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. All chapters of PropinQuity are available by FTP at ftp.europa.com, in the directory /outgoing/mercutio/PropinQuity/. The index is also available by FTP at ftp.europa.com, as /outgoing/mercutio/IndexToPropinQuity.txt. They can also be downloaded through the WWW. The WWW address is: http://www.europa.com/~mercutio/PropinQuity.html. PropinQuity by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com); based on "Only Human" by Alara Rogers Q looked at Anderson's image, a slight smile playing around his face. Being in this conversation wasn't something he liked; to talk about returning to work implied that he wanted to, and while that was true, it was also something he didn't want to admit to. On the other hand, he had all the power in this situation, and he knew it, and he knew Anderson knew it. "I suppose I could condescend to return to work. Tomorrow, perhaps?" Anderson stared levelly at Q. She could swear he was doing it this way just to upset her. There was no chance that they could get people here by then, although there were two people scheduled to show up in the next week for private interviews. Federation scientists did not just hang around on Q's whim to do as he pleased, although apparently that was what he believed. However, Q did want to work, and that was a good thing. Anderson considered the problem, trying to see her way clear to some solution, *any* solution. Then she had it. The Daystrom Institute was fairly close; she could bump some of their people higher on the list. Q might object to having to talk to the less important names in specialties outside his main area of physics, but that was his own problem for not giving her enough notice. "I'll see what I can do. Anderson out." **** Naomi laid Ariadne down. The baby wouldn't sleep long, or at least not long enough, but she *was* sleeping, and that was an achievement all by itself. Even if Q didn't appreciate it. "Finally? Does that thing do nothing but cry?" "You scared her with the way you were talking." "I did not." "Did so." "I deny everything. The only witnesses are biased against me and the trial was rigged." Naomi looked up at him, putting a finger across her lips. "Be quiet. Do you want to wake her up again?" The threat was enough to silence even Q, who sulkily went off to dress for bed. When he came back, Naomi was already in bed. She didn't need as much time, but then, she didn't actually *dress* for bed the way he did. She snuggled close to him as soon as he laid down. There was something very reassuring and familiar about the solid feel of his chest under her cheek, something she liked very much. Q's arms went around her automatically, holding her close to him. It was such a weak desire on his part, to want comfort and companionship, and he didn't feel strong enough to afford to give into it. But he didn't have any other choice, couldn't have done things any differently. And on the whole, it wasn't such a bad bargain. If you didn't count Ariadne. **** To Naomi, it seemed like she had just fallen asleep, if she had actually been sleeping at all. Her dreams or memories, whichever they were, were full of lying there, eyes shut, irritably trying to sleep and not being able to. She should have been able to; her body was completely relaxed, and she was more than tired enough. But she couldn't, and when Q poked her in the shoulder again, Naomi snapped. "Stop it." Q didn't open his eyes. "It's crying. Fix it." Then Naomi heard Ariadne. She must have been asleep; there was no way she could have missed the sound if she had been awake. Naomi looked resentfully at Q, who was curled up comfortably, and who would get to remain that way while she had to drag herself out of a warm bed and wouldn't get back to sleep anytime soon, if ever. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Why aren't you doing anything about it? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep here?" "So was I," Naomi retorted, sitting up. "Doesn't that matter at all to you?" "I'm not the one who decided to have a baby," Q mumbled, closing his eyes again. She'd be gone soon and then he could get back to sleep. Not that he'd been having a pleasant dream or anything, but there was something acutely annoying about being woken up in the middle of the night. Naomi glared at him for a long moment, fully aware that he could see her doing it, then stomped out. As soon as she left the bed, Q stretched out across it, taking the warm space she'd left. There was something very comforting about sleeping there, something about the scent or the lingering aura of her presence that somehow made it better to sleep there than on his own section. But before he could fall asleep, the crying had gotten louder and then something was being dumped unceremoniously on him, as Naomi showered him with diapers and other paraphernalia before setting Ariadne down as well. Q opened his eyes. Ariadne was right there, kicking and screaming. His hands went to his ears, but he couldn't suppress the horrible sound. "What did you do *that* for?" Q demanded, even as he was moving backwards, trying to get away from it and its ceaseless yowling. "I was asleep!" "So you were," Naomi said in a tightly controlled voice. "And now you're awake. Like me." Q pulled his dignity around him, standing next to the bed, and looked suspiciously at her. "I believe *you're* its mother. You're supposed to be awake." "Maybe I don't *want* to be awake," Naomi said furiously. "Maybe I'd like to sleep the night through in blissful selfishness like you." "Selfish? I'm not the one who blithely went off and decided to have a child." Naomi didn't stop shooting murderous looks at Q, but did bend over Ariadne, starting to change her diaper while Q looked on in horror. "You can't do that here! Where am I going to sleep?" Naomi looked at the bed, then up at him. "Why not here? It's not like it's been contaminated or anything because a baby's touched it." Q looked at what she was doing to the baby, and what she was wiping it clean of, and had to restrain himself from retching right there. "I suppose burning it will have to suffice." "Fine, be like that," Naomi said stiffly. "Get me up in the middle of the night. I don't care." "This isn't my fault!" Q protested in what was nearly a shriek. This just wasn't fair. He hadn't had anything to do with this. "I don't care," Naomi repeated stubbornly. "You woke me up." "Only because *it* was crying." "So? You did it." Q folded his arms over his chest and stood there, a rebellious look on his face. "Are you planning on doing this every night?" "Probably." She didn't care right then what effect that might have on him. It would probably make him move out, or throw her out, but it didn't matter much to her. Naomi was bone-tired, irritable, and in no mood to tolerate any kind of nonsense. He sighed heavily. "Then I suppose I'll have to allow you to have your nanny person move in. But only because I'm such a wonderful person, not because I'm responding to your high- handed terrorist tactics." "How philanthropic of you," Naomi said, finishing Ariadne's diapering and starting to clean up. She was still angry with him, but not as much. "You just want to get a good night's sleep." "Which is also your stated goal. Really, Naomi, your brain appears to operate poorly when you haven't had enough sleep." Naomi turned on him. "I *know* that! That's what this is all about!" Stomping past him, she disposed of the diaper she'd used, then stalked back, scooping up Ariadne. "You can go back to sleep now. I'm all done. I'm sure you'll enjoy it much more than I'll be enjoying the rest of my morning." "Like I'm going to sleep there," Q said, lip curling distastefully. "Fine. Then you can come out with me and help me make up silly songs to entertain Ariadne," Naomi said combatively, her defiant tone entirely at odds with what she was saying. "Fine," Q said, grumpily walking out. He didn't intend to do anything of the sort, but he certainly wasn't going to sleep *there*. **** In the morning, Naomi felt sheepish that she'd done something so grandiose as actually throwing Q out of bed because he'd woken her up. It was a gesture more suited to him than to her, and she was deeply embarrassed by it. Q, on the other hand, would not be dissuaded, and had insisted on contacting Fiona Mehler and arranging for her to live in and take over Ariadne's care during the nights. She'd have to take Naomi's room, which didn't discomfit Naomi much. She was already living with Q anyway. The biggest chore would be convincing him to give her any space in his wardrobe. But she could do that later. More important at the moment was what had actually occurred the evening before. Naomi had made up for her rude treatment of Q by teasing him into a good mood. He was going back to his work for the first time today in months. A bad mood wouldn't have been very helpful. And she was happier teasing him than fighting with him. "No, no, no. A thousand times no. What am I saying no to again?" "Awww," Naomi said, pouting. "Don't you love me?" "Whatever gave you that ridiculous idea? I most definitely do not love you and have never done anything that would give you that impression. I loathe you, despise you, and am going to dump you as soon as you start getting old and wrinkled." "So you love me." Q sighed. "You are appallingly one-track minded, even for a human." "I know," Naomi said, grinning. "Isn't it great?" "No." "Oh. So does this mean I can't convince you to come to bed with me?" "Again?" Q asked, voice rising. "Why not?" "Because we have a conference to attend in just under an hour," Q said, straightening his sleeves again. Naomi grinned at him. "So suddenly you're Mr. Punctual? you don't want to go to that anymore than I do. Why not skip it this once?" Q looked superciliously down at her. "If I have to explain it to you, you'd never understand." "You wouldn't want to set some sort of standard, would you?" Naomi asked. She didn't really want to drag him back to bed with her, although she wouldn't have objected much if he *had* given in. There was just something entertaining about teasing him about it, especially when he didn't seem to realize he was being teased. "My dear, I'll have you know I *am* the standard." "Right. So let's be late." "You wouldn't want me to be a *bad* example, would you?" Q countered. "You may have a point there. But good is so much more boring than bad." "Exactly. I'm needed to raise the standards, shoot a little new blood into the tired old customs." "Well, that would do it, if anything would." Naomi sighed heavily, melodramatically. "I suppose that means I should get dressed for work." She looked down at what she had been wearing, which was actually reasonably practical. "Are you sure we have to go?" "Positive. Now stop sulking. It'll do you good to put on something that has some actual style to it." "All right. But you understand, I'm doing this only under protest." "Fine, don't do it," Q said, flicking his hand at her disdainfully. "Look like a ragamuffin for all I care. But you're not coming with me like that. People might think I had taste that low." Naomi grinned ruefully. "Believe me, that's the last thing anyone would ever think. No one looking at the two of us would ever think you had anything to do with dressing me." "More's the pity." Naomi stuck her tongue out at him. "Hey, I like to be able to *walk* after *I've* gotten dressed up." "Technicalities, technicalities. Haven't you ever heard of suffering in the name of fashion? " "Yes, and I don't ever plan to do it." With that, Naomi retreated into her room to change for the day. This was one of the last few times she was going to use it. She grinned ruefully as she thought about that a little further. Q was undoubtedly going to take this as a golden opportunity to tell her exactly what he wanted her to wear, and quite probably have any of her clothes he didn't like destroyed as well. **** They left on time, Naomi dropping Ariadne off with Fiona on their way. "Don't worry about it," Fiona said, smiling. "I can take care of the arrangements for the move. This is what I do." "Are you sure?" Naomi asked, concerned, while Q fidgeted in the background. "I don't want to overload you." "I do this kind of thing frequently. I'll take care of it." "If you're sure..." Naomi said, feeling relieved. She didn't want to have to take care of it, was not looking forward to it. Her expertise laid in areas other than child care and home renovation. "Quite." **** Q stopped short in the doorway of the conference room, instantly recognizing the woman seated at the table. "What, no hello?" Naomi craned around him to see what, or rather who, had caught his attention. There was no one unusual on the schedule, not that Q cared overly much about the schedule. Just an anthropologist here to discuss family structures of some race Naomi had never heard of, although she'd dutifully made a note of it anyway. No Klingons, no one here to discuss the curvature of space, nothing overly controversial. It looked to be a dull morning. The woman inside was of medium height, which meant she'd still tower over Naomi, and rather attractive. Her hair was black and very curly, lightly shot through with grey. She was wearing a sophisticated outfit that, while not overly elegant or out-of-place like most of Q's clothing, instantly made Naomi feel dowdy and unkempt. "Come to gloat over me in my exile?" Q asked dryly, entering the room. After a moment's initial startlement, he'd recognized Queria, couldn't help recognizing her. He'd met her in this form before his exile into mortality, and while it was possible there could be a near duplicate of her, no one would ever carry that same superior attitude the way Queria did. "How very like you." The woman at the table cocked her head. "I should take exception at that, seeing as I'm sharing the same experience." Q made a scoffing sound low in his throat. "Not the same. Never the same. I retain the moral superiority of my position as always." Naomi followed Q in, looking at the other woman curiously. Q seemed to need no introduction, but she had no idea who this stranger was. The woman seemed to realize she was being rude, and held out her hand to Naomi. "Dr. Queria Lang, of the Daystrom Institute." Naomi shook it. "Dr. Naomi Allen." Queria looked at her, assessing the other woman. So this was Naomi Allen? *Doctor* Naomi Allen. She took in the small redhead's casual clothing and the way she was deferring to Q to take the lead, and disliked her on sight. Queria would be polite to the other woman, but how could Ashke have such poor taste? Of course, he was so used to dominating other people, even his own kind, that he'd probably picked someone of the same type here, someone he could completely overwhelm and direct. She pitied Naomi, but Queria really had to have a talk with Q. "Nice to finally meet you." Naomi nodded. *Finally* meet you? A connection clicked that hadn't been there before. This couldn't be who she thought it was. And yet, it had to be, judging by the warmth of the greetings and how well Queria was getting along with Q, something that never happened. *This* was Om, the woman Q had an affair with while he was at the Institute. However, he had implied the relationship was over. Apparently that was not the case at all. She took a seat across from Queria, letting Q do whatever he wanted, which is this case seemed to be pacing. He was nervous, and obviously greatly excited. That only made Naomi feel worse. It'd be one thing if Q felt as guilty as he had the night he'd confessed to her about the incident at the Daystrom Institute. She could have handled that. But for him to be worked up over this woman was too great a trial to bear. "And what brings you here after all this time?" Q asked finally. "I can't imagine that you want to praise me for my accomplishments." "Can't I just be glad to see you?" "Hah!" Q said, letting out a short burst of mocking laughter, not believing that at all. "You'd be perfectly happy to let me die and then come around and say 'I told you so'." Queria shrugged, an evil glint in her eyes. "I suppose there is that. It would be such a pleasure to dance at your funeral. A slow tango, perhaps. I have the perfect dress for it, too." "I knew it!" Q said, a small amount of hurt mixed in with the melodramatic overreaction. "You hate me, just like everyone else." "Why, *darling*," Queria said, drawling the word. "I'm delighted. I'd almost think you care about me and my poor little opinions." Q sniffed visibly. "Nothing of the sort. I was merely remarking on having discovered the truth behind your otherwise flawless facade." "A compliment *and* an appeal to me to like you, both all in one day?" Dr. Lang leaned back in her chair, an amused smile playing over her face. "I can die happy now." "Let me assist you," Q said in a grim tone. "I take it we aren't going to discuss the family structure of the T'Ke'Tya," Naomi interjected dryly into the little tete-a-tete. The two of them turned on her, almost having forgotten her presence in their own self-absorption. Queria was amused by the blatant ploy to get the conversation back on track. "Why don't we discuss the family structure of the T'Ke'Tya? I'm sure Q would be interested in my research on the subject." "The T'Ke'Tya?" Q asked suspiciously. He recognized the term vaguely, knew that he knew what he meant if only he could dredge the memory out of his too small human brain. There was only so much data that the human mind could absorb, and much of what he had known as a member of the Continuum had been lost or abstracted into forms that he knew were gross oversimplications of the reality, although he couldn't say how he knew that. But the T'Ke'Tya... "Yes," Naomi said, taking a kind of bitter amusement out of this. Q obviously had no idea what Om was talking about, which said to her that this was a ploy of some sort. Naomi knew that the woman had been Q's guide when he went to visit the Daystrom Institute, and it only made sense that he would have known something about her research. That he didn't signalled to Naomi that the T'Ke'Tya were some made-up subject which Dr. Lang had concocted to get to see Q. "What Dr. Lang came to discuss? The T'Ke'Tya?" With Queria looking at him knowingly as well, the connection was made. The T'Ke'Tya existed, but what she was referring to was something else entirely, the Vulcan word which meant something very like the Continuum. Q folded his arms across his chest and assumed a haughty pose, grateful that his memory hadn't failed and he wouldn't have to do something as humiliating as actually *ask* what inane subject Queria had on her mind. "And how *are* the T'Ke'Tya doing?" Q asked, brows arched. "Still squabbling amongst themselves?" Some news and catching up would be good, might make him feel like less of an outcast, but Queria had left before he had, and unless the improbable had happened and someone had stopped by to update her on what was really just trivial gossip, then she knew even less than he did. "Of course," Queria said. "Still the same internal politicking. But I was more interested in their views on reproduction." "What's that got to do with anything?" She looked at him levelly, absolutely serious. "The last time I checked, the T'Ke'Tya were stringently against unauthorized reproduction. Something about killing off the parents and the child as well? Does that sound familiar to you?" "Please, enlighten me," Q said sarcastically. He didn't understand why Queria felt it necessary to harp on this. He knew all about the Continuum's views on the subject, and they didn't have any relevance, unless she was still upset about what happened to that couple she'd been living with, the ones who'd made the unfortunate error of deciding to have a child even though the Continuum hadn't sanctioned it. That would make some sense; everyone else blamed him for things that weren't his fault, why shouldn't she? "Do you think they would approve of a child born to one of their number who happened not to be living with them currently?" "If they're still the interfering busybodies I remember, then no," Q snapped. "Does this conversation have a point?" Queria raised an eyebrow. "I understand that you have a daughter. How would you feel if someone like the T'Ke'Tya were to suddenly decide she should die just because she happened to be born without their permission? Can you relate to that?" "I don't *have* a daughter," Q said flatly. Queria looked at him, puzzled. "Excuse me? I was sure I heard from very reliable sources that you and Dr. Allen had a child." Q flushed. "It is *not* my child. The brat belongs to her, and only to her." He didn't want to think about what gossip Queria might have been listening to, what she'd heard about him. She'd said that she was currently at the Daystrom Institute as she did, which could mean anything from more laudatory comments from the fools there to a possibility so horrible that Q didn't even want to contemplate it, that she'd talked to Om. Naomi nodded, trying to get the conversation back on track, and away from a subject which could only upset Q. Om was apparently lashing out at Q for having had a child, and while that kind of jealousy could only gladden Naomi's heart, it was hurtful for him. "It seems irresponsible to me that one of these people you describe would consider having a child, given the penalties." At her comment, Queria left off examining Q and looked at Naomi, her expression enigmatic. "Ah, but you don't understand how much one can feel driven to do so." Q shuddered melodramatically. "Oh, I do." "Perhaps if it weren't forbidden, it wouldn't seem so enticing," Naomi said. Her mouth quirked in a rueful smile. "Certainly I've had second thoughts." "There are good reasons for the prohibition," Queria said. "Oh, please, explain them to us," Q said, aware that he was taunting her. He didn't like the way she was harping on this subject, and he most definitely did not like how she had automatically assumed that Ariadne was his daughter. Even if, for some unknowable reason he wanted a child, it wouldn't be a squalling mortal brat. Queria shook her head, smiling slightly. "I'm sure you're very familiar with all of that. I don't want to bore you, and your time is valuable." "I'm sure we can work out some sort of payment schedule," Q said drily, relieved that she appeared to be dropping the topic. "I could use an indentured servant." Naomi coughed slightly. "Since the doctor doesn't seem to want to discuss what she came here to discuss, maybe we should just invite her home with us." Her voice was acid, but Q didn't catch the implication. He beamed at Naomi. "What a wonderful idea. These conference rooms are so gloomy." He look at Queria. "You really must see what I've done with my rooms. It's not much, but I do believe I've managed to inject a small note of style into the Starfleet standard issue box." "That'd be lovely," Queria said, observing Naomi carefully. The other woman was openly jealous of her, and Queria found herself stiffening in reaction to that. She didn't like the attitude, and she didn't like the notion that Ashke would willingly put up with someone who didn't want him to have any female friends. Naomi seethed inwardly as the woman rose, every moment a reflection of her inner style. She was coordinated, graceful, and Naomi hated her with a sudden passion. She had a momentary urge to ask Q whether he wanted her to move her things out so Dr. Lang could have her room, but bit it off. She didn't want to hear the answer to that one. It all made sense: certainly Lang wasn't *really* here to discuss anything at all about the T'Ke'Tya, even if she wanted to pretend she was. No, Om was here for one purpose and one purpose only, some sort of reconciliation with Q. And there was nothing at all Naomi could do about it. **** The situation in Q and Naomi's quarters was no less tense than it had been in the conference room. More the opposite. In order to have something to do, Naomi had asked for drink preferences and gotten each of the other two something to drink. That had taken less the five minutes, and now she was reduced to having to seethe quietly while Q danced attendance on Queria. Q was hovering over Queria attentively, trying to appear aloof and disinterested, but matching it with an equal amount of eagerness that she like him and what he was doing. But Queria wasn't paying attention to him. Queria watched Naomi casually, doing her best to appear disinterested. She was an anthropologist, after all, and before that, a kind of guidance counselor to the Q. While that didn't quite qualify her as an expert on human psychology, it was experience no mortal could ever hope to match. What she sensed from Naomi was jealousy, envy, and a kind of catering to Q that Queria most definitely did not approve of. Ashke didn't need that kind of treatment; it only bolstered his already huge ego. What he needed was someone who would give him a good kick in the pants when he needed it, and she couldn't imagine this woman ever doing that. Naomi looked stiffly between Q and Queria. She could see how much Q wanted to be with Queria, how nervous he was about this, even if it didn't seem to matter much to Om. And she suddenly couldn't bear to play chaperone for one minute longer. "I'm going to pick up Ariadne. I'll be back. Soon." Queria was certain that the last word was bitten off for her benefit, but didn't make a sign of her knowledge. Certainly Q was oblivious to it, waving casually to Naomi, dismissing her from his presence. Naomi stormed out, and if automatic doors could have been slammed, she would have been slamming them. The large black cat remained behind, however, sitting between Q and Queria, neither watchful or relaxed, merely giving a sense of protective presence. "She's not really your type, Ashke," Queria said, taking a seat. "Not what I'd expect from you." Q looked startled for a moment, but recovered himself quickly. "I *have* a type?" Queria's lips quirked up. "Easily dominated, boring, worshipful of you... yes, I'd say that was a type." He scowled at her. "You don't know anything about me. I'll have you know that on the very infrequent occasions when I've ever been interested in a mortal, that they were invariably unlike the kind of do-gooding ninny you prefer." "Oh, *mortals*," she said, using a very disgusted tone to drive her point home. "Even the most willful of those is easily dominated in comparison, don't you think? Certainly I've never seen you set yourself up in an equal relationship with one of them." "Since I'm not equal, I've never seen any reason to do so." It wasn't completely a lie. Q had the nagging suspicion that he was the inferior one in the relationship with Naomi, but he certainly wasn't about to confess that to Queria. She raised her eyebrows. "How big of you." "Isn't it though?" He studied her carefully, still too wound up to sit down. "And here I thought you'd approve of me finally getting involved in one of those interminable romances you were always preaching the values of. I'm wounded." Queria regarded him levelly. "When I see you maintaining a relationship with someone who causes you grief and who you love as much as they love you, then I'll approve." "*Love*," Q said mockingly. "There's that word again. You seem to attach a great deal of importance to it, dear sister. One has to wonder what warped influences caused you to grow up with such a need for approval. Or perhaps it would be better to say, with such a need for self-deceit." "Maybe after raising you, I feel a need to lie to myself," Queria said dryly. That hurt, and more than it really should. He wasn't going to get any supportive comments from Queria, he knew that, and he didn't really want any. Cozening from her would be the worst insult of all, signifying that she thought he was a child again, in need of reassurance and comfort. Which he wasn't, and didn't need, not from her anyway. "Really, Queria. I'm disappointed in you. I'd think you'd have the imagination to pick a better lie than that." "When did you get to be such a prude?" Queria asked waspishly. "I have relationships and have always had them. Why are you harping on them now?" "When did you stop being one?" Q retorted. "I remember you as being dried up, stultifyingly repressive and unwilling to have any fun at all. Hearing you preach the joys of reckless abandon is enough to make me have my hearing checked. I'd think you'd be happy that I've learned to be more cautious." "People change." "Only when they're forced to. What did they do to you? Pry you away from the education and degradation of young Q with a crowbar?" Queria ignored that, didn't respond directly to it. "Really? And what about you? I remember you as someone who'd do anything for a thrill. And now you're hiding in your quarters like a frightened child, scared of everything, and unwilling to have any fun at all." Q held his breath, purpling. What she had said was devastatingly on target, and he didn't quite know how to reply without giving away exactly how accurate she was. "Perhaps I'm frightened of ending up like you." As a retort, it was weak, but Queria didn't seem to notice. "You could do worse than imitate me. I tell you what. While I'm here, I'll take you hang gliding. How's that?" Q shook his head. "Have you gone mad?" "Oh, come on. A little terror is good for the soul." "I've already experienced enough fear to convince me that there is nothing character building about the emotion." "Well then, I'll take Naomi with me. How's that?" Queria was joking, but Q didn't know that. The thought sent a jolt of dread through him. He'd seen Naomi dangling from the side of a mountain, held up by nothing more than ropes, and that had been more than enough to send him reeling for the exit of the holodeck. Hang gliding would only be that much worse. And he couldn't bear to lose Naomi, wouldn't be able to handle it if anything happened to her. He tried not to think about what would happen when she inevitably grew old and died, being grateful for once that he was stuck in this shell. The likelihood was that he would die long before she did, and for that small mercy, he was thankful. "No!" Q said sharply, quickly moderating it to keep Queria from guessing how much he did care. "Don't you dare offer to teach Naomi. She already knows enough ways to kill herself." Queria tilted her head. "Why shouldn't I show her if she wants to learn how?" "I will personally kill you, dear sister, if you should take it into your head to teach her these things." His tone was very serious, and startled, Queria found that she believed him. She'd known he cared about Naomi, but she hadn't realized that Naomi was this important to him, wouldn't have credited the idea if it had been broached by anyone else. "If it means that much to you, I won't." "It doesn't mean anything to me," Q said, contradicting himself. "I just don't want to end up being responsible for that brat of hers. If you managed to kill her off, Eleanor would be delighted to saddle me with that thing, and I'd much rather its mother had to care for it." "Oh, so that's the reason," Queria said lightly. "I'd be shocked to think it was anything else. Like perhaps maybe you care for someone, a *human* perhaps?" She was taunting him, and Q knew it. "It's nothing of the sort. I would never be involved in anything so involved with sordid emotionality like your own affairs. Believe me, I've had enough of your bad example to know what not to do." "Excuse me?" Queria said, tone hardening. "I believe I always set a very good example for you younglings. I never misplaced asteroid belts or turned entire races green." He would have said something to her about that, but he knew she was just trying to distract him from what was an enormous chink in her armor. "What? You're trying to call that a good example? You made it a habit to pick out a new ephemeral lover once every century or so, and then moped around in a funk after they died. Not only were you a bad example, but you were depressing and boring to be around." Boring was the chief insult Q could level at her, and Queria was aware of that, bristled because of it. "You seem to have imitated me very well nonetheless, little brother. I wonder why that is." "I was obviously led astray in my formative years." "If you were led astray, it was by your own nose, because I did my best for you." Q's hand went to his nose. "I fail to see what the size of my nose has to do with anything. It's a perfectly good nose, and I didn't have it then anyway." She didn't laugh. "You know perfectly well what I mean. The only person who ever led you astray was yourself, and you did a fine job of it all on your own." "Why, thank you, Queria," Q said, smiling. "A compliment. This must be a day for the record books." "If you've fallen so low that you need to interpret deliberately calculated insults as compliments, then far be it from me to stop you," Queria said waspishly. Q was just as annoying as ever, and she didn't know why she kept having these impulses to stop and coddle him when he kept behaving like this. "That was an insult?" Q asked in a melodramatically confused voice. "Really, Queria, you must consider some sort of semaphore system to alert me to when you're attempting sarcasm. You just aren't good enough at it to try to insert it in actual conversation yet." "Perhaps I need to take lessons from you," Queria said drily. "You seem to have a lot of experience in the art." **** Naomi returned with Ariadne, hoping to find that Dr. Lang had left, and certain that she had not. She probably shouldn't have left Q alone with her. From what he'd told her, his encounter with Om had been disastrous, and Naomi certainly didn't want Q hurt in any way by this woman. On the other hand, they probably didn't want to talk freely around her, and if they needed to have a vicious battle of words, Naomi wanted to do all she could to encourage it. Q would inevitably win any such encounter, and then Om would flee in tears and everything would be back to normal. However, when she walked in the door, she saw Queria comfortably ensconced on the couch, sipping from a mug of tea, and apparently entirely at ease. Trying not to sulk too obviously, Naomi carried Ariadne over to her crib. She couldn't let Om know how much it affected her to see someone else with Q, how unhappy it made her to think that Q might very well just pack up and leave. He didn't like having a baby around, and although Naomi thought he was beginning to adjust, this was the worst possible time for Om to have shown up. She could see Q weighing the two of them and deciding that Om was the better bargain. And Naomi didn't like that idea at all. "Oh, you brought it back," Q said in disappointed tones. "Yes, Fiona was more than happy to give Ariadne back to me," Naomi said, smiling slightly at him. "I think she takes after you in the troublemaking department." "I had nothing to do with it," Q snapped back at her. He could well imagine how a two-month-old baby could cause trouble; hadn't it already completely disrupted his life? "And exactly what do you mean by that?" Queria asked interestedly. Q looked between Naomi and Queria. He didn't really want to talk about this, and especially right now. But Queria had a way of getting things out of him. "I... have to change clothes. Try to keep from selling all of my things for diapers while I'm gone, all right?" He fled the room, leaving Queria and Naomi alone together, unaware of what he was unleashing with that action. The tension between the two women was palpable, Naomi keeping a wide distance between her and the person she regarded as an interloper. Naomi glared at Q's retreating back. He *would* leave her alone with her nemesis, with Om. And he probably expected her to play nice, to welcome this intruder. She didn't think so. She was as likely to do that as he was likely to come out of his quarters *not* adorned like a peacock. Naomi suspected they were about to see the most impressive outfit Q owned. Either than or the one which flattered him the most. Naomi wasn't sure which she dreaded more. Either was bad. Naomi would really have liked to talk to Q about this, but he didn't seem to want to be alone with her. And, in truth, she didn't know what she'd say to him. Q would of course deny any involvement with Queria, or if he acknowledged it, she'd be hurt. It was almost better to let things lie than to force a potentially disastrous showdown. But that didn't mean she had to like his ex-lover, or feel anything for her other than a wary, jealous anger. Queria was amused by Naomi's attitude, amused and baffled. What had gone wrong with Ashke that he thought this was the kind of person he belonged with and needed? Was this overprotective attitude reassuring to his tattered ego? If so, he was even worse off than she'd feared. "May I see?" Queria's voice broke into Naomi's thoughts. Naomi looked up at her, a wary expression on her face, knowing what or rather who Queria was referring to. And she didn't want to let Queria anywhere near Ariadne. "I don't think you want to." "Why wouldn't I want to?" Queria asked, not moving from her place near the couch. She understood people too well to intrude on them, and Naomi's posture was virtually screaming to her to stay away. "I've always been interested in children." "Yes, but she's my child," Naomi said, voice tight. "I'm sure that changes things. You don't have to pretend to be interested in her to smooth things over with me." Queria took in a sharp breath. While she *was* interested in children, she had indeed been using the baby as an excuse to break the ice between them. Not that she was going to admit to that and ruin any chance of having some rapport between her and the most important person in Q's life. "*Your* child? And not Q's?" Naomi shrugged. "Genetically, she's his as well. But technically, she's just mine." Queria was quite interested now. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" It was impossible for Naomi to refuse to answer the question; she felt the need to explain, and in any case, it might deflect the interest of the other woman in Q. "Q can't father children. He's irreversibly sterile." Naomi held Ariadne close to her, rocking her unconsciously. "But I wanted to have his child. So I located the person who served as the model for Q's body, and got a sperm sample from him." "Oh, how clever!" Queria said. "So it *is* Q's child, then." "Genetically, yes." Queria was delighted, and depressed all at the same time. This woman had found a way around the Continuum's near absolute ban on reproduction. It simply was not permitted to make new Q without permission, no matter what the method one used. That Q had been rendered sterile did not surprise Queria; it only made sense. But for Naomi to seek out the person whom Q had used as a pattern for his current form... that was an inspiration. Queria was deeply jealous. She had shepherded an entire generation of Q to maturity, a process which took more time than could be described or even understood in mortal terms. In a way, she was still doing it, since she was here checking up on Ashke. But for all practical purposes, her job was over, and she would never be able to go back to it again. She would never again have the experience of raising children who competed with her in every respect, challenging her and forcing her to use all of her wits and emotions to match them. And worse, she would never have children of her own. Not even as a human. Queria had known the Rogers, the two members of the Q Continuum who had taken human form but been unable to resist the temptation of reproduction. She knew what the penalties were, and how absolute and unforgiving they could be. And yet, here was a close relative of hers, Q's daughter, the child she could never have. Queria felt an outpouring of emotion for the tiny baby. "Are you sure I can't see her? I'd very much like that." Naomi looked at Queria, sensing the sincerity in her tone, and reluctantly relented. "All right." Queria came over to them, close enough to see Ariadne, but not close enough to set off Naomi's protective instincts. "What an adorable baby," Queria said, looking at Ariadne with every evidence of delight on her face. Naomi smiled despite herself. She didn't want to like Queria, had already formed an intense antipathy for the other woman, but anyone who thought Ari was adorable couldn't be all bad. "May I hold her?" Queria asked, glancing up at Naomi. Naomi looked unwilling to give Ari up to a virtual stranger, and Queria's expression went persuasive. "I'll be very careful with her. She's such a beautiful baby." Reluctantly, Naomi passed Ariadne to Queria, who promptly cuddled the infant close, making cooing noises. "Aren't you the sweetest thing?" Queria said, completely absorbed in Ariadne. "Yes, you are." Q came out of his bedroom, clothing settled to his satisfaction, and saw the cozy little scene. He looked at them with disgust. "What do you think you're doing with that thing, Queria? It's not even grown, it cries constantly, and you wouldn't *believe* the other disgusting things it does. Why you'd want to hold it escapes me. If I were you, I'd give it back to Naomi before it spit up on me." Queria looked up at Q, frowning. "Don't talk about my niece that way." "Niece?" Q said, tone completely shocked. Queria couldn't be thinking what he thought she was thinking. And if she was, he'd set her straight immediately. The child was no relation to him, and most definitely no relation to her. "Niece?" Naomi repeated after him, almost as shocked. What was going on here? This was Om? That couldn't be right. Queria looked guilty. "Oh, dear. You didn't want me to tell her did you?" "Tell her what? That you're an interfering busybody who's being trying to run my life as early as I can remember?" "Yes, that." Q looked at Naomi, frowning. "Consider yourself introduced." "Then she's not Om?" Naomi said, tone uncertain, needing to be absolutely sure on the subject, but not wanting to insult anyone with what now seemed like a baseless accusation. Q scowled harder. "Of course she's not. Where did you get a ridiculous idea like that?" He turned on Queria. "As for you, stop calling that child your niece. That baby is no relation to you whatsoever. Are you just adopting children at random again? I warn you, the pied piper myth hasn't been forgotten." Naomi looked between them, feeling more amused than threatened by the byplay now that she was no longer typing them as lovers. While she could well picture them involved in the piping of rats away from Hamelin, it was Q she saw in the motley coat, his long fingered hands on the pipe, leading a flock of laughing children. Queria held Ariadne closer to her, glaring at Q. One of the few things she took absolutely seriously was childraising, and she felt almost as protective of Ariadne as Naomi did. She definitely resented Q's attempt to steal her relationship to the child. "Who's Om?" Q threw up his hands. "Go ahead, drag my past indiscretions up and throw them in front of me. You don't even *know* Dr. Owen-Martinez." "Oh, *that* Om," Queria said, voice sounding satisfied. "Very funny, sister dear," Q said, his tone indicating that he found her anything but. "Now put the baby down and we'll talk about it." Queria considered him carefully. The issue wasn't dead yet, but she really didn't want to air dirty laundry in front of a relative stranger, even if this stranger had inadvertently provided her with her niece. There was something positively delicious about the idea of a debauched Q, running about this corner of the universe, hopping in and out of bed with mortals. Dr. Owen-Martinez, Naomi... what more had Q been up to that she didn't know about? "Are you certain about that?" Queria asked determinedly. "I don't see any reason why we can't talk like this." Q cast a pleading glance at Naomi, who grinned at him, and took Ariadne away from Queria, sitting down on the couch. Q followed her, as much fleeing from Queria as anything else. Ariadne grabbed onto Naomi's shirtfront and tried to pull it into her mouth. Naomi held the baby close, feeling a intense sense of relief, both to have Ari back and to know who Queria really was. She would never have thought of Q as having a sister, but apparently he did. And this woman was not nearly as upset by being human as Q was, which was puzzling. "I think she's hungry," Naomi said apologetically, changing the subject as requested. "Not *really* hungry yet, but hungry." "She is very possibly the only human I have ever had the distinct nonpleasure of encountering who eats more often than you do." "Obviously she has good taste," Naomi said teasingly. She was about to lean back against the arm of the couch, but then reconsidered. Queria was family to Q, not company. There was no reason to stand on formal manners. She didn't have to be anymore formal around Queria than she did around Harry. Naomi scooted closer to Q, drawing her legs up under her and resting against him, back against his side. He draped his arm around her shoulders, accommodating her without even thinking about it, Queria's presence no hinderance at all. "I hope you'll show the good sense to leave if you do feed her. We did just eat." Naomi twisted her neck to see his expression, smiling at him. "Are you trying to say you actually want to keep your food down? How bizarre. I thought I'd never hear you say you like eating." "I didn't say I liked eating," Q informed her in lofty tones, "I said I didn't like vomiting. There's a large difference." Naomi grinned and turned back around, settling more closely into him, not replying. She liked teasing him. The biggest incentive to her staying here and feeding Ari where she was had more to do with Q holding her than anything else. It didn't matter to Naomi where she fed Ariadne, but she wasn't going to leave the circle of Q's arm without a good reason. Queria watched the byplay from the seat she'd chosen across from them, a little taken aback. She'd known that Q had changed, but this was something else. Q? Actually comfortable with a mortal? Actually comfortable with *anyone*? She didn't say anything. Queria knew Ashke far too well for that. He'd move just to spite her, and it made for a much more interesting display this way. Queria went back to her previous subject, not nearly as easily distracted as all that. "You know, I did meet Dr. Owen- Martinez," Queria said, not letting Q off the hook. "At the Institute. We had a lovely little conversation." Q pulled himself inward, too self-conscious to actually bolt from the couch, although he would have retreated if he could. Naomi could see his face clearly, and it was expressionless, the kind of mask he wore on a habitual basis to mask his fear and other, less expressible emotions. But his eyes were unhappy. "I'm sure you met a lot of people," Q said evasively. "You could probably bore me to sleep just with a recitation of all their names." He didn't want to talk about this and Queria was forcing him into it. That was the interpretation Naomi made. Perhaps she was reading too much into the situation -- certainly she had no desire to hear about a former lover of Q's -- but in any case, she couldn't stand by while someone was tormenting Q, no matter what spurious relationship that person might have to him. Naomi leaned forward, dragging Queria's attention away from Q. "I think you've beat the subject to death. Is there any other old news you want to catch up on, or do you just like to drag out people's past mistakes and hit them over the head with them endlessly?" Q was almost startled into a laugh. Naomi? Was protecting *him* from *Queria*? He was never going to hear the end of this. Queria would tease him about this, about *him* requiring protection, until he was positively sick of the subject. He really should stop Naomi before she ruined his reputation as an independent bastard. On the other hand, she was doing so well at it, he couldn't really find the heart to ruin her performance. "Oh, she does, she does," Q said silkily, not moving. Queria shot a quick glare at him, then focused on Naomi. "You don't understand what's going on here." "No, apparently I don't," Naomi said dangerously, still holding Ariadne. "You seem to be sniping at Q for no other reason than that it gratifies your ego. From someone who supposedly is related to him, and therefore possessed of some small amount of intelligence, I find that really childish." Queria was floored. "Childish? Excuse me?" She was about to start into an explanation of how spending so many millions of years being the mature one in the family made it so that she couldn't resist the temptation to be a bit childish, now that she had the chance, and how having Q as a brother made it almost impossible not to. But Naomi cut her off before she could say anything. "Even more childish," Naomi said, nodding. "I was going to invite you to dinner, but since I don't think you could get through it without sniping at Q, I think you should just leave now." Queria stared helplessly, unable to say anything. Naomi had outflanked her, and there was nothing gracious she could do at this point. Demolishing her was an option, but then Naomi wasn't Q, and Queria did have some scruples in that regard. And, at this point, there just wasn't anything she could do to prove her maturity but retreat. Even an excuse lacked the dignity that just making her exit would have. "Perhaps we could get together tomorrow?" Queria asked, trying to salvage something from the situation. Naomi nodded, chin still set. "That'd be fine." Q made a face at Queria that Naomi couldn't see, and Queria scowled at him. She wasn't going to let him forget this easily. What was wrong with Ashke that he was hiding behind other people to try to escape her? Couldn't she even have a simple conversation with him without hurting his feelings? Apparently not. Queria took her leave of them, returning to the quarters assigned to her. Sanaharrar followed her out, a black shadow at her heels, taking up a post outside the door. When she was gone, Naomi looked at Q, holding his glance while getting up to walk over to the crib and lay Ariadne down. "Your sister, huh? Lovely family you have there." "In some manner of speaking," Q said. "Certainly she thinks she's related to me." Naomi moved back over to the couch, sinking into it, letting the tension that had been building ever since she first laid eyes on Queria drain away. She was almost as tired as Ariadne. "Did she lose her powers too?" Q felt reassured by her returned presence. "She cheated." "Cheated?" Naomi asked, even as she repositioned herself so that she was leaning against Q, head on his chest. It felt good to touch him, to hear his heart beating and to feel him breathing. There was something very soothing about it. His arm went around her, and Q held her, feeling obscurely comforted by having her close to him. "She's only pretending to be human. Queria likes to steep herself in the most degrading aspects of humanity. I'm only surprised she hadn't done it before." "Pretending? Then she's not really human at all?" "Oh, she's human," Q said, arms tightening around Naomi. He didn't like this subject at all. He felt too much jealousy and bitterness, knowing what Queria had done and how much difference there was between their two conditions. "She can catch a cold with the best of them. But it's all pretense for her. A game without real stakes. Because when she dies, she gets it all back." There was a bitter edge underneath his words that Naomi could hear, a kind of pained hatred and envy for the difference between Queria and himself. She turned in the close circle of his arms, pulling herself up until she was half-kneeling on the couch. His face was mask-like, expressionless, but he didn't retreat, instead coming to her thankfully, needing the comfort she was offering. Naomi held his head against her, feeling rather than hearing the sobbing beginning to move through him, trying to assuage the pain she hadn't caused and couldn't do anything about. In that moment, Naomi hated Queria for ever showing up, for having rubbed in Q's face what he couldn't have, might very well never have again. It wasn't kind at all for her to have come and seen him; it was cruelty itself. It was almost worse that Queria was who she was, and not Om. It would have been easier to get rid of a former lover than Q's sister. Q heard Naomi murmuring soothing words, but couldn't make out what they were. It didn't really matter. It was foolish of him, and indicative of how far he'd fallen as a human, that he'd find any comfort at all in something as insubstantial as an embrace. There was no hope here, no possible solution to any of his problems. The only thing Naomi could offer him was a temporary peace, a purely physical appeal to senses he wished he didn't even have. The horrible thing was that he actually wanted this, couldn't have torn himself away from Naomi under any circumstances, even knowing how pallid a substitute it was for what he wanted, how inadequate a remedy for his troubles. **** Quietly, Naomi rearranged the paperwork, hands moving gracefully over the keys. If it had been up to her, she would have gotten rid of Queria. The woman had upset Q, and disrupted both their lives for no other reason than she'd felt like it. Naomi didn't like her at all. But Q wanted her to stay, had made that quite clear, and now Naomi was doing the work to make it possible. She'd reshuffled the arrangements before, very infrequently, although not because she found it demeaning or didn't know how, but because Q so rarely wanted anyone to stay longer. People would find it odd that Dr. Lang was staying, but not because of any perceived relationship so much as that Q would tolerate her at all. Of course, the idea of anyone on the starbase associating the two of them and thinking Queria was also a Q was ludicrous. The two were nothing alike in personality, although there were some similar intellectual traits. In any case, the work had been done, and now Queria was officially approved to stay as long as Q could tolerate her. The longest anyone had stayed in Naomi's memory was two weeks, and that was more due to the poor person's inability to get into see Q than any scholarship on his part. Naomi didn't know how long this particular stay might last. Although she didn't think Queria knew it, didn't know what she and Q talked about when they were alone or how Q might have broken down, Naomi suspected that it wouldn't be very long. He liked Queria, was enjoying her visit, but it was tearing him apart privately. However, for a few days at least, Q's schedule could be rearranged to accommodate her, with no one the wiser. Q walked out of his bedroom, neatly dressed. He'd been up hours before her, but his toilet required extra attention with Queria here, and Naomi was certain, even though she hadn't done more than dart in and out of the bathroom, that Q had chosen and discarded at least four possible outfits, if not more, before settling on this one. Whatever it was, she liked it. It was red, which always flattered him, and while she couldn't have described it to anyone else, she knew she'd never seen it before. "Would you like breakfast?" Naomi asked, pushing herself away from the terminal. "Or can you eat at all in that outfit?" Q glanced down at his sleeves, then back up at her. "Eating is a learned perversion." "I'll take that as a no." Naomi grinned at him. "Of course, if you're hungry, I could always feed you the food. Then you wouldn't have to worry about getting anything on yourself." "With your motor skills?" Q asked, more just for the sake of jibing at her than because he had any actual intention of eating. He was too nervous for that, even if the tight, padded suit he was wearing would allow for it. Getting a stomach ache from eating was far worse than any hypothetical hunger pangs, not to mention all the other crude indignities attendant on eating. "I think not." "So you're worried I might accidentally kill you with the fork while I'm feeding you sausage?" Naomi tilted her head and studied his outfit. "I wouldn't worry about it too much if I were you. Blood would match the color of the outfit. Now, if you'd worn something in blue or white, then we'd have a problem." "Since I don't intend to eat anything, no, there isn't a problem," Q said snappishly. The door chimed, and Naomi turned. "Come in." Queria entered, looking between the two of them. Her clothing wasn't as impressive as Q's, but it was impeccable. "Good morning." "Another morning person," Naomi said, an irked tone in her voice. "I should have known." "And where's my niece this morning?" Naomi looked over at the door to what had been her quarters. Fiona had moved in the day before, and promptly taken charge of everything. After Q had finally gotten settled down for the evening, Naomi had finished making her own arrangements and transferring her things. When Fiona had shown up, Ariadne had been sleeping, and the transition had been almost unnoticeable. Naomi wasn't sure now whether Fiona would just take Ari for the day and then she'd pick her up later, or if something else would happen. This was the first day they'd put this into practice and nothing was settled. "With her nanny," Q announced smugly. "Where she belongs." "Excuse me?" Q shrugged elegantly. "She's a nuisance. Continually bawling and so on. Let someone else take care of her and put up with her screaming in the middle of the night." "You do *what* with the child at night?" Naomi turned a guilty shade of red. She didn't think she had anything to *feel* guilty about, but somehow Queria's words implied differently. Suddenly her decision to give into Q, to have a few nights when she actually slept, didn't seem so good. "She stays with a nanny, Fiona Mehler. She's a very nice woman." "That wasn't what I asked. Why would you do something like that with your own child? Call me old-fashioned, but I thought a child belonged with its mother. If you don't have her during the day or during the night, why bother having her at all? Children aren't just toys you can put in a box when you're tired of playing with them." Naomi went even redder, feeling cut to the quick by Queria's words. She hadn't been looking at it like that, had only done what seemed necessary in order for her to actually get some rest, but now it looked different. Q came to her rescue. "Old fashioned." Queria's head swiveled towards him. "Tradition can be a good thing." "So can rotting in place, but I've never tried it." "It's only been one night," Naomi said defensively. "I didn't know what else to do." "As far as I'm concerned, it can stay there all the time," Q said. Naomi turned on him, about to lash out him for yet another ill- timed comment on the inadvisability of her having had children at all, but checked herself. Queria was here, and she *wasn't*, not under any circumstances, going to yell at him in front of her. No matter how much he deserved it. Q looked down at her, dark eyes glinting. "Yes? You had something intelligent to add to this brawl?" "No. I could never hope to be as witty or intelligent as either of you," Naomi said in absolutely flat tones. There was nothing she could do in this situation. Queria had her caught in a bind. She could lash out at Q, but she couldn't make him look bad. Not under any circumstances. Not even when Queria was making her feel like a failure. Queria looked between the two of them, sensing that she'd caused a problem. While she would cheerfully have stood there and insulted Ashke all the day long, she couldn't do that to Naomi. For one, Naomi might very well get all huffy and refuse to let Queria see her niece. "Why don't we meet for lunch?" Queria suggested. "I have a few things I'd like to do before then..." "Things?" Q asked rudely. "What kind of things could you possibly have to do, Queria? You just got here yesterday." "That was called politeness," Queria said, not backing down at all. "I'm sure you've heard *of* it, even if you don't recognize it when you hear it." "Oh, politeness," Q said, a glint in his eye. "Lying for the sake of sparing someone's feelings. How appropriate a pastime for you to be engaging in." "Thank you. Coming from the Prince of Lies, that's a compliment." Queria looked over at Naomi. "I'll see you later, my dear." She swept out, leaving Naomi and Q uncomfortably at odds. "I suppose this means I'll have to tell Fiona we don't want her," Naomi said, breaking the silence. "And do what Queria wants you to do?" "It's the right thing," Naomi said, sighing. "I knew it all along, and I gave in to you..." "Gave in? You begged me to let you do it." Naomi wrinkled her nose. "Suddenly you're a lawyer?" She shrugged. "Whatever. At any rate, I knew what Queria's saying was right. I... just didn't want to think about it. Sleep sounded very good to me." Q looked at her, expression disgusted. "Caving into Queria. I should have known you were as weak-willed as the rest of them." "The rest of who?" But he didn't answer. Naomi watched him stalk out, and sighed. What a wonderful day it was turning out to be. It ranked right up there with having her teeth pulled out without benefit of anesthesia. **** Despite the misunderstanding over Fiona, Queria was intrigued by Naomi. She'd at first thought that Ashke had made the mistake of attaching a doormat to himself, but that was obviously all wrong. Naomi wasn't that, but she wasn't easy to pin down either. Her attack of Queria had been quite revealing; that someone would want to protect Q, could ever think such a thing would be necessary was a mystery all on its own. And then there was the question of what had happened to Ashke while they'd gone their separate ways. The last time she'd seen him had been while he was still in good grace with the Continuum, during her near disastrous interlude with the Rogers, when he had forced her to remember who and what she was. If she had been the kind of person who held a grudge, she might very well have never forgiven him for that. There had been a kind of innocence to her life before then, a certain trust and belief in the world, a wonder which could never be recaptured. She was old and cynical again now, and if it did not reach the heights it had while she was a Q, that might very well be only because a human could not feel that much disillusionment and survive. Once her natural cynicism had resurfaced, not that it had ever been deeply buried, she'd understood what Q had done, what he'd had to do, but it had hurt for a long time. And now their situations were reversed, and it was she who had the power to help him, even if the power in question only happened to be a familiar knowledge of Q and a talent for interfering in other people's lives. Queria needed information, wanted to understand Q and what had happened to him. She had the barebones of the facts, but she needed more. He'd changed; she hadn't yet fully grasped the extent of those changes, but he wasn't who she remembered him as. And Q was unlikely to tell her, unlikely to open up to her. And she would have been shocked if he had. Baring one's soul among the Q was tantamount to begging to be killed. She didn't think Ashke had sunk that far. At least, she hoped not. Which left Naomi. Queria was well aware of how much Naomi cared for Q, and vice versa, had seen the little touches passing between the two of them, the way Q seemed to look for Naomi in any room he entered, not content until he'd found her, the way Naomi could offer Q what Queria could never give him, no matter how much she wanted to. Queria was capable of compassion and love, had shared them with many mortals over the years, but the experience was irrelevant here. She couldn't give to Q the way Naomi was giving to him. Lunch would be a wonderful opportunity to talk to the both of them, and to observe more of the fascinating behavior the two of them exhibited together. **** Naomi paced down the hall. While they might very well have an agreement to meet for lunch in the base's lounge, that didn't mean she had to spend the intervening time doing nothing. And after Q had virtually thrown her out, she had a good excuse to seek out her fellow programmers and see what had been happening in her absence. And there was always the possibility that she might be concerned about her job. All the rumors to the contrary, she was interested in being something other than just Q's meek little assistant. it didn't fit her self-image, and it wasn't nearly taxing enough to stretch her abilities. It wasn't even taxing enough to use them. Mediating between a bunch of scientists was rather like being the playground supervisor for a bunch of kindergartners. She needed something to *do*, or she'd eventually go crazy. But, in any case, it'd be nice to see everyone. Some of them had stopped by since Ari's birth, but it wasn't the same as actually going to see them. For the one thing, with Ari there, the baby was the only thing anyone wanted to talk about. And Naomi was getting very sick of such infant-centric conversations. "It's Naomi!" Jinn said, face breaking into a wide smile, as he saw her enter the lab. "But, wait!" He got up and walked around her, examining her closely. "Yes, I'm positive. She's definitely here without Q or an infant. Something is clearly amiss." Naomi held up a hand, stopping him before he went into a full Sherlock Holmes imitation. Jinn knew no bounds; he would happily mount a full scale search for all the missing parties named before, if allowed. She didn't even want to know where he'd gotten the bloodhounds from the last time. "Yes, it's me. And yes, I left them all elsewhere." "Day care?" Saba asked, coming up to them. Naomi nodded, and Jinn grinned. "You put Q in day care? How much did you have to pay them for that?" She made a face at him. "Less than I would have had to pay for you. They know all about you." Jinn shrugged unrepentantly. "What can I say? I never was good at coloring between the lines. And naptime? I don't *think* so. And would you believe the only kind of cookies they had were oatmeal raisin? Yuck." Naomi laughed. "Oatmeal raisin? I'd protest immediately." "I did," Jinn said, with a look like a kicked puppy, "That's what got me kicked out. Apparently armed revolution is against the rules, even if you're only using building blocks." "I'd have used the cookies as weapons," Naomi said solemnly. "Oh, I ate those." "You ate them?" Naomi asked, grinning. "But you said you hated oatmeal." Jinn shrugged. "They were still cookies." Saba looked at the two of them. "You're making me hungry." "I'm not surprised," Naomi said. "It's only, what, an hour or so til lunch?" "Let's take off early," Jinn said conspiratorially. "No one will ever know. They might even be grateful that I snuck out." Naomi looked sad. "I can't. I promised to have lunch with Q and Dr. Lang." "So? Ditch it and come to lunch with us. I'll go get Bronson. You talk to those scientist types too much. You're going to forget who you are." "And who am I?" Naomi asked, a smile on her face. "One of the godlike ones, of course," Jinn said, as if the conclusion should have been perfectly obvious. "A programmer." "I don't think I've been one of you for a couple of months now." "Which is why you need to have lunch with us. C'mon. Pleeeasse?" Jinn asked wheedlingly, with all the practice of a man with a pre-adolescent son. Naomi shook her head. "I'd really like to, but I can't. I *promised*." Jinn sighed heavily. "And I know how you feel about your promises. I'll never live down the Autin project, will I?" "It was your idea," Naomi said. "I had nothing to do with it." "The Autin project?" Saba asked quizzically. "Wasn't that the one where Jinn..." He held up his hands. "Stop, stop, I surrender. Unconditional surrender. Just be kind to me and remember, I have a family to support." "We accept, but, well, you know what they say," Naomi teased wickedly. "What?" "Never let them give you to the women." Jinn looked between Saba and Naomi, then gave up. "I'm going to hide at my station where it's safe. No one will ever look for me there, and I can go back to a world where I'm not being threatened every ten seconds." "That'd be boring," Naomi said. "I'd rather be alive and bored than dead and... actually, no, I wouldn't. Never mind." Jinn walked off, leaving Naomi grinning at Saba. "I've really missed you guys." "As Jinn would say, then why didn't you stop by before? We've been here." Naomi sighed. "I've been too tired for anything like that. You wouldn't believe how much trouble it is taking care of Ari. If it weren't Fiona and her taking care of Ari during the day, I'd... well... I'd probably have lost something by now, most likely my sanity." Saba looked sympathetic. "So are you ever going to be able to come back?" "I don't know." Naomi's expression was doubtful and wistful all at once. "I'd *like* to, but I have no idea how I'm supposed to fit any of this in with what I'm already doing." "I know what you mean," Saba said. "At least you have a life, though." "A life?" Naomi asked disbelievingly, laughing a little. "You call that a life?" "Sure," Saba said. "You're involved with someone, you've got Ariadne, and you do whatever it is you do for Q. That sounds like more of a life than what I have." "You may have a point. But trust me, it's not nearly as much fun as you think it is." Saba smiled and nodded. "I know. Do you see me rushing out to try to do any of those things?" Naomi grinned. "Sometimes I almost forget how brilliant you really are. You always were smarter than me." "Sure. And I was always better looking, too." Naomi studied Saba's chestnut brown hair, tucked sedately into a neat hairstyle, her subdued clothing and fresh-scrubbed features, and compared them unfavorably with her own less well put together self. "Absolutely." Naomi chatted with her former colleagues until it was time to go to lunch. She was heartened to see how many of them actually remembered her, much less appeared to miss her. She didn't want to give this up, but couldn't see when she'd ever find the time. Her previous schedule had allowed her to work on things at home or in the lab as she could, but there just weren't enough hours in the day. She'd be continually struggling to keep up. She'd still try, somewhat, but ruefully Naomi recognized that it would almost have to be relegated to the status of a hobby rather than a career. Unless she wanted to give up sleeping or something other inessential time wasting activity like that. In that glum mood, Naomi went off to the lounge to meet Q and Queria. She didn't really want to go; she would much rather have gone to lunch with Jinn, Farish and Saba. That would have been highly entertaining, especially since Jinn would have insisted on regaling her with all the things she'd missed while she was out. While Q and Queria were not exactly boring companions, that didn't mean lightheartedness came naturally to them either. Although, given how they'd been sniping at each other ever since Queria arrived, it *could* prove to be at least somewhat amusing. When Naomi got to the lounge, Queria was already there waiting, but Q was nowhere to be seen. Naomi came up to Queria, taking a seat at her table. They were well away from anyone who might think of listening in, and Naomi felt reassured by that. She didn't like the idea that this luncheon could prove to be fodder for the gossip mill. "Well, at least *you're* punctual," Naomi said, still feeling in a rotten mood, but trying to sound light-hearted. "And Q frequently isn't?" Naomi shrugged. "Let's just say that some formerly immortal beings have no concept of time and leave it at that, shall we?" "Do you think I should call him?" "No," Naomi said, shaking her head. "He's probably getting ready. He'll be here when he feels like it." It was the truth. While she was rarely on the receiving end of such tardiness, it was a habitual thing with Q. Nothing to get worried about, certainly. "I've been wanting to talk with you alone for a while anyway," Queria said. "So this is rather fortuitous." "Really?" Naomi asked noncommittally, considering whether to bolt. She still wasn't sure what she thought of Queria, and having a little talk with her was not high on her list of priorities. "Yes, really. I'm very interested in you." Naomi shrugged slightly. "There's not much to say. I'm a programmer, or I was anyway, and will be again eventually, when I have the time." At least that much had been settled. There had been some small worry on her part that they wouldn't *want* her back, given all the accommodations they were making for her. "Have the time?" Queria asked. Naomi nodded, hair falling forward into her face. "I haven't been to work in a couple of months. After Ari was born, I just didn't want to, and even now, between Q's meetings and Ari and trying to have any kind of private life, I just don't have the kind of time I need to do that kind of work." "That's something I was meaning to ask you." "Hmm?" "Why is a woman with a doctorate in programming serving as Q's assistant and attending physics meetings? That seems like a waste of your time." Naomi shrugged slightly. "There's reasons. I try to do what I can. I spent the morning trying to hammer out some sort of arrangement so I can do some more work in my own field." "Reasons why you'd be helpful? What kind of reasons?" Naomi looked defensive, backing away slightly. She didn't want to say anything that reflected badly on Q, and Queria's question seemed designed to do just that. "I try to do what I can to smooth things over. I understand the scientific mindset and the ego problems." Queria nodded, a slight smile on her face. "I know what you mean. The struggles can get quite vicious in those ivory towers, can't they?" Naomi smiled and nodded as well, relieved that she hadn't said anything damning. "It's not as bad in my own field, but then we're more practical and less theoretical." She grinned at Queria. "The more meetings you go to, the more it softens your brain. Those physics people are all talk, no do." Queria smiled, a silky threat. "I suppose Q would be amused to hear that." "He'd probably claim he said it. He doesn't think of himself as being one of them." "Doesn't think of himself as a physicist, or as part of humanity in general?" Naomi looked cautiously at Queria. That was getting dangerously close to something she didn't want to answer. "Do *you* feel like you're part of humanity?" Queria accepted the deflection gracefully. "Yes, actually. Not as much as I did when I was a child." "When you were a child?" Naomi asked curiously. "You didn't just become human, like Q?" Queria lifted an eyebrow. Had Q told Naomi nothing about her? "Yes, when I was a child. I wanted to experience the whole mortal life cycle, from birth to death. I didn't know what I was until I was almost entirely through my adolescence. So I do feel like I'm human in some ways." Naomi nodded thoughtfully. "Brainwashed at an early age, I guess you could put it." Queria laughed. "That isn't quite the way I'd put it, no." Naomi shrugged, as if to say it wasn't particularly important how Queria put it. She was sure Q would have put it that way though. Naomi sipped at her drink and considered getting lunch. Q hadn't shown up yet, and she really didn't want to eat until he got here. If he arrived and they were already started or done, he wouldn't eat at all, and that wasn't particularly desirable. On the other hand, she *was* getting hungry. "What attracted you to Q?" Queria asked, looking directly at Naomi, who showed no inclination to meet her eyes. "He isn't the easiest person in the universe to love, and yet you seem to care for him." Naomi glanced up briefly, an enigmatic smile on her face. "You do, don't you? I'd think you'd understand if anyone would." Queria felt a surge of frustration at the evasive answer, at what so far had all been evasive answers. "Of course I do. I raised him; I *have* to love him." Naomi shrugged. "So why should I feel any differently?" There were any number of replies Queria could make to that, but none of them fit this particular situation. Naomi wasn't stupid; she was avoiding the question. And while Queria could have directly pressured her on the subject, she didn't want to do that and possibly risk losing any chance that Naomi would cooperate with her. At least, not yet. "No reason. I just wanted to get a different perspective on the situation." That was true, but it sounded weak, even to Queria herself. "How is he? He seems better." "Better than what?" "Than what I'd heard of him. It was common knowledge that he'd become human; the scientific circles were all abuzz with it from the first." "Common knowledge?" Naomi asked, feeling a burst of outrage. "You mean, you knew from the first that he'd been exiled like this, and you never came to see him?" "No. Not when what I heard was so..." Queria was searching for the right word, but Naomi cut her off. "So depressing, you mean." "Something like that. But he's apparently gotten better, and it all seems to be due to you..." Naomi interrupted again, still upset with Queria over her earlier comment. "I can't believe your nerve. Q isn't good enough to come see unless he's whole? You couldn't spare a minute out of your busy schedule to reassure him that he wasn't left alone?" Naomi's tone was bitter. "I suppose Q is only amusing to you as a play toy. If he's broken, you'd rather just wait for someone to fix him than try to put the pieces back together yourself." Queria was studying Naomi with a fascinated look. She'd gotten it all wrong, but it was interesting nonetheless to hear such a spirited defense of Q. "That's not the way we work. It would have be unethical to show up earlier, and a waste of everyone's time." "A waste of time?" Naomi exclaimed, truly angry now. All she could think of were Q's suicide attempts, the crushing despair he'd felt, and how isolated he felt from any family. She'd been trying to give a little of that back to him with Ariadne, but if this was what his family was like, perhaps that would be a bad thing. But she couldn't give Queria any of the satisfaction of detailing how crushed Q had been. Even to make her point, Naomi couldn't do that. Queria nodded. "It worked out for the best, didn't it?" She got a wistful look on her face. "Not that I wouldn't have *liked* to help Q, but he would never have taken it even if I had offered it." Naomi looked dubiously at Queria. "He wouldn't?" She shook her head. "That's one of the things I envy you. You can show him affection, give him support, and he'll take it. If I did..." Her expression turned sardonic. "...he'd take it as a sign that I was pitying him. And of course, he'd be absolutely right." "And this would somehow be a bad thing?" Queria looked at Naomi, balked. There was so much history behind why that was true, and she didn't know if she could ever hope to explain it to her. She took a different tack. "There was nothing I could have done for him. To visit him when he was miserable and suffering would have only been painful for the both of us. If he thought that one of his own people pitied him, especially me, one who had also been reduced to the status of a mere human, it would make him feel that I thought he was worthless and pathetic." Naomi didn't seem convinced of that, but Queria forged on anyway. "And for Q to be able to accept that kind of comfort, even from me, he would have to acknowledge that, yes, he is worthless and pathetic. So either he would have not accepted comfort from me at all, or he'd have accepted it in desperation and then hate himself afterwards, feeling a sense of self-loathing for having accepted the view of himself as something worthless and pathetic. I think the reason he can accept comfort from humans is because he thinks you don't know any better. I couldn't have helped him at all." "That's not true. You could have been there for him. He *needed* someone to care about him, and trying to justify it by saying he would have hated himself afterward doesn't work. You don't know what he had to go through." Naomi was biting her words off, fierce emotion behind them. If Queria had been there, perhaps Q wouldn't have been so unhappy as to suffer two suicide attempts. She herself had entered his life almost too late; Q had been dangerously on the edge when she had screwed up her courage and taken the chance. Queria shook her head sadly, repeating what she'd said before. "I couldn't have done anything. Q would never have accepted comfort from me." She felt for Naomi, could understand the protectiveness and the love the other woman had for Ashke, but it didn't change anything. Visions of Q in his bleakest times swam before Naomi's eyes. She saw him lying on his bed, nearly catatonic after his suicide attempt brought on by Anderson trying to get him to work on transwarp. And there were others, that she hadn't seen, but knew about, and they choked her throat, filling her with vicious emotion. "And that's an excuse for not even having tried?" Queria felt frustrated. "You don't understand..." "Of course not. I'm only a lowly human. How could I ever hope to understand one of the Q?" "You're taking this all wrong." Queria looked at her, deciding to be utterly honest, at least on this one point. "Being a Q is largely irrelevant to my life. If I had my way, I'd rather Q weren't here at all. His presence brings back old memories and old responsibilities I'd rather forget about. I care about him, but there are reasons, *good* reasons, why I chose to leave the Continuum." "But, unlike Q, you'll be going back," Naomi said, not entirely sure on that point, and asking for confirmation. Queria nodded. "They still might take him back. There's no way to be certain." "I guess not." Naomi looked down, feeling a little sorry for Q. Queria was evidently the best of his acquaintances, and that wasn't saying a whole lot. Of course, her own family wasn't much better. She hadn't seen Zac in ages, communicated only in brief messages; and her mother... Naomi had sent her mother a birth announcement. It had been one-of-a-kind, on real paper, heavy vellum inked with the key facts, Ari's full name, birthdate, weight, length... and she hadn't heard anything back. Not a word. It had been over a month, and she'd had no response at all. She hadn't thought she was expecting one, had considered it a mere gesture of politeness at the time, but now that she'd done it, she found her heart clenching painfully every time she thought about the note, thought about her mother's continued rejection of her. "Enough about me, though." Queria's expression turned cunning, and she smiled at Naomi. "I'd like to help you, if I knew what to help you with. He'd never take advice *directly* from me. But coming from you..." Her voice trailed off and she smiled sweetly at Naomi. The words "I'd like to help you" hit Naomi square in the face. She heard them less often now that Medellin was no longer a presence in her life, but she still got them from other people, particularly such individuals as Diana Ashe, whose patronizing ways could not be dismissed with a few curt words. There was nothing Naomi wanted less than help with her life. "Thank you, but no." "Excuse me?" "Thank you, but no, I don't need your 'help'," Naomi repeated, less patiently. "I'm not having any problems and I don't *want* advice from someone who thinks abandoning him when he was in need was a good idea." Queria recoiled from Naomi, as if all the sweetness had suddenly sloughed off to reveal something much more ugly and deadly inside. "I don't think you understood what I meant. I certainly wasn't trying to imply..." "Yes, you were," Naomi said tightly. "And all the pretty words in the world won't cover it up." "I just wanted to help you. I know Q better than anyone else, and I could..." "You don't know him at all," Naomi said flatly. Queria looked at her curiously. "What makes you say that? I assure you, I'm well-acquainted with all of his faults and foibles. I've known him longer than your race has been in existence." "And that's supposed to impress me somehow? The number of years doesn't matter; what you do with them does. And I'm rather underwhelmed by your demonstrated feeling for him." Naomi was sitting forward in her chair now, leaning over the table, as those she might grab for Queria's throat at any moment. "He's very important to me, and I don't want you hurting him." "I don't know what you're talking about," Queria said honestly. "I never intended to hurt him. I only have his best interests in mind. If I wanted to hurt him, I'd've pulled his structure into its component particles a long time ago. Not that I haven't been tempted, mind you." She smiled at Naomi, inviting her to share in the humor of that, but Naomi wasn't having any of it. "I'm not going to tell you anything. All I see is an interfering busybody who can't leave other people's lives alone. It shouldn't matter to you what's happened to him, and I don't see how you have a right to know how he feels or how he is in bed. If you want to know, ask him. Don't go behind his back to me, because I won't tell you. That is, if you really want to help him, which I doubt." Before she could think better of it, feel guilty and apologize for her outburst, Naomi stalked off, almost in tears. She couldn't stand confrontations like that, but she couldn't let Queria do that to her and to Q. It seemed like Queria wanted to know every detail of Q's private life, and Naomi wasn't telling. At that moment, she hated Q for having been late, or not even showing up, as the case might be. She didn't know which it was, but she hated him anyway. He'd left her alone with Queria, in an impossible situation. Queria watched her go, sitting at their table, rolling her glass between her hands. That had been rather interesting. She still wasn't sure precisely what she'd said to provoke such a blow-up, but it was an interesting reaction nonetheless. The girl felt very strongly about Q, far more so than Queria could ever have predicted. Her opinion of Naomi was continually rising, even if the child did seem to be far too easily upset. **** Naomi stalked into the room, surprising Q, who was lounging on the couch. The sight of him lying there, apparently at his ease, touched her on the raw. "Were you even planning to come to lunch?" Naomi said, biting the words off viciously and making an accusation out of them. "Excuse me?" Q asked, drawing himself up, an offended look on his face. "Did you just imply I would voluntarily go anywhere for the purposes of eating?" "So you deliberately skipped lunch without telling me about it?" Naomi was standing just on the other side of the couch from Q, and barely maintaining control over herself. Her voice was trembling slightly, and any moment now, she was going to break down and cry. "I wasn't aware I was under any such obligation." "You promised you'd go," Naomi said carefully, trying to keep the shaking at bay. "I heard you." Q waved a hand. "I'd have said anything to get Queria to leave me alone. You know that. The woman is relentless. I never expected *you* would be foolish enough to actually go." "Foolish," Naomi repeated after him, consideringly, turning the word over in her mouth. "Yes, you could say I'm that." Something was breaking in her voice, inside of her, and she couldn't take it any longer, couldn't hold it back in the face of Q's nonchalant dismissal of responsibility. "I was foolish to ever trust you at all." She stared at him for a long moment, tears sheening her eyes, then swiveled and walked out on him, going to her own room before she completely disgraced herself by crying right there. She knew with the rational part of her mind she should apologize to him; that no matter how upset she was, yelling at him was the wrong thing to do, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but anger for him right now. Q stared after her, talking to himself. "I don't understand humans at all. You treat them well, and every time, they turn on you." The door chime sounded, and Q looked at it irritably. Now was not a good time for interruptions. Or perhaps it was the best time. All the better to show Naomi he didn't care about her and could survive without her intrusive presence. Obviously she was taking herself a little too seriously if she thought she had a right to blow up at him like that. "Come in," Q said, maintaining his poise. Queria entered, looking around her. When she didn't see Naomi, she focused on Q, pacing over to him with the air of a predator. "What have you done to that poor girl?" "Excuse me?" Q asked, drawing himself up to his full height on the couch, offended. What *had* Naomi and Queria been talking about? "What have *I* done to *her*? I assure you, if anything, it's the other way around. I am constantly being imposed on..." Queria cut him off. "Don't try to dilly dally with me, Ashke. I know you." Now Q was really worried. Was she blaming him for whatever had sent Naomi fleeing into her room? He didn't think tardiness was that important. "I didn't realize you'd become so petty in your old age, Queria. Lost your perspective, have you? In any case, perhaps I should ask you, what did *you* do? I sent off a tractable, happy woman to have lunch with you, and got back a banshee. Quite an accomplishment on your part." Queria glared at him. Q was being deliberately obfuscatory and she knew it. "She won't tell me anything. Not a single word about you, not a tidbit, not an anecdote, nothing. If it wasn't too obvious to miss, I wouldn't even know you were living with her. What did you do to her?" A wicked smile spread across Q's face, as he understood what Queria was saying and how discomfited she really was by it. Naomi hadn't done anything to betray him, quite the opposite. "Oh, really?" "Really." Queria heaved a long-suffering sigh. "And believe me, I've tried." "What have you tried?" "Everything," Queria said darkly. "Cajoling, name-dropping, giving her information in hopes she'd return the favor, coercement, annoyance, *everything*." Up until now, Queria had been entirely self-assured of her own abilities in persuasion. She wouldn't have believed there was anyone, anywhere who could refuse her. However, she had failed to take into account Naomi's long-standing relationship with an equally persuasive person, and the amount of fortitude it had taken not to give information to Medellin or the relentless gossips of the starbase. Q felt very proud of Naomi, and an odd sense of contentment that she hadn't betrayed his trust in her. Odd, in that he had already been betrayed by those he should have been able to trust in -- his family, Picard, Anderson -- and yet, Naomi had, for no apparent reason at all, held fast to a minuscule little promise that he had more or less forgotten about a long time ago and certainly never expected that she would keep. "Good," Q said smugly. "Maybe this will teach you a lesson about prying. You always were too interested in everyone else's business." "Perhaps if I'd been more interested in yours, you wouldn't be in the fix you were in." "If you'd taken an interest in me, I'd have fled to the far reaches of the universe to get away from you." "My point precisely," Queria said. "It's rather hard for you to get in trouble when you're that far from anyone else." "I could manage it, I'm sure." "You probably could." Queria dropped baiting Q, still puzzled over Naomi's behavior. "But what *did* you do to that poor girl? She almost seems *loyal* to you, or some such nonsense. She defended you so fiercely I'd think I'd threatened your life instead of just asked a few trivial questions." Q shrugged. "I told you, she's in love with me." He wasn't so sure about that at the moment, Naomi's outburst muddying the waters, but he wasn't about to expose any hint of weakness to Queria that he didn't have to. "It's more than that. If she were just in love with you, she should be perfectly happy to babble endlessly to me about how wonderful you are. But she doesn't seem to want to do that at all." "She should?" Q asked, never having thought of that before, and feeling a little alarmed that perhaps Naomi might not care about him as much as he had supposed. "Yes, yes," Queria said, not really thinking about such a minor issue. "I've talked to scads of students going through romantic affairs. And they're always wanting to talk about how perfect their beloved is and how much they love and adore them." "Oh." Q settled into a half sulk. When Naomi had promised not to talk about him, it had never occurred to Q that she might actually have something *good* to say about him. He'd just seen that she wouldn't be spreading tales of his folly and ridiculousness over the starbase and been content with that. This other possibility was new to him. "So?" "So what?" Q asked irritably. "What are you going to do about it?" Queria asked. "I want to be able to talk to her and not get that wide-eyed, innocent stare back. Do you *know* how annoying that is?" "Perhaps you should consider improving your personality," Q snapped, still feeling a sense of hurt that Naomi wouldn't want to extol his praises. "I'm sure that would go a long way towards getting someone to actually want to speak to her." "Well, I considered trying to seduce her, but thought that might be going a little too far," Queria said, a baiting tone in her voice. "How good to know you still have some scruples," Q said, not particularly liking that image either. He didn't really think Naomi would do anything like that, but then again, he didn't want to think about it either. "But I'll reconsider if you don't help me," Queria said, taunting and coaxing all at once. "I know you've done something to mess with that poor girl's mind. She wouldn't be nearly so adamant about it if you hadn't." "I did nothing." Queria arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him, and Q held up his hands. "I didn't. It was entirely her idea. The first time I met her, she got down on her knees and swore loyalty to me. Said she wouldn't talk about me and that she'd obey me. I never thought she'd actually *do* it." "Well, well, well," Queria said ponderingly. "That's very interesting." Interesting, but irrelevant. "So? Are you going to let her out of it so she can spill the beans to your darling sister?" "Yes," Q said sulkily. "But only because you'll think I have something to hide if I don't." He would have loved to know whether Naomi had good things to say about him, but in any case, had to give into Queria. She already knew everything there was to know about him, and he trusted her as much as he could be said to trust anyone, and certainly more than any human. "That's what I want to find out." She was teasing him with that, but it wasn't really what she wanted. Q *always* had something to hide, and it was usually whatever he was wearing on his sleeve at that moment. She knew how to read him, and while his kinesics were all messed up and she couldn't touch his mind, he was still someone she had spent several centuries of her life raising, and he couldn't fool her that easily. She looked fondly at him. "Do be a dear and apologize to Naomi for me, will you? I don't think she likes me very much at the moment, and although I'd apologize to her, I don't think she'd believe anything I said right now." Q wasn't about to tell Queria that Naomi wasn't very happy with him either right now. "How disappointing. I'd much rather have the opportunity to see you humble yourself in person." "Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" Queria said, sweeping out. "Ta ta, brother dear." Q blew an exaggerated kiss to her, then settled back to his brooding. Today was just not going well. He never could get the hang of Thursdays. **** When Q heard Naomi's door open, he looked up, expression brightening. He wasn't happy to see her precisely; who could ever be happy to see someone who'd just berated him for no reason at all? But she was entertaining and that was more than justification enough. "Are you done sulking now?" Q said, greeting Naomi as she came out of her room. He noticed that she'd changed clothes. The second outfit was as appallingly boring as the first. Eggshell white was a very bad color for her. "That's very tiresome, you know." Naomi glared at him, all hope of regaining her composure gone. He hadn't even given her time to adjust, simply tearing right into her. "It's remarks like that which make me *want* to sulk." "Oh, please. Spare me the pretension that I have any responsibility for your behavior and emotional state." There was nothing Naomi could say to that. He didn't, and yet he did. It was his fault that the situation had developed the way it had, but pointing that out wasn't going to make things any better. They'd just end up having the same argument that had sent her to her room all over again. And she didn't feel like doing that. The only thing to do was the only thing she always did, which was to forget about it, change the subject, and hope he forgot about it too. "I suppose I need to go pick Ariadne up now." Naomi sighed slightly, changing the subject. "No more meetings today, so there's no real reason why I shouldn't get her." She looked at Q, mouth quizzical. "Do you think it makes me a bad mother than I'd almost rather leave her there with them than bring her home?" "I think you should have had the foresight to give it up for adoption after you realized it was too late to abort it. That would have been good parenting." Naomi smiled a tiny smile, feeling somehow buoyed up by that. No matter what, she couldn't do worse than Q's expectations. That much was a comfort. "I don't think so. I probably would have had to tell them who the parents were, and no sane person would want to adopt our daughter." "*Our* daughter?" Q asked scathingly. "I didn't have anything to do with this." Naomi shrugged. "Same thing. Any adoptive parent would have fled in the other direction, screaming, the moment they found out who Ari belonged to. If they were at all bright." "They can't have been very intelligent if they wanted a child." "So you're saying that stupid people are what contribute to the continuation of a species?" "Exactly," Q said, beaming at her as if she were a particularly apt pupil. Naomi shook her head. "I don't think so. If that were true, we'd be living in mud houses right now, as each generation got progressively dumber. Civilization gets better, not worse." Q looked at her superciliously. "You don't have the background to know that or even to intelligently discuss the question. Your race may seem to accomplish more each generation, but it's an illusion. You're all simply monkeys building on the work of the other monkeys who have gone before, each making small improvements and refinements to the achievements of the past. Genius itself is diluted with each passing generation; but you always end up with more monkeys." "And an infinite number of monkeys would eventually write the works of Shakespeare," Naomi said, paraphrasing the saying. "Bah, literature! You don't need an infinite number for that. Two with a keyboard and some bananas and you're done. Now, transwarp. There's something a little more complicated. You might need more there, a few thousand as a starting group and then a decent time interval, but certainly not an infinite number." "And what would an infinite number of monkeys be good for?" Naomi said, going along with him. "Absolutely nothing." "That explains a lot about your opinion of the human race." He declined to answer such an obvious truth or even embroider on it, changing the subject instead to Queria's visit. "I've decided to release you from that tedious oath you made. Talk to your little heart's content with Queria about me, I don't care." "Good for you. But since I'm not going to talk to her ever again if I can help it, I don't think it matters." "You're not?" Q asked, taken aback. "What did you do to her?" "What did *I* do to *her*?" Naomi asked, outraged all over again. "I didn't do anything to her. She was the one asking the snoopy questions and pretending she wanted to help. As if I'd believe that coming from someone who couldn't be bothered to come see you when you needed her." Q shrugged. "You could hardly expect her to welcome me home with open arms." Naomi glared at him, then recoiled, wondering why it was she was arguing with Q over why he deserved some consideration. *He* obviously wasn't insulted by Queria's behavior, so why should she be. Because somebody had to. "You needed her, and she knew you were human, where you were, and deliberately didn't come to see you. I don't care what you call it, to me, that's callous and cruel, and I'm not talking to her again." Q was touched by the thought of Naomi protecting him, although he didn't much like the idea of her protecting him from *Queria*, who would no doubt take it as a sign of weakness on his part. "How enlightened," Q said. "And somehow you're now a judge of morality?" "There's nothing wrong with my morals." Q sniffed. "I doubt your mother would agree." "That has nothing to do with it," Naomi said, already regretting having told him anything at all about her mother or even hinting at the pained relationship between the two of them. Q didn't relent. "I find it rather short-sighted of you to try to judge beings like the Q by the standards you apply to normal, mortal beings." "Why are you defending Queria?" Naomi asked, stung by his repeated insistence on attacking her when all she'd done was try to help him. "She was the one who wouldn't help you, wouldn't come to see you when you needed her." "Did I ever say I *wanted* her? There's nothing in the universe I would have wanted less." He considered that a moment. "Except a child. That's definitely worse." Naomi set her chin mulishly. "Are you trying to tell me that I just chewed out some poor innocent woman you don't even like for not doing something you wouldn't have wanted her to do anyway?" Q's eyes glinted. "Yes. How astute of you to finally arrive at that conclusion. Of course, I've only been trying to drum it into your head for the last few days." "Perhaps I'm not entirely stupid then," Naomi said drily, trying very hard not to strangle him. "Not *entirely*. But you will talk to Queria, won't you?" Naomi stared at Q, not quite able to believe he was bringing this up after all that had gone before. "I don't *want* to talk to Queria." "Fine. Let her think you hate me and don't have any nice things to say about me." She looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. "You *want* me to talk to her." "I didn't say that," Q said defensively. "Sure," Naomi said nodded, folding her hands resignedly. Q wanted her to do this, and although she didn't know why, she could tell it was important to him. What Naomi perceived as Queria's betrayal of him apparently didn't matter to Q in the slightest. Perhaps Queria *had* been sincere. "And I'm a twenty ton sperm whale." "That wouldn't surprise me." **** The next two days passed quickly, Queria and Q spending as much time together as they could stand, each seeking out Naomi as a buffer and for other reasons. Queria did not, as promised, actually teach Naomi how to hang glide, but she did demonstrate the art in the holodeck. Conferences were at a bay, Queria having pre-empted them with her presence. While Naomi and Queria were enjoying an uneasy peace at best, Q was finding that having Queria around was about as annoying as it had been having her around when she was raising him. Some of the scientists he was inundated with were almost as bad, but they would usually provide entertainment in the form of getting upset or leaving. Queria did neither of these, and that was what was difficult for Q to bear. It was early morning, far too early for Naomi to be awake yet, although both Q and Ariadne were up. With Fiona gone, that meant that Ariadne should have woken Naomi, and that the two of them should have been blearily milling around, disrupting everything, but Q had learned his lesson about waking Naomi up in the morning, and Queria had come to call as well, relieving Q of his quandary and immediately taken charge of the baby. While she apparently considered it a mark against Naomi that she would acquire outside help, Queria didn't place herself in that category. She was the child's aunt, and therefore, family. "Do you *have* to do that?" Q asked Queria, as she bounced Ariadne lightly in her arms. She'd already fed Ariadne and gotten her changed, all of which activities Q had tried not to pay any attention to. "It isn't supposed to be carried around like some sort of child's toy." Queria frowned at him. "And how would you know? How many children have you had?" "Exactly the same number as you, oh wise expert in the art of childrearing." Rather than getting upset at the sarcasm, Queria's expression sharpened, anticipating the beginning of a welcome argument. "I've diapered babies with the best of them. I'm sure you couldn't say the same." "Why would I want to?" Q asked, making a face at her. He was reclining on the couch, wearing what for him was an extremely casual outfit, a heavy red velvet robe over a soft black tunic and trousers. "The smell alone would cause any sane person to throw up." "You get used to it." Queria smiled at Ariadne, who was looking at her with bright, interested eyes. "Aren't you the most darlingest thing ever? Yes you are." "Don't go filling her ears with lies, Queria. She might actually believe you." "All the better. She'll grow up well-adjusted, with a healthy amount of self-esteem." Queria grinned at him, looking away from Ariadne for a moment. "I'll have you know that I was told frequently as a child that I was loved and precious and special, and it didn't hurt me in the slightest." "That's a personal opinion," Q drawled, pretending not to watch them. He didn't want to hold Ariadne, wouldn't have wanted to be caught dead with her willingly in his arms. But there was something about the way she was smiling trustingly at Queria, something in the happy gurgle... Q tore his thoughts away from that with an effort. He was being bewitched! That was what it was. All this sweetness and light was brainwashing him. The next thing he knew he'd be making daisy chains and composing sonnets to the beauty of Nian's eyes or something equally demented. "Really?" Without warning, Queria came around the couch and sat Ariadne down in his lap. "Now what do you think?" "Why are people always doing this to me?" Q complained, even as he held onto Ariadne, who immediately clutched onto him. Ariadne looked up at him, tiny face screwing up. "Oh, no. She's going to cry or vomit or something even worse," Q said in alarm. "Get it off of me, Queria." Queria grinned at him. "I think she likes you." Q looked down at Ariadne and back up at Queria, disbelief written all over his face. "It hates me! It always has!" Queria put her finger over her lips and knelt down next to him. "Ssh. You'll upset her." She smiled at Ariadne, which seemed to reassure her. "She can't understand what you're saying, but she can understand the tone of your voice and your expression. And yours say that you're afraid of her and that you don't like her." "I *don't* like her!" Queria glanced up at him. "My one and only niece, and you don't like her. How unfeeling of you." "That's not fair, Queria. You can't use guilt on me to get to do what you want. *I'm* the one who's going to have to put up with it, long after you've flitted off to parts unknown." "I'm sure you'll do a fine job of showing her who's boss," Queria said, a twinkle in her eye. "Now smile at her." Grudgingly, Q smiled at Ariadne. It wasn't much of a smile, and Ariadne didn't appear to be reassured by it. Her face screwed up again, and she started crying loudly. Q thrust Ariadne at Queria. "You take her. I don't want her. I don't want anything to do with the half-baked little bologna loaf." "Does her mother know you talk like this?" "Her mother has a lot more sense than you do," Q said grumpily, as Queria stood up, cuddling Ariadne close and murmuring soothing things to her. He didn't want the baby to like him, didn't want to have anything to do with it, but it annoyed him nonetheless, especially since it seemed to get more attention than he did. "She even had the wit to pick on you for not coming to see me when I first became human." "Well, of course I couldn't come to see you then, Ashke. It was rather widely reported how pitiful you'd gotten, and I couldn't imagine wanting to see you like that," Queria said, her tone lighter than her words. There was a lot of truth there, but it wasn't entirely true. She approved, if cautiously, of Q's progress. The implied compliment was there as well, that she wouldn't have come to see him unless he was no longer like that. Q didn't like that thought at all. Bitterly, he said, "You can't possibly imagine what it's like to feel your life so empty that you don't care if you live or die." Queria didn't even consider pitying him, retorting immediately, "That's exactly how I felt in the Continuum the last few hundred years, except that I couldn't even look forward to dying of old age to get out of it." "Oh, thank you for the lesson," Q said sarcastically. "I'm sure that relates somehow, although it escapes me how your boredom and boringness has anything to do with my struggle, which happens to be *real*." "What's real?" Queria asked, shrugging. "If I'd gotten to the point of boredom where I'd wished myself out of existence, that would have been quite real. And I'm sure you would have mourned not at all." He looked at her then, really looked at her. Queria was important to him, although he'd gotten into the habit of automatically rebelling against anything she might tell him. That she might have problems, *real* problems of her own, had never quite occurred to him. "What are you blathering about? You had us to annoy, and you seemed perfectly content to serve as a shining example of moral rectitude for the rest of your life." "How positively boring." He grinned at her, for the moment in sympathy with her. "There is that." "Tell me, Ashke. Don't you find mortal life even a little bit intriguing? With all of its passions and terrors and emotions, doesn't it have something that omnipotence lacks?" "Yes. A sense of humor." He studied her carefully, feeling a small sense of worry for Queria, that she might actually be serious about this. "Your brain must have softened while you were growing up. I tried to tell you starting off as a baby was a bad idea." "I don't remember that." "Well, I *would* have said it, if you'd bothered to get my opinion." "Obviously, I didn't want your opinion." Q didn't bother to reply to that. Heavily, he said, "I'll bet you were one of those children who cried constantly, too. You always did have loud lungs." "I'll have you know I was a perfect child. Angelic in every way," Queria said, retaliating without even thinking about it. They were both, by unspoken consent, steering away from the more serious conversation they'd been having. There was some reassurance in speaking their fears aloud, in sharing the experience, but not much. Queria could no more throw herself into Ashke's arms than he could throw himself in hers; they would have recoiled in horror the moment they realized what they were doing. But they both needed comfort, needed understanding from someone who knew their situation, each the only one could comprehend what they had left behind and what they faced now. "I suppose the pity then is that you ever grew up." "I grew up. And it looks like you have too. I can't quite believe it. A child, a lover... You've grown positively domesticated, Ashke," Queria said, looking around Q's quarters. He had acquired personal relationships she envied, and had obviously made this place his own, as evidenced by the furnishings, which suited him completely. She would never have dreamed that Ashke of all people would ever settled down like this. He had always been contemptuous of Q who got involved with mortals; to see him giving every sign of being in love with this one was amusing in the extreme. Q bristled. He interpreted the comment as an attack. Queria involved herself with mortals on a regular basis and *always* got her heart broken, went into a deep funk for fifty to a hundred years, and then went out and found another mortal to fall in love with, behavior which Q found totally incomprehension, and had actually gone so far now as to incarnate herself in a human body. How much more perverted could one get? That she stooped to pick on his behavior was intolerable, although entirely in character. She had always felt some sort of right to abuse him. "I believe I haven't done anything which you haven't been dabbling with, and failing at, for the last millennia," Q said silkily. "The only remarkable part is that I managed to succeed. Of course, I've never bothered to try before." "Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all." "There's that word again," Q said, picking at her semantics rather than have to face her argument, which was weak, but nonetheless on a subject he disliked. "I don't understand why you feel it means something. Love is a frivolous delusion mortals use to rationalize their sexual attractions, and for you to apply it to yourself is an unbelievable jest." "I take it you love Naomi," Queria observed in a very quiet voice, one Q distrusted immediately. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Q said defensively. "You did say that love was used to rationalize sexual attraction, right?" Q looked suspiciously at her, not wanting to agree even though that had been what he'd said. "And it's obvious to me at least that you're attracted to her. And you *are* mortal now, so, by your own reasoning..." Queria said, looking at Q, eyes twinkling. "...you must be in love with her." He backed away from Queria, hands going up in the air. "No, no, no. You don't have any idea what you're talking about." Queria grinned, not saying anything. She didn't have to say anything else. She'd made her point and exploded his logic all around him, and that was all she wanted. She really didn't care whether he loved Naomi or not; it would be good for Ashke to fall head over heels for someone, but pressuring him on it was unlikely to aid in that. On the other hand, skewering him with his own arguments was a great deal of fun. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to toy with someone like this. She had too much consideration to do this to a mortal, even if they were up to her level. And Ashke had always been a favorite opponent of hers. Q regrouped, striking out at her. "Really, Queria, such jealousy does not become you." "Jealousy? Of you?" Her tone was scoffing, but her heart was beating hard. In a way, Q had hit it dead on. She was intensely jealous of him, of what he had with Naomi, with Ariadne. He didn't appreciate these things, didn't realize how hard they were to come by or how rare. She could never have a child; the method he had used was unavailable to her, even if it would have been enough for her, which it would not. And she had never had a lover who knew her the way Naomi knew Q, had never even *told* one of them her past. Of course, Ashke had no choice in the matter; everyone knew who he was. But, in any case, he could be himself, didn't have to hide or hold back any parts of him. He could show all of himself to Naomi, and, very evidently, have all of it accepted and even loved. She was desperately jealous of her flashy younger brother and how easily everything seemed to fall into his hand. Even in disgrace, he had to snatch what she wanted, and worse, hold it over her head. "Of course, you're jealous. You don't even *have* anyone right now, do you? If you did, you'd be flaunting them in my face." "I do not *flaunt*. I leave that up to you; you're the flashy member of this family." "It's good to know someone has some taste." Q took a deep breath and looked at Queria. He didn't want to expose himself this way, but he didn't have a choice. She had come to see him; this was the best chance he would ever have to ask her, when they'd already been discussing, or arguing over, semi-serious topics. And although he was almost certain she would reject him, there was a tiny hope, and he couldn't do anything but ask. "Do you think they'll ever let me back in?" Queria recognized the heartfeltness of that simple question, and responded in kind, declining to mock him. "I don't know. Perhaps. If I had anything to say about it, yes." For a brief moment, Q's eyes lit up, but then they dimmed again. He knew the kind of one way trip Queria was on. She'd return to the Continuum when she died and not before. "By the time you get back to the Continuum, I'll be dead." "Not that they would have listened to me anyway," Queria said, lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile. "I've always been thought to be soft on the subject of my charges." He didn't respond to that, still mulling over his previous thought. "I don't suppose I could get you to take up mountain climbing, could I? Or perhaps jumping off cliffs for amusement?" Queria grinned at him. "I'm beginning to feel unwelcome. Could it be that you don't want me around?" "Not at all, sister dear," Q said smoothly. "But the inevitable is the inevitable and..." "And you think if I died, I'd get my powers back and I could argue for you." She placed one hand over his, holding it there even though he jumped in startlement and would have pulled away. Her eyes were full of the sympathy she would normally have hid from him. "I would do that. You have my promise on that. But it wouldn't do any good. You know that as well. I happen to think you've progressed a long ways. But not everyone knows you like I do." Q jerked himself away, standing up and turning away from her, his expression sulky. Her words hurt, but it was more than her words. He didn't like the implication that he was someone Queria felt it necessary to be kind to, or that he had ever had any progress to make. He wasn't that reduced yet. Was he? "Glad to know that I can still count on my family," Q said in bitter tones. "Of course you can." Queria's tone was light, but if Q had been looking at her, he would have seen a worried look on her face. "I'll send you a Christmas card every year." "Remind me to have it checked for explosives." "How tacky," Queria said lightly, "I think some sort of poison dried into the paper would be so much more elegant. Something that takes effect on skin contact." She was fencing with him again, but more for the sake of show than anything else. She would dearly have loved to hold him, to cradle his head against her and reassure him that everything would be all right, that at the very least, she loved him. Not that Q would have held still from that, not from her. For a brief moment, she hated Naomi, who could do that, whose touch Q accepted and didn't flinch away from. "No, no, no, you're missing the point," Q said, pulling away from her in body as well as words. "*You're* the one who's supposed to die prematurely, not me." "Oh, dear. I suppose you're right. I always get those confused. Not that killing you wouldn't be a worthy goal." "Get in line, dear sister," Q said acidly, then remembered what he hadn't yet told her. "Did you know that some of our lovely relatives were actually tipping off various species to my location? My own family was sending hitmen after me." "How appalling." Q nodded grimly. "It's been stopped. A pittance handed out to me for the so-called improvements in my life. A mere sop intended to mollify me for not getting my powers back." He didn't intend to tell Queria about the rest of his humiliating conversation with Q. She would undoubtedly find it funny. Queria nodded, feeling relief. "You always did have a knack for making enemies." Q shrugged gracefully. "They should consider it an honor that I paid even that much attention to them." "They do." Queria had a wicked smile on her face. "They're just seeking to return that honor." Before Q could retort, Naomi came of the bedroom, yawning. She stopped as she saw Queria sitting on the couch with Ariadne, then looked at Q. "Well, that explains why I got to sleep in." "You expected moi to have taken it?" Q asked disbelievingly. "You should go back to bed. You haven't woken up yet." Naomi ignored him. "And I suppose everyone else has already eaten, too. Not my morning." "Perhaps we could have breakfast together. I'd like to continue our talk," Queria said to Naomi. She looked meaningfully at Q. "*Alone*." "I have no intention of remaining in the same room with food," Q said, not wanting to appear as hurt as he felt that he was being excluded. Queria stood up, still holding Ariadne, and Q stood too, wanting to maintain his advantage over her, even if it was only one of height. Queria had always been able to get the best of him, and he hated that. She looked at him, tightly held in, repressed, and obviously uncomfortable at her proximity and felt a deep sense of pity for him. "Perhaps I'll see you after breakfast?" "If I don't have anything better to do." **** Naomi ordered breakfast and sat down. Queria sat down opposite her, taking a cup of coffee and a croissant to be polite, but holding onto Ariadne. She'd eaten earlier, and there was no need to pretend to a hunger she didn't feel. "What did you want to talk about?" Naomi asked, buttering her toast. She'd just about become resigned to Queria's presence. She still didn't quite understand what was going on, but it was obvious that Queria did care about Q, even if she couldn't openly show it and Q refused to accept it. "Q, of course," Queria said, smiling. "I remember him as a hedonist, seeking whatever kind of thrill or fun he could, no matter how wild or forbidden. Tormenting other people, including most of the Q, was his favorite pastime." "It still is," Naomi murmured. Queria nodded. "But even then, he had a capacity to enjoy things. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do. Now..." she looked at Naomi, "I'd have to say he's a prude." Naomi grinned slightly, the unexpectedness and aptness of the comment taking her offguard. "I suppose that's one way to put it." "One way?" Queria said, arching an eyebrow. Naomi gave a polite laugh, responding to the humor of Queria's expression, but was absorbed in her own thoughts. "The one thing I don't understand is why." "'Why?' Yes, that is a difficult question. Almost as bad as 'How?', although 'Who?' and 'Where?' are usually fairly simple." That comment didn't make a whole lot of sense, and Naomi disregarded it. "I was under the impression that Q didn't like... some of the things about being human because he used to be something other than human. That... umm... things were strange or disgusting to him because he used to be an energy being or something like that. But..." "But?" Queria prompted. "Well, you obviously like being human. You don't seem to have any problem with it at all, and I don't understand." "Exactly what 'things' are we talking about?" Queria asked. She had a good idea of what Naomi meant, but couldn't resist prying nonetheless. Naomi couldn't say. There was no way she was going to say, even if Q had given her the go ahead to talk to Queria, even if Queria pried and picked at her until the end of time. However, a non-response was still a response, especially to someone who'd spent most of her life studying people and their reactions. "Oh, *those* things," Queria said, smiling. Naomi nodded. "Yes, *those* things." Queria looked at her. "And Q *doesn't* like those things?" Turning faintly red and trying not to look at Queria directly, Naomi said, "I didn't say that. But he claims to be disgusted by... well, everything. Including eating, and other things like that." "In case this has escaped your attention," Queria said smoothly, "Q has never been noted for his honesty and forthrightness." Naomi looked at her, baffled. "I wouldn't say that. He doesn't actually make a point of *discussing* his feelings, but I know what he means." She made "discussing" sound like a dirty word; after living with Dharvi for a few years, it was one. There was nothing Naomi liked to do less than to drag the obvious out into the open and rehash it endlessly for the benefit of no one. "You do?" Queria asked, interested. "There wouldn't be any psi abilities in your family, would there?" Naomi's brow wrinkled. That didn't *sound* like a joke. But what else could it be? "No, not that I know of. Are you trying to avoid the question?" "What question was that?" Queria asked. "I was merely remarking that understanding Q is a difficult thing to do. To do it without the benefit of telepathy is an enviable accomplishment." Naomi shrugged. "You just have to pay attention. He virtually shouts what he means, even if he isn't actually saying it." Queria smiled. "I guess I'm leaving Q in good hands then." Naomi lifted her eyebrows. "No deposit, no return." **** Q came in the door, and Naomi looked up, then over at Queria, her eyebrows narrowing. "I suppose this is my turn to discreetly disappear so that you can have a heart to heart chat with Q." Queria smiled. "I never said that." "But you'd be delighted if I would." Naomi stood up, and accepted Ariadne from Queria. "I suppose I could find something to do for a couple of hours. Conquer galaxies, enslave humanity, buy baby shoes. That kind of thing." "Why would you want to buy baby shoes for something that can't even walk?" Q asked, as Naomi came up to him. She looked up at him wistfully. He wasn't the kind of person she could just casually kiss goodbye. Although she would have liked it. "It's a style thing. You wouldn't understand." Before he could retort, Naomi was out the door, leaving Q to turn to Queria for understanding and support. "Did you hear that? I wouldn't understand a style issue?" Deeply offended, Q settled himself into a seat on the couch. Queria came over to him. "I suppose it's relative. You wouldn't understand Naomi's concept of style." Mollified, Q said, "Since she has none, that would be difficult, yes." Queria reached over from the seat she'd taken next to him and patted his knee. "As much as I've enjoyed this, it's time for me to go." "Go?" Q repeated in an uncomprehending voice. "But you just got here." "Well, I couldn't stay here forever, you know. You might actually start to like me, or something silly like that." Q felt a pang of loss at the thought. He'd gotten used to having her here, and while she wasn't quite as indispensable as Naomi, there was something to be said for feeling like his own people hadn't abandoned him, that someone who knew his situation understood and commiserated with him. He wanted to say something to her, but couldn't put it as openly as it came out in his head. Queria would torment him mercilessly if he begged her to come back again someday. But he didn't want to risk alienating her either. "You will no doubt inflict your presence on me again," Q said, sighing melodramatically, his voice in direct conflict with the pleading of his eyes. "I suppose I should alert Security to put your name on their list of troublemakers and rogues." Queria was touched. "I might stop by again. But only to see my niece, you understand. Although I suppose I might be forced to talk to you if you happened to be around." "How inconvenient." -the end-