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


Naomi looked down at Ariadne, who was sitting on the floor
playing with her toys and for the moment blessedly quiet.  The
toddler didn't *quite* talk yet, seemingly determined to talk
just like her "dada" when she finally did manage the trick.  The
few things she did say were mostly limited to things which really
annoyed Q, like "dada" and "no".  On a few rare occasions she
would say something more, stringing together polysyllaballic
words in an attempt to imitate the kind of cutting insult Q was
always delivering.  However, Ariadne was still too young to
manage it, even for a precocious three-year-old, and would
invariably end up tongue-tied, frustrated, usually crying, and if
not crying, breaking things.

All in all, it was a lovely sort of family scene.

It had been a little over three years since Ariadne had been
born, and two years more than that since Naomi first came to stay
with Q.  Naomi found it hard to believe it had been that long; to
her, it seemed like only days had passed.  Other people also
found it difficult to believe that it had been that long, but
they were mostly doubters who couldn't believe Q had managed to
somehow sustain a relationship for five minutes, much less five
years.

But it really had been five years, and all the changes at the
starbase, and all the things that had happened in that time only
drove it home.  Saba had left, gone off to get yet another
advanced degree.  Farish had been whisked away to work on a hush
hush secret project, and while Naomi was not overly fond of the
man, she had still been a little disappointed to see him go. 
Jinn was still there, and had even married Trina after they'd had
their second child, a daughter this time.  Naomi had accused him
of settling down and becoming responsible, to which Jinn had
replied with a prank so all-encompassing and horrible that she
had actually apologized to him for insulting him that way.  Not
that that did anything about the goats.

Harry was still on the starbase, although Q and Naomi had nursed
him through a string of broken hearts, as Harry alternately fell
in and out of love with a succession of men who were, in Naomi's
opinion, not worth his time.  Naomi ended up making much of the
peace in those situations; Q's idea of sympathy and comfort was
to tell Harry how much of an idiot he was being, which never went
over too well with Harry, who already knew that.  Which was why
Naomi had to provide the wine, and the distraction that kept them
from being at each other's throats.

In the last three years, there had not been another assassin
successful enough to even get within reaching distance of Q;
Azoth was more than competent and had taken the incident with the
shapeshifter to heart.  And with Sanaharrar there, there was far
less possibility of any repeat occurrences.  Sanaharrar stuck
with them through it all, had apparently no intention of leaving
them, aside from the utterly necessary periodic breaks to visit
her home.  Unsurprisingly, Q had no argument with them, and could
even be heard on occasion trying to force Sanaharrar to go when
he was convinced that he had enjoyed sex too much and thus she
must be in heat again, something which Naomi found quite amusing.

And finally, what had been a near constant stream of visitors for
years had dwindled to what Naomi considered to be a manageable
amount.  They had managed to work their way through the entire
waiting list until everyone who could conceivably want to see Q
had done so at least once, many being so completely offended by
the experience that they never wanted to do it again, and thus
didn't try to get on the list for a second goaround.  Since it
was generally the real idiots who went away feeling wounded, what
were left were mostly people who Q felt were worthy of his
attention.

All in all, life had become remarkably peaceful and settled.

And maybe, just maybe, a little bit boring.

Naomi picked herself up off the floor and went over to Q, who was
lounging across the couch, reading one of the absurdist plays
that he enjoyed so much and Naomi didn't understand at all.  If
she'd been waiting for someone who didn't show up, she would have
just given up on the guy and gone home.  Why someone would
actually stage a play about it was beyond her.

"Do you think our lives are boring?" Naomi asked, pulling up a
footstool and sitting down next to him, facing him.

Q didn't look up.  "If you're bored, you can go count the stars."

"That'll take forever."

"Nonsense.  I did it in, oh, about three thousand years.  But
then, that was *all* of the stars, not just the ones visible to
you from here.  If you're short on time, I suppose you could just
do those."

"Three thousand years?  Isn't that any awfully long time to spend
on something like that?"

He looked embarrassed.  "It's none of your business.  And
besides, I had other things I had to do, not just count them."

"Like?"

"Naming them, their planets, getting to know the inhabitants of
each world... a very tedious process."

"So why did you do it if it was so tedious?" Naomi asked,
distracted from her earlier question.

He looked back at his book.  "You wouldn't believe how some
people overreact when you rearrange a constellation.  It wasn't
like I *lost* any of the stars."

The last bit was said in such a virtuous tone that Naomi couldn't
help but giggle.  "Oh, no," she said seriously.  "Of course not. 
Not *you*."

"Exactly," Q said, overlooking the sarcasm.  "Now go run along
like a good girl and let me know the total when you're done."

"But that won't take me any time at all."  Naomi looked up. 
"Computer, how many stars are visible from here?"

"Working."

Q looked up, slightly annoyed.  "Computer, cancel that."

"Request canceled."

Naomi stuck her tongue out at him.  "What'd you do that for?"

"You're cheating."

"So?  That's what computers are for.  To keep you from ever
having to think yourself."

"And you program these things?" Q set his book down, more
interested in the conversation now than the play.  "May God have
mercy on our souls."

"I thought you didn't believe in God or in souls."

"I never said that."

"Oh."  Naomi gave him a long look, then decided to drop the
subject.  You never discussed religion with Q, since, if
cornered, he would always claim to be his own religion and thus
outside of whatever beliefs and principles other such
institutions were founded on.  "But aren't you bored with your
life?  Doesn't it seem like we should be doing something else
other than just being happy?"

"You prefer being miserable?  How odd.  Perhaps I should have
studied you instead.  I could have gotten quite an interesting
dissertation out of it.  'The Vagaries of Human Emotion'.  I'm
sure it would have been very well received."

"Don't change the subject," Naomi said.

He stared back at her, then lowered his eyes, heaving a deep
sigh,  He really didn't want to talk about this.  While he was
naturally not the least bit superstitious, it did seem to him
that the easiest way to ruin the fragile peace he had achieved
for himself was to question it.  Sulkily, he said, "I was
perfectly happy with my life the way it is.  Why can't you just
leave me alone?"

Naomi shrugged.  "Apparently I enjoy tormenting you."

"I'm sure of that."  He glared at her a moment longer before
giving in.  "What did you have in mind?  If your idea of making
my life more interesting is dragging me off to bed, I have to
warn you that I've been studying self defense."

She struggled not to laugh.  "I didn't know you objected to me
quite that much.  Perhaps I should just start avoiding you then. 
A nice domestic spat should liven things up."

Q began to be seriously alarmed.  He didn't quite know what was
going on with Naomi, but if this was her way of gently easing him
into letting him know that she was leaving him, he wanted no part
of it.  First her talk about being bored, and now her denial of
wanting him physically, something she never did, gave him the
definite impression that she had a problem with him and staying
with him.  The only thing he could do about it was to pretend he
didn't notice and didn't care.  But it still hurt.  "Fine.  Do
whatever you want.  It doesn't matter to me."

Naomi cocked her head at him, but couldn't quite figure out what
was wrong.  He was studiously *not* looking at her, and if she
had a couple weeks to spare, she might be able to figure out what
his problem was and fix it, but by then he would have moved onto
another attitude.

Instead, she made her proposal.  "I've been thinking, why don't
we leave Starbase 56?"  In a rush, she got her reasons out. 
"You've seen everybody who wants to see you, and you know
everybody here.  It's a great place and all that, but there's
nothing new to *do* here."

Q was too relieved that her idea didn't mean her leaving him that
he didn't realize that what she meant was leaving a place where
he felt safe for an environment which he had less control over. 
And, even if he hadn't been distracted, he had enough control
over his surroundings that it might not have occurred to him that
it could change.  "I suppose the opportunities for entertainment
*are* limited here."

Naomi nodded.  "There's so many other things you could be doing,
so many other places we could *go*."

Her phrasing sent a tremor through him.  However many places that
might be, it was nothing compared to what he'd known before he
became human, before the Continuum had stripped that ability and
others beside from him.  "What makes you think I'd be
interested?"

"You wouldn't be interested?  Not even in going aboard a
starship?"  That was her trump card.  Naomi had a number of
different ideas in mind, some of which she liked even more than
this one, but this was the one she thought Q was most likely to
respond to.  She didn't think he'd take well to settling down on
Earth and farming, although a part of her yearned to do just
that.  Obviously as a result of early childhood indoctrination,
as Q would have said.

"A starship?"  Despite himself, that awakened something inside
him, some deep yearning that he couldn't articulate.

Naomi nodded solemnly.  "I think we could find a post on a
starship somewhere.  There's enough juicy research missions going
on which you might be interested in.  And *I* can't think of
anyone better suited."

"Of course not," Q said automatically, unable to disagree with a
statement like that.

"I'm sure it will irritate the commodore to hear that we're
leaving," Naomi said thoughtfully.  She knew a selling point when
she heard one, and if Q didn't rise to that bait, she was going
to give up all of her possessions to charity and stand on the
street corner selling matches.

Fortunately she didn't have to worry about how to find a street
corner on a starbase, as Q sat up straight for the first time. 
"Yes, that *would* annoy dear Eleanor, wouldn't it?  I'm sure
she'd enjoy it ever so much."  He remembered how she reacted the
last time he'd tried to leave, when it had turned out that the
whole scheme had merely been a clever kidnapping plot by the
Maquis.  He was sure that she'd like this even less.  Which made
it even more entertaining than the prospect of actually leaving. 
Q couldn't really imagine leaving here, couldn't imagine being
anywhere other than here.  Oh, he'd had a few trips out of here,
had been on the Enterprise before this, and the whole universe
before that, but his focus had narrowed alarmingly in the last
few years until this was the only thing approaching a home that
he knew.

She smiled at him, happy that the idea had taken root.  "Now,
what was that you were saying about worrying that I might drag
you off to bed?"

"I have no idea."

Naomi grinned.  "That isn't much of a defense."

"How could I possibly be expected to remember?" Q asked, glaring
at her for having interrupted before he was finished.  "You say
it so often that separating out any individual occurrence would
be impossible."

"For a man who once counted all the stars, it shouldn't be too
hard to keep a few spoken phrases straight."  She scooted the
footstool closer, and laid her hand on his arm.  He didn't move
away.  "Of course, if you really object, you could just tell me
to leave."

"Would you go?" Q asked acidly, watching her intently.

"No."

"Then I fail to see the point..."

She kissed him, stopping the conversation cold.  His arm went
around her automatically, supporting her against him.  If there
were any arguments made after that, they were mostly of the non-
verbal type, and more over what to do about Ariadne being there
than whether they should be doing what they were so obviously
about to do.

****

Such exciting news couldn't wait long, and Q sailed into
Anderson's office the very next day to tell her how miserable he
was about to make her.

"I want to leave," Q announced, all bright and bouncy, as only
the knowledge that he was disrupting someone's life could make
him.

"Really?" Anderson asked.  "For how long, and where?"

"Forever, and I'm not sure yet.  As soon as I have a destination
in mind, I'll let you know, and then you can have a very nice
party to send me off.  Shouldn't take more than, oh, a week at
the most for me to decide."

"No," Anderson said, shaking her head.  She didn't have a choice
about letting him leave, and had in fact, been expecting
something like this ever since the incident with the Maquis.  But
that didn't mean she was going to let him get away with leaving
this week.  "This time, we're doing this one by the book."

The bounciness disappeared instantly as Q glowered at her.  "I
want to leave, Eleanor, and I'm *going* to leave.  You can't stop
me.  If I have to get..."

She held up her hand, interrupting him.  "Spare me the threats,
Q.  You can leave, if that's what you want to do, although
certainly I have *no* idea why you'd want to part company with
us."

Q still felt sulky that she'd derailed his good mood.  "Sarcasm,
Elly?  I wouldn't want to think you've learned anything from me."

"I haven't."  She looked at him for a long moment.  "We're going
to play this one by the book, right down the line, with all the
paperwork in order and every i dotted and every t crossed."

"I fail to see how antiquated handwriting rules are going to help
anything."

Anderson knew she was being baited, but it didn't help her temper
any.  "I don't want a repeat of the incident with Riker and the
Maqui, do you?"

Q paled slightly at the mention of that.  "Now that you mention
it, no."

"Exactly," the commodore said, mouth turning up smugly at the
corners.  "Now, this is going to take a few months, but if you
start the process today..."

"Months?!"

"Months," Anderson confirmed with a nod of her head.  "You don't
think I can blithely rearrange Starfleet for you on a moment's
notice, do you?"  Apparently Q did, judging by his expression. 
She didn't give him time to make an appropriate retort.  "Well, I
can't.  But I can get you out of here and *safely* elsewhere, if
you follow the rules."

Q didn't look too happy with that, but he did remember the last
time he'd tried to leave and what had happened then.  He didn't
want a repeat occurrence of that either, but he still suspected
that she was stalling him just on principle.

"If I must," he said, dragging out the words.

"You must," Anderson agreed.

****

"So where are we going?" Naomi asked Q after he'd gotten back
from his interview with Anderson.  She could see that he wasn't
nearly as cheerful as when he'd left, but she had to ask him
*something*.

"Where?"

Naomi nodded.  "Yes, where?  There's a lot of different
possibilities.  Would you prefer to participate in some sort of
anthropology project, teach somewhere, do pure research, what?" 
She looked at him for a long moment.  Had Q really not thought
about this at all?  "You do realize that if you don't choose,
then Starfleet will choose for you."

That prospect goaded Q into action.  "Fine.  I'll choose."

"Good."

Q went off to think about that.  He was having to do entirely too
much thinking lately.  He wasn't used to actually being forced
into thinking.  It wasn't like living among humans required much
of it.

Naomi watched him leave, a little nonplussed.  That was it?  He
wasn't even going to tell her what Anderson had said?  That
conversation must have gone very badly indeed.  Q was always
quite happy to share victories.  It was defeats that had to be
pried out of him.

****

When Q finally went back to see Anderson, it was with a better
plan in mind and more idea of the possibilities.  There were a
number of things he could do, and some of which he actually
wanted to do.  Any of the scientific fields he'd advised in, he
could go into, and his role in them was virtually unlimited,
anything from the same kind of advising he was doing, to
teaching, to research, to leading a team himself.

The problem was that so many of those things bored him to tears.

There was no question but that he was going to avoid what he had
done all this time, namely advising on physics.  While he had
gotten good at it, that bored him more than anything else.

Archaelogy and anthropology were mildly intriguing in the hands
on sense, although finding out bits and pieces about species
which he had known as living creatures and trying to fit that
into an inaccurate picture was not his idea of an interesting
time.  However, if he *hadn't* known the culture, that could be
somewhat interesting.  Different, anyway.

However, the only thing that he hadn't tried that still seemed
worth doing and almost exciting was leading a group of other
people.  Telling them what to do and bossing them around.  Q was
quite tired, thank you, of having other people tell him what to
do.  Having power over other people would be so much more
fulfilling.  If he had told Naomi about this, she would have been
hard pressed to keep from laughing.  She avoided that kind of
thing like the plague, and didn't think Q would enjoy people
problems and administrivia any more than she did.

However, Anderson didn't seem to agree with him.

"All right, Eleanor, I know what I want to do," Q said, feeling
rather triumphant.  "You can just find me a spot like that, and
I'll be happily on my way."

Anderson shook her head.  "It isn't done that way, Q.  You can
choose between the current missions being assigned, and that's
it."  She was unnecessarily harsh with him because she had
already had it worked out where he was to go; in lieu of a
decision from Q, Starfleet *had* chosen, and while it wasn't
exactly an ideal assignment, it had been one which was suited for
Q's abilities.  Unfortunately, it was also almost completely
unrelated to the specifications Q had dreamed up.  With more lead
time, it *might* have been possible to arrange something to Q's
liking, but given how she would have to scrap all of her present
arrangements and then wait for Q to choose something, she was too
upset with him to tell him that.

Q glared at her.  "You didn't tell me that."

"You didn't ask," the commodore said as calmly as she could
manage.  "I'll send you a list of assignments currently
available."

"And that's supposed to be good enough?"

"It'll have to be, because that's all you're getting."  She
looked pointedly at Q.  "If you're finished..."

He stared at her, but she didn't flinch.  He gathered his dignity
around him and stalked out, feeling utterly humiliated.

****

When he did get the list, Q still felt rather disgruntled by the
notion of not getting what he wanted after Naomi had practically
promised that he could, but the list was almost as good.  That
gave him the illusion of choice, something he was very fond of. 
What he had wanted wasn't on there, nor anything close to it, but
there were many other fascinating possibilities.

Naomi stood behind him, arms looped loosely around his neck as
she read over his shoulder.  Q didn't seem to mind terribly,
being distracted by the amazing variety of things he could do
with his future.

"Excavating the remains of the Y'ueet culture," Naomi said. 
"Hmm... sounds rather dull."

"Particularly since they never evolved into the tool-building
state," Q agreed.

"Then how could anyone excavate anything?  There wouldn't be
anything more there than lots of bones?"

Q smirked.  "The Federation isn't aware of that yet."

Naomi didn't quite understand that, but didn't say anything about
it.  If allowed, Q would expound for hours, not only on the
Y'ueet culture, but more specifically, on the idiocy of the
Federation.  And she already got the idea.

"Oh, there's an interesting one."

"Which?" Q asked, stopping the scroll of text.

"Right at the top there.  'Investigate temporal anomalies. 
Ongoing.'  That could be interesting.  Imagine getting sucked
into one and ending up in ancient Rome or something like that."

"Imagine getting sucked into one and having the top half of your
body in one century and the lower half of your body in another,"
Q observed sardonically.  "It usually results in death."

"Oh," Naomi said, a little disappointed.  "I guess it isn't that
interesting after all."

"I didn't say that."

"Then that's something you'd want to do?"

Q shrugged, causing Naomi to shift so as not to be sent flying. 
"I suppose it'll have to do if there's nothing else better."

In the end, the list came down to six choices.  One anthropology;
and the rest a mixture of physics problems, everything from pure
theory to the aforementioned temporal anomaly.  Some interesting
things had been ruled out because they would require residency on
a starbase or a space station, both of which Q declared to be
intrinsically uninteresting, since he had, after all, lived on a
starbase for the last seven years.  That ruled out the Bajoran
wormhole.

The other postings were divided evenly between starships and
planets, either of which Naomi would have been happy with.  She
was equally at ease in both environments, having spent the
majority of her adult life inside, umbilically attached to a
computer.

But then they looked at the list of planets and ship names and
there was no question about what they were going to do and where
they were going to go.

Enterprise.

****

The juggernaut moved slowly, but with increasing speed as it
picked up momentum.  The news of Q's decision to leave spread
quickly through the starbase, and only a little more slowly
through Starfleet as a whole, and while there were some scoffers
who thought it would never actually happen, people started
getting ready to dismantle their lives and move on.  The main
purpose for Starbase 56's existence was to support Q and to glean
whatever knowledge could be gathered from him, and without his
presence, the extensive staff of scientists, security and support
people simply was not needed.

Q moved around in a state of high excitement, which served to
cover how anxious he actually felt about this change in his life. 
At one time, he would have thought it absurd to cling to
stability as much as he did, but now it was the only thing that
made sense.  The fact that he had been nothing but excited over
the last time he'd thought he was leaving, when the Maquis had
captured him instead, only underscored how differently he felt
now.  He couldn't get that excited again.  It felt juvenile, like
the stupid, unreasoning faith of a child, that everything would
be better somewhere else.  He couldn't have that much belief
again.

He was in his quarters, looking out his window and trying to
imagine what it would be like to be elsewhere, and failing, when
the door chimed.

"Come," he said.  Anything would be better than being alone with
his own thoughts.

It was Harry.  Wearing a hopeful look, and walking into the room
like he expected to be hit.

"Oh, it's *you*, Harry," Q said condescendingly, as though he'd
been spending all this time waiting for a crowned head of state
to visit him instead of being depressed by his own thoughts. 
"What do you want?"

If Harry hadn't had a lot of experience with Q, he would have
fled right then.  He might have fled anyway if he hadn't wanted
what he did so badly.  He'd talked to Naomi first and set up this
arrangement.  He wasn't stupid.  He knew that if he didn't have
Naomi's approval, his chances of succeeding were nil.  And it
would have been hard to talk with a three-year-old in residence
in any case.

"Funny you should say that," Harry said, striving for a light
tone as he crossed the room to stand closer to Q.  "I did come
here to ask you for something, actually."

Q waved a lazy hand over the statuary and other decorations in
the room.  "A knick knack perhaps?  A souvenir to prove you knew
the great Q?  Be my guest, Harry.  I don't want most of it
anyway."

"Well... that's a generous offer, but no, that isn't what I came
to see you about."

"Is this a game of Twenty Questions?" Q snapped out, embarrassed
now to have offered something to Harry since the man wouldn't
take it.  It had been a foolish gesture, and he should never have
unbent enough to do it.  "Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

Harry smiled slightly.  "It's not a physical object."  He looked
down at his hands and found no help there.  "Do you remember the
party before you went off and got yourself kidnapped by the
Maquis?"

"Vaguely," Q said, waving his hand in the air.  "They all blend
together."

This was *not* going well.  Harry felt his chances diminishing by
the second.  "At it, you told me that if you went away again, I
could come with you."  He looked at Q, his heart in his eyes. 
"I'd very much like to take you up on that offer."

Q didn't know what to say.  This wasn't something he could ever
have anticipated.  Reacting instinctively, he drew the armor of
not-caring over him and shrugged.  "If that's what you want,
Harry, I can't stop you."

"That means yes," Naomi said drily, from behind them.  She set
Ariadne down.  The toddler immediately set off towards Q, running
smack dab into Harry, looking hurt at the unexpected obstacle in
her path, then veering around and glomming onto Q's legs.  "He
wouldn't ever tell you that, but that does mean yes.  And we're
happy to have you, Harry."

"I wish I'd been consulted about this," Q said sulkily, unhappy
with Naomi for having interrupted, and even less pleased with
looking silly in front of Harry.  It was impossible to be
properly dignified with a toddler clinging to you.  "And get this
child of yours off of me!"

"I don't think she wants to be gotten," Naomi said, smiling.

"Dada!" Ariadne affirmed strongly, holding tightly onto Q's legs. 
He couldn't do anything about her, couldn't remove her without
causing a major scene.

"Why is it that that's the *only* word she knows?" Q asked in a
long-suffering tone.

"Oh, she knows more," Naomi said, walking over to Harry.  "She
just doesn't use any of them around you."

Q looked between Harry and Naomi, and realized that there wasn't
anything he could do about Harry coming along, and that there
wasn't actually anything he *wanted* to do about it.  Grumbling,
he said, "I suppose you better come, Harry.  You can rescue me
from all these women."

"I've been trying to do that all along," Harry said, grinning. 
"You just would never let me."

"Let's just say I've reconsidered."

****

For a while there was a transport calling at the base every week
or so.  Then one every few days.

And then, in the last few days before Q and Naomi were to leave,
the traffic was clogged with vessels of all types, shuttles,
starships, cruise liners, everything and anything to bear away
the departing personnel.

In that maze of goodbyes and on and off loading, security for Q
was a nightmare.

In all consideration, if she had to do it again, Anderson would
have sent Q off first.  But it was too late now, the ship he
would leave on wasn't due until a certain day, and nothing could
be done about it.  He'd be leaving tomorrow, and that was all
there was to it.

Azoth had recommended, and Anderson endorsed, the censored
announcement which told all relevant personnel, including
Starfleet, that Q was leaving, but not which particular ship he
was leaving on, or where he was going.  There was no need to make
Q a target now when things had gone so smoothly for so long.

She had sent the unfortunate captain who would be getting Q a
separate message, listing the personnel transferring to his ship
by name.  However, she had not put any particular emphasis on the
fact that *Q* was the physicist in question.  If he read through
all his incoming transmissions, then he would know.  And if he
didn't -- well, there was no reason to give him additional time
to weasel out of this.

Jean-Luc Picard had dumped Q on her once, seven years before, and
Anderson would take great delight on dumping her particular
problem back on him.

****

The lieutenant at the helm announced their arrival at their
destination.  "Starbase 56, sir."

Another voice chimed in.  "I have a transmission from Commodore
Anderson, sir."

Picard nodded.  "I'll take it in my ready room."

When Anderson appeared on screen, she was all business.

"I've already sent their dossiers on ahead to you.  You'll be
getting two physicists, an assistant and her child, and their
bodyguard.  They should be transporting up within the hour. 
Anderson out."

Picard stood and tugged at his tunic.  He'd see them after they
settled in.  For a grouping of scientists, Data seemed the more
appropriate greeter.  He had a number of things he needed to
oversee before they left the starbase.

Among those was a small desire to see how Q was doing.  Picard
had had no choice in leaving Q here seven years ago, had
recognized that the best place for the formerly omnipotent entity
was where the Federation could study him and get the maximum
benefit of his vast experience.  It had taken Picard off-guard
when the Federation had instead decided to try Q for crimes
committed while he was still omnipotent.  It had been Picard who
had spoken in favor of Q, and kept that from occurring.  That
would have been an ironic turnabout, but Picard had no interest
in that kind of injustice.  Because Q had abused them did not
make it right for them to do the same thing to him.  Far better
for the Federation to wring every scrap of knowledge from Q's
head and get some value out of their former tormenter.  Picard
had defended Q because it would have been beneath the captain to
do anything else, and because he had known that no one else would
be able to do so effectively.  Even inasmuch as he had no special
feeling for Q, he had more kindness for him than the legal
establishment who would have been sitting trial on Q.

And then the Borg had returned and Q had saved them all, making a
greater effort than Picard would ever have believed capable to
give the Federation the knowledge it needed to destroy them. 
Picard had spoken with Q after that, and had conceived a grudging
respect for him.

If Q hadn't yet departed, it would only be what Picard owed the
man to talk to him before he left.

****

Naomi stood in the empty room and felt a little sad.  This had
been her home for so long, and now it was not, and it looked so
*wrong* like this, all stripped and empty.  Everything had been
removed; what they were not taking with them had been either
stored or dispositioned.  Naomi had always travelled very lightly
herself; there was little need to collect mementoes when
everything important you owned was a computer program of some
type.  However, Ariadne seemed to generate such things, so much
so that her luggage almost rivalled Q's.  Almost.

There was nothing in this room now at all, except for herself and
Ariadne, who was happily running back and forth between the
walls, delighted not to have anything to have to run into.  Q was
with Harry, helping him pack, although Naomi suspected Harry
would have had an easier time of it if Q were not there.

The only thing that remained to remind her of Q was the window,
with its unchanging view of the stars, and for a brief moment,
Naomi had a feeling of how it must have been for Q, to be
abruptly uprooted from everything he had known and deposited
*here*.  Everything that had been in this room, he had added.  If
there had been standard Starfleet-type furnishings, they were
long gone now, no doubt to be returned as soon as she and Q were
officially off the base.  But for now, it was just an empty room.

The chime of the door distracted her from her bleak thoughts. 
"Come in."

Jinn walked in and stopped short, taking in the change. 
"Interesting decorating scheme.  Much better than the mausoleum."

"Very Zen, don't you think?" Naomi agreed.  She felt Ariadne
grabbing onto the back of her legs.  The little girl was very shy
around strangers, as obstreperous as she was at other times, and
would hide rather than having to face them.  The only person she
saw enough to be comfortable around was Harry, and of course, she
was entirely at ease with Sanaharrar, who she seemed to regard as
a cross between a very large stuffed animal and a second mother.

Jinn and Naomi stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking at
each other.  "So this is it?" Jinn said finally.  "You're leaving
for good this time."

Naomi nodded.  "We'll be gone as soon as Harry finishes packing. 
He said he couldn't do it before.  Something about a send-off
party last night."

"Oh, that," Jinn said, with a smile.  "Yes, that would hold it
up, wouldn't it?"

"And I wasn't even invited."

"Well, of course, you weren't," Jinn said.  "He didn't invite any
women.  Other than the entertainment, of course."

Naomi held up a hand.  "I don't want to know."  Actually, she was
curious, in that the idea of *Harry* inviting *women* as
entertainment was absurd, but the very absurdity of it clued her
in that Jinn was most likely having a little joke with her rather
than telling the truth.

"Are you sure?" Jinn asked, an evil gleam coming into his eyes. 
"Harry and Q certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves."

Naomi looked up at the ceiling.  "You know, I *may* be leaving,
but I *do* still have access to the computer system here.  And,
with a little bit of work, I bet I can get a recording of last
night's affair."

"So?"

"Which I think Trina would find to be *very* interesting viewing. 
I could get some coffee and we could watch it before I have to
go."

It was Jinn's turn to hold up his hands.  "I give, I give.  You
got me.  I'll let it drop."

"You will?" Naomi affected surprise.  "This must be something
*really* embarrassing then."

Jinn shook his head, then changed the subject.  "I didn't come
here to tease you about that."

"Oh."  Naomi pretended to be disappointed.  "So, what did you
come here for?  To scrounge for souvenirs?"

"Naomi!  You're not making this any easier, you know!"

"Not making *what* any easier?"

"I'm *trying* to say goodbye, damnit!" Jinn said, exasperated
beyond all reason.

Naomi giggled.  "All right, then.  Goodbye."

"You really are impossible, you know that?"  He looked at her
affectionately.  "I'm going to miss you.  You're one of the few
people who I can get along with."

"That's because most people don't think of insults and practical
jokes as being tokens of affection."

"Well, why not?"  Before either of them could break down and get
sentimental, Jinn stepped forward and hugged Naomi once, very
quickly, then backed away.  "Goodbye, Naomi."

And then he was gone.

Ariadne let go of her, staring at the door.  She was utterly
fascinated by the door, which wouldn't open for her, but would
magically swoosh open for anyone and everyone else.

"All gone," she said, sticking her fingers in her mouth.

"Yes, all gone," Naomi said, stepping forward and picking Ariadne
up.  She couldn't let herself get sentimental about Jinn or any
of the other departures or she'd be spending the rest of the day
broken down into tears with Q hovering over her demanding that
she stop crying.  Which would completely ruin the grand entrance
he was planning to make.  That thought firmed fixed into mind,
Naomi settled Ariadne on her hip, Ariadne's head resting against
her shoulder.  "Time to go see what's holding up Uncle Harry."

****

Data stood in the transporter room, watching as a very familiar
shape take solidity on the pad, accompanied by a small grouping
of less familiar people.

"Professor Data!" Q said, greeting him cheerfully.  "How are
you?"

Data spoke to his badge.  "Data to Picard.  I think you will like
to greet these guests personally."

Picard didn't question Data's decision.  "I'll be there shortly. 
Picard out."

The little group stood there, condemned to wait.  Naomi debated
taking a seat, but the only place to do so was on the edge of the
transporter pad and that seemed rather rude, as well as an action
that would spoil Q's fun.  Because this was a game to him.  He
was virtually quivering with suppressed excitement at her side. 
She knew Data, was acquainted with him from the battle against
the Borg, but it didn't seem appropriate to renew that
acquaintance now while they were all waiting to be thrown off the
ship.  All except Q.  She wasn't sure what he was waiting for.

Picard came through the door moments later, tension radiating
from his posture.

Q greeted him exuberantly.  "Mon capitaine, it is I!"

"*You're* the physicist we were expecting?"  Picard turned to
Data.  "Could this be true?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, unused to this kind of reception,
while Sanaharrar surveyed them all placidly.  The transporter
chief was wishing Security had been called to this meeting.  He
didn't like the looks of Sanaharrar, and he didn't like the
hostility the captain was exhibiting towards the new arrivals. 
Something could go wrong, and it would be his fault.

Q smiled broadly.  "It's true, all true, Jean-Luc.  We're going
to be *such* good friends."

"We are *not* friends," Picard said tightly.

"Riker isn't here, hmm?" Q asked lightly.  He actually knew the
answer to his question, having looked it up, but that didn't
matter.  And after his experience with Thomas Riker tricking him
into being captured by the Maquis with false assurances that
Picard wanted to see him, Q had no wish to see Riker, any Riker. 
He knew they weren't the same person, but seeing the one would
have reminded him of losing to the other.  "Off as captain of his
own ship now, isn't he?  And you're still stuck here on this same
dreary little tug."

Naomi shifted uncomfortably.  Her arms were going to give out
soon, if the kid didn't wake up.  And then they'd all really be
in trouble.

"Captain," Naomi said, drawing all eyes to her.  "Commodore
Anderson will be happy to confirm our orders.  If it's not too
much of an imposition, I'd like to see our rooms now.  I, at
least, would like to rest."

Picard turned reluctantly to her, the dictates of courtesy
outweighing his personal desire to see this matter resolved
immediately with Q off of his ship.  He did want to talk to the
commodore about this.  She couldn't have meant to deposit Q on
him like this.  "Commander Data, could you show them to their
quarters?"

"Certainly, sir."

Picard turned on his heel and left.  Q looked at Naomi, eyebrow
raised, with a sulky expression on his face, as if to say, "You
ruin all my fun."

She shrugged and then turned to Data.

"I'm Dr. Naomi Allen, and these are Lieutenant Harry Roth,
Sanaharrar, and I believe you already seem to know Q."

"Dr. Allen?  Perhaps you recall working on the virus project. 
Your work was fascinating."

"Thank you, Data.  It's good to see you again, too."  Naomi threw
a mocking glance at Q.  "It's nice to be remembered.  After all,
I'm only the unimportant assistant here."

He ignored her grandly, while Harry did his best to suppress a
roar of laughter.

Naomi looked at Data.  "You wouldn't have some way of handling
our luggage, would you?"

Data glanced over at the pile.  There was quite a lot of it. 
They could be aboard the Enterprise for a considerable length of
time, and they might never be returning to Starbase 56. 
Accordingly, everything of Q's had been packed up and sent here. 
Naomi had weeded out some of the worst atrocities of style as far
as statuary went; even Q couldn't keep track of every piece of
decoration he owned, but most of it was still there.  She hoped
they had a large suite, otherwise someone was going to be very
unhappy with them.  And what was on the transporter pad was only
the smallest fraction of the total.  Naomi suspected the rest was
in a cargo bay somewhere.

However, they couldn't get even that small amount back to their
room.  Q couldn't, his back providing him with an excellent
excuse to refuse; Harry wouldn't, claiming it wasn't his;
Sanaharrar wasn't exactly built for the task of carrying luggage,
even if she would have agreed to give up her duty of protecting
Q, which she wouldn't have.

Data nodded, and looked at the transporter chief, who had been
following the conversation, unable to take his eyes off this most
unusual interruption in his day.  "I'll take care of it, sir."

****

Picard stalked into his ready room, ignoring the bridge crew.  He
couldn't be bothered with them right now.  He had more important
things on his mind.

Such as Q.

It was one thing to consider visiting the man.  It was another
thing to agree to harbor him aboard the Enterprise for an
unspecified length of time.  This was precisely the sort of thing
Picard had originally turned him over to the Federation in order
to avoid.

He drummed his fingers impatiently until the commodore could be
reached.  She had done this to him intentionally.  He knew that
now.  There was no other reason why he would not have been
directly notified of something this important.

"Commodore?" he asked, as she appeared on the screen.

"Captain," she acknowledged gracefully, her posture completely
straight.

Picard found it hard to keep his anger out of his voice.  "I've
just spoken with my new physicist."

"Really?" Anderson asked, not admitting to anything.  "And?"

"And he's *Q*!" Picard said forcefully, unable to restrain
himself any longer.

"I was aware of that."

"Well, I was not!  And I believe I have a right to know who I'm
being saddled with!"

"The information was sent to you."  She consulted something on
her desk.  "You've had it for nine days.  I believe if you look
at it, you'll find Q's name there."

Picard had no doubt that she was speaking the truth.  He didn't
know why no one had bothered to inform of his information;
perhaps they had thought he already knew.  In any case, it didn't
stop him from resenting what she had just done, what she knew he
had no time to change.

But that wouldn't stop him from trying.  "Commodore, this is
completely unacceptable.  The notice of this event is
unacceptable..."

"Is this some sort of comment on your own unreadiness?"  For her
part, Anderson was glad to get rid of Q.  With his departure, a
long delayed promotion was finally sitting on her desk. 
Apparently Anderson had done her job too well up until now, since
it seemed the only thing which had held this up was Q's presence
on Starbase 56.  She was to be promoted to rear admiral,
effective immediately.  Anderson fingered the orders
thoughtfully.  She didn't know whether this was a good thing. 
While Q had been here, Starbase 56 had been a center of
scientific activity.  Any other position would inevitably entail
less responsibility, less call for her abilities, even if it was
a promotion.  But it was inevitable.  And she couldn't refuse,
even if she had wanted to.  A refusal would have killed any
chance of ever advancing in rank.

"No, commodore."  Picard seemed somewhat flustered by the return
of his attack on him.  "However, I... Q has a prior history of
trouble-making and I don't believe his proper place is aboard a
starship.  The number of assassination attempts against him alone
show that a vessel carrying families is no place for such a
hazard."

Anderson shook her head.  "The attempts have leveled off sharply
in the past three years.  I don't believe there is an
unacceptable level of risk involved.  A starship is a better
place for Q at this time in any case, as a mobile base would make
it harder for a potential assassin to locate him."

Picard's face hardened.  He simply *couldn't* put up with Q. 
There had to be an argument he could use to get out of this. 
"Commodore, Q has no respect for authority.  His putative value
to this mission is outweighed by the nuisance he will create."

Anderson didn't flinch.  "If you have problems dealing with Q,
Dr. Allen will be able to assist you.  She's Q's companion."  She
considered not giving him any more information about Allen, but
then changed her mind.  Picard had obviously not done his
homework here, and while she had planned on that, there were
things he needed to know.  "Dr. Allen and Q are very close.  If
you've read their dossiers, you'll know that she and Q are not to
be deliberately separated by any order of Starfleet.  There are
reasons for that."

Picard hadn't read the dossiers yet.  He hadn't had time in the
brief space between the shock of seeing Q and the impulsive call
to the commodore.  "And if I have to brig him?"

"Then brig both of them, Captain.  But don't separate them."

For a moment, Anderson felt apprehensive about leaving Q in the
hands of someone who appreciated him so little, someone who
evidently hated and loathed him.  Then she took a good look at
herself and laughed inside.  Her least favorite nuisance was
going away, she was getting a promotion due to that leavetaking,
and she was actually considering getting Q back just to keep him
from some imagined emotional trauma.  How ridiculous, as Q would
say.

She looked straight at Picard.  "These are Starfleet orders,
Captain.  Are you telling me you're refusing to obey them?"

"No, sir," Picard said.  There was nothing else he could say to
that, not even when he knew he had been outmaneuvered.

Anderson nodded, professional smile tight.  "Good.  We have too
few good captains to afford to lose one to this kind of bigotry. 
Anderson out."

Picard terminated his end of the call, then sat there for a
moment.  He had to put up with Q.  The commodore had made that
quite clear.  Picard wasn't quite as resistant to Q as he had
presented himself.  When Picard had realized how Q had aided the
Federation in their narrow escape from the Borg, he had lost some
of his resentment for Q.  That had been a very brave thing to do,
and Picard honored him for it.

Picard mulled over the tidbit that the commodore had dropped
about Dr. Allen, who as he now recalled had a daughter.  A very
young daughter, young enough to have been born since the last
time Picard had seen Q.  And that altered everything.  Q?  In a
relationship?  With a daughter?  Perhaps Q had changed.  He
certainly hoped so.  If not, this was going to be a very
difficult situation for Picard.

He straightened up, then got up to go brace the lion in his den.

****

Naomi was sitting on the floor in their new quarters, playing
with Ariadne, while Q unpacked.  While he probably could have
insisted and gotten someone else to do it, Q wasn't entrusting
his wardrobe to anyone in Starfleet.  They'd most likely throw it
away on the basic grounds that it was colorful and stylish, and
therefore offensive to their standards of taste.

He was bantering with Harry, who saw no purpose in going back to
his own quarters or unpacking.  Harry had seen the way the
captain looked at Q, and he didn't share Naomi and Q's confidence
that this would work out.  He expected to be set neatly back down
on Starbase 56 within the hour.

Naomi was not unpacking because she didn't anticipate hers taking
very long and she'd only be in Q's way if she did.

Q held up a tunic to the light, examining it critically for
wrinkles.  Deciding it had none he could immediately complain
about, he hung it away.  "You could find something better to do
with your time than watch me putting away clothes, Harry."

"Really?" Harry asked, lounging in the doorway.  He gave Q a slow
look up and down, making Naomi giggle.  "What?"

Q missed the look completely, being absorbed with his current
task.  "Anything.  Annoying captains, unpacking your own things,
sleeping off your hangover.  That sort of thing."

"I tried to tell you last night; if you'd stick to synthenol, you
wouldn't *have* a hangover."

"I don't have a hangover," Q said with a superior air.  "I don't
drink."

"Oh, really?" Harry asked, a combative light in his eye.  There
had been more than one occasion when he had seen Q drunk, and he
could remind him of all of them.

Q didn't bat an eye.  "Of course not.  I am a connoisseur.  If I
must imbibe, I *savor*.  You, on the other hand, Harry,
*guzzle*."

Naomi laughed.  "He's got you there, Harry."

"He does not."

"Too."

"Not.  Besides," Harry said, turning the conversation back on Q. 
"I can't go annoy Starfleet captains.  I'm *in* Starfleet,
remember?"

Q flicked his fingers disdainfully.  "Oh, yes.  How tedious of
you, Harry.  How could you ever have gotten involved in such a
*boring* organization?"

"The men?" Harry suggested flirtatiously.

The door chimed, and the conversation stilled.  Everyone was well
aware of who this would be.  Only Ariadne and Sanaharrar, who was
sitting by the door, seemed unaffected.

"Come in," Naomi said.

Picard entered.  He couldn't see Q from where he was, but he knew
that Q was there from having asked the computer his location. 
Picard stopped stiffly just inside the door.

"Can I help you, Captain?" Naomi asked, her daughter having taken
a little fright at the stranger and clinging to her chest,
looking up and behind her at the tall man.

Picard tried not to look at her, but politeness prevailed.  "I
would like to talk to Q.  Alone."

Naomi didn't move.  "No."

"No?"

Harry pushed himself away from the wall and brushed his trousers
off a little nervously.  "I think that's my cue.  I'll see you
later."  He nodded to Picard as he went out the door, "Sir."

Sanaharrar uncoiled herself from the floor, and gracefully glided
out along with Harry to monitor things from outside.  For her, it
was a gesture of courtesy rather than anything else since, if she
chose, she could "hear" the conversation just as well from
outside the door as inside.

Q came out of the closet and sailed over to the couch Naomi was
sitting in front of.  With some of the instinctive knowledge of
what most piqued Picard, he took a seat on the couch, draping his
long body across it.  "Jean-Luc.  How good to see you again.  I
didn't expect to see you so soon.  Did you miss me?"

"No."

"I'm hurt, Jean-Luc, really I am.  All this time I thought that
*you* at least cared about me, and here I find I'm wrong.  How
disappointing."

Picard disregarded that as entirely irrevelant.  "I've spoken
with Commodore Anderson..."

"Dear Eleanor!" Q said, interrupting him.  "And how is she?  Is
she heartsick already at the thought of losing me?"

The captain strongly doubted that.  "It seems that I have no
choice but to put up with you.  Q, if you are going to be a
member of my crew..."

Naomi held up a finger.  "Actually, he's not, Captain."

Picard was unused to being interrupted.  It just was not done. 
And here it was, happening repeatedly all in the same
conversation.

Naomi continued, silently requesting and getting permission from
Q to handle this.  "Both Q and I are civilians, and not members
of your crew at all.  I should hope that we'd be treated with the
courtesy that any other respected member of the scientific
community deserves."

"Dr. Allen, you fail to understand the issues," Picard explained
very stiffly, wishing she had left.  This would be much easier
without her here, and far easier with none of them cluttering up
his ship at all.  "Q is a menace to the ship.  He causes trouble,
and I cannot trust him here."

The ignorance of Q's better qualities and general disrespect sent
a surge of anger through Naomi.  How dare he say something like
that?

"Really?  Like what?  Or were you talking about things he did
before he became human?"

"It doesn't matter what he was at the time."

"I should think it does.  Extenuating circumstances."  She
remembered something she'd heard, and used it.  "Wasn't it you
that argued he wasn't the same person, not legally?"

"Well, yes," Picard agreed, "but even as a human, he caused
trouble.  Comming people in the middle of the night, contacting
Sickbay for routine matters..."

Naomi shook her head.  "That was a long time ago.  After all, he
was less than a week old then.  And you wouldn't hold a baby
responsible for the disruption it caused by screaming when it
needed to be changed or crying when it was hungry, now would
you?"

Picard wanted to insist that Q was far from being a child, and Q
himself was not particularly flattered by the image, but Naomi
was inexorable.

"What substantive reason do you have to persecute him?"

"Doctor, you fail to understand the situation," Picard tried to
explain.  He didn't like the view of himself that was emerging
from her words, and didn't agree with it either.  He had done
precisely what he needed to do, and was doing that here as well. 
He was not unreasonable, nor had he mistreated Q in any way.

"And you don't have enough experience with the current situation
to understand it either.  Captain, you really should consider
waiting a while before forming judgments.  This is not the same
person you knew, and to treat him that way is insulting."

Picard stared at Naomi for a moment longer, *really* wishing now
that he could have done this without her here.  He could play the
role of superior with Q, had done it before, and understood Q to
what small extent Q *could* be understood.

Before anyone could say anything else, Ariadne wiggled her way
out of Naomi's arms and held her arms out to Q.  "Dada!"

With no hint of how much he hated that phrase and normally balked
at showing affection for Ariadne in front of other people, Q
reached down for the child, picking her up and setting her down
so that she was lying on his chest, contentedly picking apart the
embroidery on his robe.

Q had the satisfaction of seeing Picard squirm at the sight,
which was more than worth putting up with the toddler.  "Was
there anything else you wanted, Jean-Luc?"

He thought he was making Picard uncomfortable, which was partly
true, but he was also forcing the captain to reassess some of his
long-held beliefs about Q.  That Q could show a comfortable,
fatherly affection for anything was a concept Picard was not
prepared to deal with.

But it was one that gave him pause, and made him think that what
Allen had said might be true, that he might be able to work with
Q after all.  And it wasn't like he had any choice in the matter. 
To accept the situation and make the best of it was all that he
could do.

"No."  Then grudgingly, Picard added.  "Welcome aboard."


-the end-