; the fabric
brushed up against her, rough against her skin.  Knowing he
was clothed made her feel more vulnerable, and perversely,
more excited as well.

Q knelt next to Naomi and started on her shoulders, his large
hands warm on her skin, and gentle.

She considered telling him he didn't have to worry about hurting
her, but discarded it.  What he was doing felt fine, and if he
went any harder, he'd have cramps in his hands afterwards. 
Then Naomi dismissed the thought from her head and gave
herself up to the pure sensation of it.  She didn't have anyone to
do this for her, hadn't had for a long time, and the feeling was
simply one of pure bliss.

Having him there, knowing that he was watching her, taking
care of her, catering to her, that was the best part.  The part
that made this all seem like a dream, rather than something that
could ever actually happen.

But if it was, Naomi planned to not wake up anytime soon.

Q worked on her, unsure that this really was a prelude to sex. 
If it weren't for the occasional sighs and moans she made, he'd
have thought she was unconscious.  This didn't seem anything
like sex.  But she seemed to enjoy it, and that made him feel
good.  At least there was something he could do well,
something he wasn't completely inept at.  He'd actually
acquired a skill.

His hands moved up onto her neck, and she moaned as he found
one of the knots that was giving her a headache.  "Yes, there. 
Oh, that feels good."

He continued down from there, administering his attentions to
her entire body.  

"Q?" Naomi said, her voice relaxed.

"What?"  Q stiffened, expecting a criticism.

"I just wanted to let you know that I care about you very
much."

When he was finished, he patted her back the way she'd done to
him.

Naomi stretched, and turned over, a happy smile on her face. 
"That was wonderful.  Thank you very, very much."

The praise warmed him.  Maybe this sex stuff wasn't as hard as
he'd thought.  

Naomi curled up against him, nestling her head on his lap.  "I
can die happy now."

He pulled a blanket over her and held her, affected by the kiss
she placed on his hand.  Q knew he owed a great deal to her. 
He was enjoying himself, and couldn't remember having been
deeply depressed when Naomi was actually with him.  He
would do just about anything to maintain this state.  He didn't
*want* to be unhappy, even though it seemed that way, given
how long he'd been miserable.  He also didn't want to
experience the fear and doubt again that he'd felt earlier today
when he thought she'd left him.  Although having someone to
care about him and cater to him was not nearly as big a risk as
he'd feared, having her leave now would be devastating.  Could
he risk that?

A thought occurred to him.  Perhaps he could just ask her what
he needed to do instead of relying on Medellin's advice, which
hadn't worked anyway.  Immediately, Q rejected the thought. 
No.  He couldn't make himself vulnerable that way.  Not again. 
He remembered the moment earlier, when he'd frozen on the
bed and *knew* what she must think of him.  He couldn't do
that again.  Certainly not on purpose.  But was there another
way around it?

"I suppose your previous lovers were excited by your climbing
harness," Q said archly.

That was a non sequitur.  But not a subject she minded talking
about.  "Actually, the rock climbing was something I took up
shortly after my enforced celibacy began.  I never had a
climbing harness before then.  But I could go put it on if you'd
like.  After all, you haven't, well..." Naomi shifted languidly,
pressing a kiss into his clothed thigh.

Q shivered involuntarily at the idea and at the sight of her
auburn head bending close to kiss him.  "A wealth of missed
opportunities, then.  I'm surprised at you."

"Surprised?  Why?  You haven't seen the cat-suit yet.  Or my
extensive collection of electrical gadgets," Naomi teased.

"Human sexual fetishes never cease to bore me."

"I could make some more creative ones up if you like."

He waved his hand disdainfully.  "That a race could be so
engrossed by their reproductive activities to spend all their
waking time thinking about acquiring it, and yet need artificial
devices to enhance it, astonishes me."

"But we're tremendously good at it, wouldn't you say?"

"I wouldn't know.  Are you?"

She nipped him very lightly on the back of his hand,
acknowledging his hit.  He had a point.  "I've never had any
complaints."

"Go ahead, bore me with your endless recitations of your
pointless animal behaviors."

"Don't mind if I do."  Naomi twisted so that she was looking up
into his face, taking his hand in hers and playing with his
fingers.  He resisted at first, but then gave in, with a put-upon
expression.  "I personally enjoy just having sex, like we've been
doing.  It's not as pleasurable an experience physically as, say,
being masturbated, but it's a lot of fun just turning a man on
and having him want you very badly."

"You enjoy playing God and leading men around by their balls,
then."

Naomi smiled.  "You could say that."  She looked speculatively
at Q, her voice dropping in a parody of seductiveness, "I also
like it the other way around, though.  Being submissive, you
know."

He arched an eyebrow at her.  "You?  Submissive?  In which
lifetime?"

She stretched sinuously.  "You mean you have no interest in the
idea of doing anything you wanted to me?  The idea of you
having me at your mercy, wanting and begging for your touch
does absolutely nothing for you?"

Actually he did have some strong feelings about that, and having
her head right on top of them was not helping him any.  "Well,
where's the fun in that?"

Naomi sat up, gazing into his eyes, a mischievous grin on her
face.  "Oh, I don't know.  Why don't you let me show you?"

Q stared mesmerized at the slim little redhead.  What had
happened to him?  Over the course of days, at the most weeks,
she'd managed to force her way into his closed-off life, and then
somehow charm her way into his bed as well.  And now he was
actually considering letting her teach him how to please a
woman.  What was he thinking?  He must be insane.  He no
longer had any control over his own will.  He had been taken
over by his hormonal drives, and was completely at the mercy
of the urges of his physical body.  That must be it.  That was
the only possible explanation for his weakness towards her, and
his lack of resistance towards her.  What else could it be?

Q nodded his assent.  "Do I have a choice?"

"No."

Q sighed.  "And exactly in what way am I in control when I
never seem to have any choices?"

Naomi laughed.  "You'll find out."

-end-