From ensdelk@aol.com Thu Apr 23 11:36:48 1998
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From: ensdelk@aol.com (EnsDelk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Escher Dream Pt 3 (TNG P/Q NC-17) 1/5
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Date: 23 Apr 1998 18:36:48 GMT
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[EnsDelk here.  Just posting this for friends.  Please send feedback to
anonsisters@yahoo.com]

Okay, okay.  This is a little late, but we tried to make it worth the effort. 
After all, I'm sure you didn't want us to skimp on things.  We did have this
ending planned where the Risan Circus comes by and Picard and Q decide to just
run off together, but that just seemed to leave so many unanswered questions,
like whether Picard would be happy being the husband of the Human-faced boy,
and whether marathon fucking sessions really count as an *act,* per se.  I know
I for one would pay to see it, but just how liberal are those Risans, anyway?

Well, here it is, at last, the third part of "Escher Dreams."  I really think
you should read parts one and two first, if you haven't.

"Escher Dreams Part III"
TNG
P/Q
NC-17 (for lots of sex)
1/5

Thanks to the Editrix and for people who've written to say they care about what
happens to our favorite captain and omnipotent pain in the ass.

Summary:  Picard must figure out a way to stay with Q.  Will it cost him his
captaincy?

[As you might recall, the last thing that happened was the destruction of
Escher Nine.]

"Q," he said in quite a different tone, urgent and yet even now warm with the
depth of his feelings.  Pulling his spent cock out of Q's body as quickly and
gently as he could, he turned to meet the somewhat dazed but rapidly clearing
expression of his lover's eyes.  And then Q snapped his fingers, and they were
both clean and dressed and standing beside the bed.

"Riker to Picard!  Three ships approaching."

"Evasive maneuvers!  I'm on my way."  Picard looked at Q, who was looking at
him nervously.  "I love you," the captain said quickly.  He heard Q's reply, a
repetition of the same words, as he hit the door at a near run.

Seconds later, he was on the bridge.  He knew that it would normally have taken
him longer to get there if he'd been out of uniform, but he was still concerned
about what he'd been doing when the alert sounded.  Besides, he was still
feeling just a little content and dazed.  Ruthlessly shoving his feelings and
concerns aside, he listened as Riker reported.  

Escher Nine had exploded, and at the same time, three medium-sized spacecraft
had fired on the Enterprise.  They hadn't done any significant damage, but they
seemed to be determined, as Riker put it, "to make a nuisance of themselves." 
They also refused to answer any of the Enterprise's attempts at communication.

"Sir," Riker asked cautiously, "was Escher Nine supposed to blow up?"

Aware that both Data and Li were looking at him with curiosity, Picard sighed. 
This didn't seem to be the place to break the news to his staff, or such of his
staff as was present, but it wasn't like he had a choice.  "I don't think Q
would have put the ship in that much danger, Number One."  The ship shuddered
slightly as one of the enemy ships fired again.  Picard turned to Li.  "Have
they answered our hails yet?"

"No sir."

"Try again."  Li tried again and when there was still no answer, Picard
frowned.  He turned to Troi.  "Counselor?"

"I'm not getting much at this distance, but, in addition to considerable
annoyance, they seem to be feeling almost proprietary."

Picard thought about that.  As far as he knew, this section of space wasn't
claimed by anyone.  "Very well," he said to Li, "open a hailing frequency."
When Li indicated that he had done so, Picard spoke.  "This is Captain Jean-Luc
Picard, of the U.S.S. Enterprise.  Stand down from your attack or we will be
forced to defend ourselves.  You have two minutes to comply."

There was no immediate answer and Picard gestured to Li to cut the channel.
When the captain turned to take his seat, Data glanced back at him for a second
before turning back to his station.  Picard sighed.  "Q created the Escher
Anomalies.  Mr. Li, you were correct in assuming that they were a work of art."

"Q," Data said, not turning from his monitors.  "I apologize for not figuring
this out earlier, Captain.  Perhaps it was that I cannot understand why Q would
do such a thing."

"Suffice it to say that it was an attempt to impress me."

"Impress you?" Data asked.

"Is Q behind this attack?" Li asked simultaneously.

"No," Picard replied firmly.  "It was as surprising to him as it was to me." He
couldn't help but recall what he and Q had been doing when the anomaly
exploded, and he heard a slight cough from Troi.

Fortunately for Picard, Li reported that the two minutes were up and the enemy
ships had still not responded to the Enterprise's hail.  Neither had they
attacked again.

"Fire a standard warning shot across the bow of the lead ship, Mr. Li."

"Aye, sir."

The ships backed off slightly and did not return fire.  Picard wondered if they
were conferring.  "Do we have any idea who these people are?" he asked.

"Their markings indicate that they are the Sylnatan, a non-aligned, single
system people."

"Right," Picard replied, trying to remember what he knew of the Sylnatan. The
Federation rarely had dealings with them, and the reports he'd read didn't give
him a lot to go on.  They were said to be aggressive, but as they didn't have
the resources field a large fleet, they were considered to be more of a
nuisance than a threat.  "Are we in Sylnatan space?" he asked.

"No, sir," Data replied.  The android bent glanced down at his console  and
then looked up. "Captain, our long-range sensors report three more ships of
roughly the same size on an intercept course."

"ETA?" Riker asked.

"Fifteen minutes, Commander."

Riker and Picard exchanged a look.  "Three more," the first officer said
quietly.  "Things could get a little thick out here."  Picard had to agree. 

He was just turning to tell Li to lock the phasers on the lead ships' weapons,
when all three ships darted in and fired at the Enterprise.  The ship rocked as
the shields struggled to handle the attack and Picard was flung to the deck. 
He twisted to avoid hitting his head and felt a sharp, wrenching pain in his
neck and shoulder.  

"Captain?"  Troi was kneeling next to him in a flash.

"I'm...all right," Picard said struggling to get to his feet.  He knew he was
far from all right; his left arm seemed to be hanging uselessly and he assumed
that he had a dislocated shoulder.  The pain seemed worse than that, but he
didn't have time to figure it out.  "Target our phasers on the weapon  system
on the lead ship," he snapped out.  Li confirmed the target, and Picard, who
had been helped to his chair by Troi, rapped out:  "Fire!"

"Direct hit, Captain," Li announced triumphantly.  "The enemy vessels are
backing off."

"Captain," Data added, "we have destroyed the weapons system of the lead ship."

Picard tried to get comfortable and winced.  A second later he heard the hiss
of a hypospray and felt the rush he associated with the sudden absence of pain.
 He looked at Troi who had moved on to the rest of the bridge, inquiring about
everyone else, and smiled.  She knew better than to try to get him to go to
Sickbay, and this was her way of telling him that she knew he could still think
clearly.

"Damage report, Captain," Riker said.

"Go ahead."

"No real damage to any key systems, no casualties or major injuries."  The
first officer looked pointedly at Picard's arm, a look his captain seemed to
ignore. "We're still in good shape."

Picard was about to open his mouth and issue orders to hail the enemy ships
again when the anomaly suddenly grabbed his attention.  It rearranged itself,
but the pattern was not the orrery-like beauty of Escher Nine. Instead it
looked like an optical illusion illustration in multiple shades of blue. 
Unlike the looping, Celtic spirals of Escher Eight, Escher Ten was angular and
looked rather like a puzzle that existed in more than three dimensions.  Even
with the concerns of the Sylantan attack, Picard couldn't help appreciating the
artistry that had gone into the newest version of the anomaly. 

"Captain," Li said, breaking Picard fascinated concentration.  "The Sylnatan
are hailing us."

"On screen."

Picard remained seated as the Escher Ten was replaced with the inside of a
starship and a somewhat nervous-looking humanoid.  It was unfortunate, the
captain thought, that the Sylnatan looked rather like large, upright rats.
Firmly telling himself that the tiny beady eyes and long whiskers didn't mean
that this race was shifty or untrustworthy, Picard nodded politely but firmly.

"I am Captain Risnan of the Arador," the other captain said.

"Perhaps, Captain," Picard said coolly, "you could tell me why you fired on my
ship, after having been warned off."

Risnan looked even more nervous.  "Perhaps we were a bit hasty.  However, we
were protecting our interests."  He glanced at some sort of screen to his left.
 "We had no idea of your technical...level.  We feel we might have
been...informed."

Off-screen, Picard gestured to Li to cut the audio and turned to Troi.  "Am I
right in thinking that he thinks we're responsible for the anomaly?"

"I'm not sure, but he is very nervous and intimidated, something I was not
feeling earlier."

"Captain," Picard said after Li brought up the audio again, "perhaps we need to
meet and discuss the situation.  If you have interests in this part of space of
which the Federation is unaware, it might be wise to tell us of them." 

"I will consult with my superiors, Captain Picard.  You will hear from us in
one of your hours."

The screen went back to showing the anomaly.

"Captain," Riker said, looking at his arm.

"Yes, yes, Number One."  Picard frowned more at his thoughts than at his
awkwardness as he rose out of the captain's chair.  "I'll be back well before
our hour is up," he muttered, and headed for the turbo-lift.

"Captain," Data's voice followed him, the uncertainty in his voice so clear
that the others on the bridge all turned to look at him.

Picard saw the confusion in his yellow eyes, the way in which he had turned
completely from his post, and sighed.  The need to say "As you were," was
strong, but he owed Data more than that.

"You should get used to Q's presence on this ship," he said as flatly as
possible.  "At least for a time.  I do not think he will be interfering in the
Enterprise's affairs any more directly than with this anomaly, which he claims
he finished some time ago and is now letting run on its own."

"Aye, sir," Data said, his uncertainty unabated.

"I need a scan of Escher Ten before our Sylnatan hour is up, Mr. Data," Riker
snapped.

The android blinked and returned to his console, and Picard moved with grateful
speed on into the lift.

"Sickbay."

"Jean-Luc, are you all right?"

"Yes, it's nothing."

Q looked no more at ease than Data.  He brought up a hand to snap it.  "Then
you'll let me --"

"No, Q!"

Q brought his hand down quietly.  Picard drew a breath.  "As long as I keep
command, even if I'm to give it up sometime today, I have to function on this
ship as her captain.  I have to behave as I would whether you were here or not.
 I can't...use you and then pretend I still have a right to wear this uniform."
 He drew another breath, waiting the whole time for Q to start arguing.

"Dr. Crusher is the chief medical officer on the Enterprise," he went on. 
"When I no longer avail myself of her services --"

"I understand, Jean-Luc," Q said quietly.  Then he smiled.  "You see how good I
can be?"

Picard felt his anger rise and tried to stomp on it.  The lift would reach
Sickbay in another couple of seconds.  "Not good enough to keep from
frightening off the Sylnatan."  The doors opened.  "Did you really think I
couldn't handle it?"

Ensign Gracel and Crewman Turut stared in surprise as their captain and a tall,
dark-haired man in another captain's uniform walked out of the lift.  Captain
Picard was holding his arm stiffly, and the other man looked anxious, so they
assessed that he had been hurt on the bridge and was now headed to Sickbay. 
They stepped well out of the captains' way.

"I told you," the tall captain was saying, "that the Eschers are
self-sustaining.  When Nine was destroyed, Ten filled the vacuum."

"The Sylnatan think we did that!" Picard hotly responded as the Sickbay doors
opened and then shut behind them.

The ensign and the crewman met each other's eyes a moment, both shrugging
slightly, then went into the lift.  Well, they'd both been warned that life on
the Enterprise wasn't going to be what they expected.

"I can't help that, either, Jean-Luc," Q said as Crusher turned from the
bio-bed she'd just cleared of a patient with a sprained wrist.  Somehow, she
managed not to drop her tricorder.  "Not unless you want me to interfere, and
you said if our relationship is to work out that I can't."

"Of course you can't!"  He seemed to get a grip on himself and turned to the
doctor.  "I believe I've dislocated my shoulder."

"Sit up here, please," she said quietly, then looked at the entity, her
thoughts battering each other.  "Q."

"Bev-erly."

"I'd like to be alone with my patient."

Q frowned, then flashed out.

Crusher waved the tricorder sensor over his shoulder, arm, and neck.  "You've
torn several ligaments, and the shoulder is slightly out of joint."

"Beverly."

"I don't think it will take long to fix."

"Beverly, Q and I --"

"And there won't be any permanent damage, though you might watch yourself
during battles a bit more carefully."

"Beverly!"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Nurse Ogawa didn't look up as she headed into the medical lab, clearing the
room, but neither Beverly, who was staring down at her tricorder, or Jean-Luc,
who was staring at Beverly, noticed.  He watched as she pushed back a lock of
hair with hands that shook.

"I can't believe what I just saw," she said, grabbing a hypospray, and then
just standing there with it.  "I can't fucking *believe* it!"

"Beverly!"  It was the first time he'd heard her say something like that, the
first time he'd ever seen her so angry.

She whirled on him, wielding the hypo like a knife.  "You and Q?  You and the
same person who pushed you away from me?"

"What are you talking --"

"We had a chance, Jean-Luc!  I reached out to you after Q's temporal anomaly! 
I kept the letters going while the Enterprise-E was being completed and I was
stuck heading Starfleet Medical again!  I --"  She choked suddenly, realized
the hypo was in her hands, and stabbed him in the arm with it.  As soon as the
hiss died, she grabbed up her tricorder again and scanned him a second time.

"I was the one who suggested we pursue our feelings after we were together on
Kes-Prytt," he said quietly.  "I was the one who admitted to being in love with
you."

"Years ago.  Too many years ago for you to recover the emotion, it seems."

"Beverly, please."  He waited for her to look at him, then sighed.  "When I
told you about the future Q showed me, about our marriage and divorce, you were
the one who said we should just play things by ear."

Her scans complete, she grabbed another medical instrument and ran it back and
forth, slowly, expertly, over his shoulder.  "And that was that, wasn't it?  No
matter what I did, you wouldn't get close again."

"You're one of my oldest, dearest friends.  And I thought that's all you
wanted."

"But I was never quite good enough for you, was I, Jean-Luc?"  She set the
instrument down and stepped back, meeting his eyes now coldly.  "Isn't that why
we got divorced?"

"We got divorced because we got tired of hurting each other, because we could
never stop arguing, because we wanted different things."

"And knowing that, couldn't we have worked to overcome it?  Couldn't we have
made it better?"

"Yes!  We could have!  But we didn't!  Neither of us was brave enough!  Neither
of us was 'good' enough!  And now I'm in love with Q and that is never going to
change!"

Beverly gave him a tight, cruel little smile.  "And I see you're arguing with
him as well."

"Yes, but..."  He struggled, pride trying to keep him from admitting this to
her.  "If he insists, I'll give in."

Her eyes went wide while her lips thinned.

"In fact, I think, it seems quite likely, I'll have to give up my command...to
be with him."  He waited for her to speak, then read her expression.  His eyes
filled with pain.  "You despise me for saying that.  You think I'm weak for
giving in so completely.  It was that way when we were married.  When I opposed
you, you fought me.  When I won out over you, you resented me.  And when I gave
in to you, you felt nothing but disdain.  I could never be soft for you,
Beverly, never giving, never faulty.  When I made mistakes, you rubbed my nose
in them.  When I needed comfort, you would hold me and kiss me, even make love
to me, then you would tell me to get back to work, as though I were one of your
patients.  I tried to be what you wanted, and the more I changed the more you
seemed to hold me in contempt.  Then I stopped trying, and that was the end of
it."

"And Q is perfect, is he?"

"Of course not.  But if I asked him to Q would literally hold me in his arms
forever.  When I make mistakes, he doesn't let me ignore them, but then, when
I've acknowledged them, he forgives me, he accepts my faults as part of my
nature.  He doesn't have to be perfect, and neither do I."

"Well, isn't that...cozy?" she said tightly, picking up another instrument and
finishing the job.

"Beverly..."

"All done, Captain.  Try to avoid floors for awhile and you'll be fine."

Picard was going to say her name again, when she shot him a venomous look that
almost made him swallow his tongue.

"Can we talk, later?" he asked instead.

"I don't see there's anything left to talk about, except...did he make the
Eschers?"

"Yes."

"As a present to you?"

"As...yes."

"And the Escherite?"

"No.  He says that was here already."

She nodded, her face now quite clear of emotion, and met his eyes as the Chief
Medical Officer.  "It's vital that we get the rights to harvesting the
Escherite, Captain.  Its medical uses alone make it invaluable."

"Understood, Doctor."  He waited a moment, then got off the biobed and left
Sickbay.  He walked into the empty lift.  "Bridge."

Q flashed in and looked at him, saying nothing.

Picard looked back, unaware of the pain showing clearly in his eyes.  "You were
listening in?"

"No."

The man stepped forward until his face was pressed against Q's chest, his arms
going around the tall, warm body of his lover even as long arms enfolded him
tightly.  Picard felt a subtle shift.

"Did you just stop the lift or time?"

"Time."

End of Part One






From ensdelk@aol.com Thu Apr 23 11:37:55 1998
Path: news4.ispnews.com!news11.ispnews.com!news1.ispnews.com!dca1-hub1.news.digex.net!digex!news.idt.net!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!news.bbnplanet.com!news-peer.gip.net!news.gsl.net!gip.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!audrey02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail
From: ensdelk@aol.com (EnsDelk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Escher Dream Pt 3 (TNG P/Q NC-17) 2/5
Lines: 486
Message-ID: <1998042318375500.OAA14073@ladder01.news.aol.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com
X-Admin: news@aol.com
Date: 23 Apr 1998 18:37:55 GMT
Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com
Xref: news4.ispnews.com alt.fan.q:1347

"Escher Dreams Part III"
2/5

Picard nodded, rubbing his face against the gray band at the top of Q's
uniform.  Testing Q almost unconsciously, he stood there without moving for a
very long time.  Q did nothing more than hold him, and Jean-Luc grew aware of
the beat of Q's heart, the intake and exhaling of his breaths, the unique
warmth of his body, the roaring in his own ears.

And in the end, it was he who changed the embrace, reaching up without warning
to wrap a hand around the back of Q's neck and draw him down for a kiss.  Soft
and brief, at first, then, as the position of Q's hands changed on his body,
the kisses deepened and grew more passionate.

Large hands moved over the captain's back, pressing him close, then dropped to
cup his backside and push him against the hardness between Q's legs.  Picard
pushed against him, his own erection developing, and moaned.

"Oh, God.  I love you, Q."

"I'm *never* going to get tired of hearing that."  Q's mouth moved along his
neck, and Picard arched into it, wanting more.  He reached his head down just
slightly and bit at one of Q's nipples right through his uniform, and the
entity shuddered and moaned back.  Then Q dropped to his knees, his hands
fumbling at the material over Picard's groin.

"What?"  Picard tried to remember why he shouldn't allow this.  "We're in the
turbolift."

"Oh, well, if that's a problem..."

Picard pushed away the last of the sheet and lay there naked in front of the
anomaly, bathed again in its red light.  For just this moment, he could not
feel absurd or self-conscious, could not worry that he was being perverted or
presumptuous.  Instead, he spread his legs just slightly, leaning back on his
strong arms, trying to say clearly:  

"For me?" Q's warm voice asked, twining itself around Picard's nerves as the
entity flashed into position between his legs.

"All for you," Picard whispered brokenly as Q smoothed his warm hands up the
insides of Jean-Luc's thighs.  The red glow covered them both now, uniting
them, as he spread his legs wider.  He had become almost instantly hard, and
now his cock was trembling as Q's hands caressed him, moving down, then up
again.  He moaned.  "All for you, whenever you want me."

Q's hands moved lightly over his hips, up his stomach, and then to his nipples,
twisting them just as his head bent down to place a kiss on the tip of his
erection.  Picard groaned and forced himself not to thrust as Q's tongue now
licked him delicately.

"More!" 

"How much more?"

"Take...take me in your mouth, please, love."

Q squeezed his nipples hard and Picard felt his cock leak.  He forced open eyes
he didn't remember closing and saw Q's dark head and broad shoulders bent over
him, licking him, the red of the Escher gleaming over his skin and through his
hair.  He remembered fucking the anomaly and screamed with the need to have Q
surround him.

"Now, Q!  Damnit!  Please!"

"Lay back."

"No, I want to watch you.  I want to see you sucking my cock."

Q groaned and moved over him quickly and completely, his tongue gliding along
the swollen ridges, his lips sucking up those drops of precum before they
buried themselves in the gray-black hair crowning his genitals.  Picard
screamed again, kicking his legs slightly, needing this more than he ever
needed anything.

"Yes!  Oh!  Dieu!  Yes!  So *good,* Q."

For half a second, Q was irritated.  There were so many parts of Picard he
wanted to touch right now -- his arms, his legs, his chest, his ass.  Humans
were ridiculous:  so much to play with and only two hands to do it with.  He
thought with longing of the shower, of the way he'd been able to wrap himself
all around Picard as he jerked off, even being breathed into his lungs.

And then he remembered the light of the Escher, and poured some of his
consciousness into it.

Ah.  Ah.  Now as his lips and tongue worked over the hot, leaking cock that
gave his lover so much pleasure -- and felt wonderful inside him -- he could
slide along Picard's flanks and, with a little adjusting of his fleshy Human
body, along his legs and arms and tantalizing pieces of his ass.  And along his
face, into his eyes, along his lips as he screamed.

"What?  What are you...?  OH GOD Q!"

And the man howled as he came, his cum burning Q's throat and his skin shining
with sweat.  Q emptied himself without a touch to his own erection, then slowly
released Picard and sat up, looking over his unconscious form.

*I wonder,* he thought to himself quietly as his body shuddered with pleasure
and the last of his cum dripped from his softening penis, *if after a billion
years of doing this it will affect me less.  Humans worry about losing their
passion for each other, but that's because they don't know what intimacy really
means.  How long will it be before Jean-Luc lets me all the way in?  How long
before I let him all the way in me?"

Just at the thoughts he was entertaining, Q felt his Human body responding, and
hastily changed his mental subject.  A thousand years would not be enough time
to prepare for some of what he wanted, and he had already gotten so much more
than he had hoped for...

"I love you, Q."

"I love you, Jean-Luc.  A bath?  Dinner?  More sex?  Back to the turbolift?"

Picard sighed.  "Back to the turbolift."

Q wasn't surprised.  He nodded and snapped his fingers.  They were back in the
turbolift, and, once more, Q was holding Jean-Luc close.  "What did she say?"
he asked quietly.

Picard sighed, as a little of the tension that their lovemaking had eased
returned.  He knew that this was serious, and that Q had a right to know about
how Beverly felt about the situation, and, even more importantly, about how
Jean-Luc himself felt about Beverly.

"I'll tell you about it tonight," he said.  "Will you join me for dinner?"  

"Of course."

Q almost looked hurt, and Picard felt relief somewhere in the back of his mind.
 He nodded and smiled at Q.  "Time to get back."

"All right.  Just for your information, you still have a half an hour."  Q
leaned down and brushed a light kiss across Picard's lips.  "I love you."

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that either," Picard replied. He
stepped back from his lover and smiled at him.  "I love you too."

When Picard stepped out onto the bridge, everyone looked at him and then
quickly looked back to their tasks.  Squaring his shoulders, the captain looked
over at Data.  "Mr. Data, will you please join me in the ready room?"

"Aye, sir," the android replied, waiting until another crewman came to relieve
him before he moved toward the ready room doors.  Riker shot Picard a look that
asked if Picard wanted company, and Picard shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"Data," Picard said once they'd taken their seats, "I'm sorry I was so brusque
with you on the bridge.  This situation with the Sylnatan didn't give me the
time to break the news about Q the way I had intended."  He looked down at his
hands, suddenly nervous.  He wanted Data to understand, wanted the android's
support, if not his outright approval.

"You do not need to apologize, Captain," Data replied.  His mouth moved in a
rueful smile.  "I have learned that having to deal with a number of complex
emotions at the same time can by very irritating."

"Indeed they can."

"I also feel as though I must apologize, Captain."

"Whatever for?"  Picard frowned.

"I should have realized that the Escher Anomaly was created by Q," Data replied
quietly.  "Perhaps it was the fact that it had no apparent reason for being
except as a work of art that kept me from reaching that conclusion.  It does
not seem like Q to simply create art for the sake of art."

"You're partially correct Data, and in fact, he did have a reason beyond art
for the sake of art when he created the anomaly.  However, perhaps it's a
disservice to think of him as being entirely motivated by selfish reasoning. I
think that we've misjudged Q quite a bit over time.  He's far more complex than
we've ever given him credit for being."

Data looked a little uncomfortable.  "Forgive me for saying so, Captain, but I
wonder if that is an objective remark."

"Well, I never have been objective about Q.  In fact, of all of us, you're the
only person who has ever been objective about him, and that was before you had
your chip."

"Captain, do you know what he said to me, after I saved him from the
Calamarain?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"He said, sir, 'There are creatures in the universe who would consider you the
ultimate achievement, Android.  No pain.  No feelings.  And yet you covet those
qualities of Humanity.  Believe me, you're missing nothing.  But if it means
anything to you, you're a better Human than I."

Picard raised his eyebrow at that, thinking about how much it must have cost Q
to say those words.  

"Now that I look at that situation emotionally," Data continued, "I feel that
he meant what he said.  Perhaps you are correct, Captain, and we did misjudge
Q."

"Right now, Data, I don't know enough to understand why Q did some of the
things he did.  Maybe I never will; I don't always understand why I do some of
the things I do."

"Perhaps we could ask."

"What?"  Picard's brows shot up.

"I didn't mean you, Captain, however, in time, I imagine that some of us on the
senior staff might like to ask Q a few questions.  I believe we would do the
same of anyone who became your partner."

"Just like that," Picard said quietly.  When Data looked puzzled, the captain
continued.  "I didn't expect anyone to be that matter-of-fact about it."  He
smiled.  "Thank you, Data.  Your vote of confidence means a great deal to me." 


Data nodded, and Picard was left thinking that perhaps he had not only
misjudged Q, but that he'd misjudged his officers' abilities to accept his
relationship with Q.  He hastily quashed that line of thought, not wanting to
think of the one officer who did object to the relationship.  *Later, Jean-Luc.
 Deal with that later.*

When he and Data emerged on the bridge, he saw Riker look at both of them
curiously.  Then Li cleared his throat.  "Captain, the Sylnatan are hailing
us."  

Picard checked his display as he sat down, noticing that the other three
Sylnatan ships had arrived.  All six ships were grouped together in a tight
formation and Picard wondered if there would be even more of the small ships
showing up any time soon.

"On screen, Lieutenant," Picard said. 

"I am Admiral Ilnan of the First Fleet," the Sylnatan who appeared on the
screen said coldly.  

Picard nodded.  "Captain Jean-Luc Picard," he said, not bothering with the rest
of it.  "Captain Risnan indicated that your people feel that they have an
interest in this part of space.  

"An 'interest,' Captain?  Yes, you might call it that."

Picard glanced down at his display, where Data had sent him a quick message to
the effect that the Sylnatan-Federation treaty included no claim on the
territory the Enterprise currently occupied.  "I find it interesting," he said
to Ilnan, "that there is no mention of this 'interest' in the treaty between
your people and ours."  

"Captain Picard," she replied, "perhaps you need to contact your government and
have them send a representative to re-negotiate that part of the treaty."

"There is no need to do that, Admiral," Picard replied smoothly.  "I am fully
authorized to negotiate in the Federation's name.  The new treaty will still
have to be ratified by both our governments, of course.  However, if you are
willing to meet with me, we can get the negotiations underway."

The Sylnatan admiral frowned.  "I will consult with my government."

"Please do," Picard replied politely.  "We will await your reply.  And,
Admiral?"

"Captain?"

"It would be unfortunate if your government were to send even more warships
into this sector of space.  The Federation does not negotiate while looking
down the barrel of a gun."

"Ilnan out," the admiral snapped.

Picard waited until he was sure that the screen was all the way off, before he
turned to Troi.  

"She was no where near as confident as she looked.  I think they're all still a
little nervous about the anomaly and the power required maintain it."

"The anomaly..."  Picard frowned and looked at Riker.  "Staff meeting in ten
minutes, Number One."

 "All right," Picard said to Q a moment later.  They were in the ready room and
the captain was resolutely looking at his fish to avoid looking at his lover. 
He was afraid he couldn't even *look* at Q without wanting to touch him
somehow, and now was hardly the time to indulge in that sort of behavior.  "The
Escher..."  Struck by a thought, he turned as he asked:

"Do you have a name for it?  It seems rather presumptuous of me to name your
work."

Q smiled, and Picard caught his breath before letting it out carefully.  *I can
do this,* the man thought, surprised.  *I want him, but I can wait.*

"Actually, I was thinking of Escher when I came up with a couple of the
patterns, particularly the one that's cycling through now.  I didn't have a
name for it, really."  He smiled almost modestly.  "Only a dedication."

"Is it permanent?"

"Yes.  It will cycle through all of its phases and it will then start again. I
used the Escherite to...jump-start it, but it runs on its own power now."

"Je suis un idiot!" Picard exclaimed.  "The Escherite!"  He moved to his desk
and turned the terminal around.  "Look, Geordi and Beverly's initial report
indicated that they had to improvise quite a bit to even harvest a small
sample."  He frowned through the technical details.  "I'm not certain, but I
would hazard a guess..."  He paused.

"Picard to Data."

"Data here, Captain."

"Data, please familiarize yourself with the Synatan level of technology before
the meeting."

"Yes, sir."

Q watched quietly as Picard tapped a few notes to himself onto a padd.  For a
moment, the entity had been hurt by his lover's sudden inattention, but now he
smiled.  Picard was so focused on his train of thought that he almost glowed. 
In fact, on one level he did, and when the captain finally looked up from his
work, Q could help moving toward him.  "I'd rather look at you," the entity
said reaching out to touch Picard's face, "than at a million works of art."

"Please don't, Q.  Not right now."

"Why?  I can stop time and we can..."

"No," Picard replied firmly, even as most of his body told him he was being a
fool.  Before Q could ask, Jean-Luc tried to explain.  "First of all, I need to
feel sharp, not decadent and debauched.  And secondly, I don't need to go into
a staff meeting *looking* decadent and debauched."

Q rolled his eyes.  "She's going to have to learn to live with it, Jean-Luc."

"Yes, she is.  But it's not just Beverly I'm worried about.  It's not fair to
my people if I can just pop out and take a little temporal vacation whenever I
want to have sex with my lover.  None of them can do that."

Q frowned and Picard looked at him carefully.  "I'm not happy about it," the
captain added.  "It's not that I don't want you...God knows I want you right
now, but if this is going to work..."

"I know," Q said through clenched teeth.  

The entity vanished without his usual flash of light, and Picard shook his
head.  They would either have to learn how to work this out, or he would
resign.  Cheered by the fact that he would end up with Q either way, he
straightened his uniform and left the ready room.

His officers were assembled in the conference room when he got there, and the
tension in the room hit him like a drop in room temperature.  LaForge's eyes
were wide and fixed on him as he came in.  Crusher looked absolutely
expressionless, and Troi looked distressed.  Riker looked overtly calm and
cool, and Data had his "everyone looks so interesting" face on.

"I believe I've figured out why the Sylnatan are here," he began at her took
his seat, exercising the captain's prerogative to ignore them all.  "Mr. Data,
you've familiarized yourself with their level of technology and read Dr.
Crusher's report on the difficulty she and LaForge encountered in harvesting
their sample of Escherite."

"Aye, sir."

"Are the Sytalan capable of harvesting it?"

Data blinked at him, then did the computations.  "Unlikely, sir.  However, they
do have the technology required to detect the compound."

Picard nodded.  "So they made no claim to this part of space, believing that no
one else was noticing its value.  Then Q's Escher Anomaly points the way, and
suddenly they want to stake their claim."

"But why object if they can't harvest it themselves?" Riker wanted to know.

"They have to have some idea of its potential uses," Troi said simply.  

"Were the compound less useful than it is," Picard said, "I would make the
obvious offer of sharing some of our yield with them, but it constitutes such a
significant advance in technological possibilities that I'm loathe to pursue
that option."

"Sir, 76% of the Sylnatan's technological advancement over the last two
centuries has focused on military endeavors.  They are regarded by other
species here as a growing military threat.  It would seem likely that any
advance in their resources would result in a further increase of that threat."

"So, what other options have we?"

"We could offer them something in exchange besides the Escherite," Troi stated,
knowing it was the obvious first option.

"I'm sorry, sir," LaForge said suddenly, "but I'm having a little trouble
here."

Picard felt dread coil in his stomach.

"Yes, Commander?"

The Chief Engineer thought a moment, then gestured, "Any offer we make to them,
of any kind, justifies their claim that they have some sort of right to demand
something from us.  They may have known about the Escherite, but they did
nothing about it, and, frankly, this sort of 'dog in the manger' attitude
shouldn't earn them any special favors."

Picard struggled to nod calmly through his relief.  Additionally, he found he
quite agreed.

"I'm with Geordi," Riker growled.  "What they're attempting is grossly after
the fact."

"Our position is further complicated by a lack of any legal system other than
their own for which the Sylnatan would feel obedience," Data remarked.  "And
their own legal system is directly under the control of the military.  I doubt
we would be able to convince them to settle their differences with us fairly in
a Federation courtroom, or through third-party arbitration."

"But they have been receiving Starfleet medical supplies and other humanitarian
aid for decades," Crusher noted.  "We do have some pressure to bring on them."

The moment Picard felt himself relax into an enjoyment of his crew's
professionalism, he became aware of something all together less welcome.  A
deep, hot need was building in his stomach, raising his body temperature
slightly, making more blood flow to a spot he didn't need it to be right this
minute.  With this simple triumph, seeing his people work together after they
knew about him and Q, he wanted nothing so much as to touch Q right now, to
hold him, to touch his crisp dark hair, get him on his knees and have him
gently suck --

*Enough.  Stop.  Enough, Jean-Luc,* he told himself firmly, thinking of the
mission, of very old Ferengi, of Boothby in a dress, of Deanna Troi sitting all
of eight feet from him and picking up on everything he was feeling.

She was showing no sign of it, bless her, as she talked with Crusher about
possible sanctions.

"Just what sort of military threat are we dealing with here?" Riker asked Data.

"The Sylnatan's ships pose little danger in small groups, as we have seen," the
android responded.  "However, their entire fleet is massive in numbers, and
they train to fight en masse.  The Enterprise would not be enough to withstand
more than perhaps two hundred of their ships fighting in such a fashion."

"Would they be willing to bring that many ships to bear?" Riker pressed.

Data shrugged.  "In several recent engagements they have brought several
hundred ships into the fray.  They attack as a hive or swarm and overwhelm
their enemies by sheer numbers."

"The more I know about them the less we should want them anywhere near the
Escherite," LaForge said grimly.  "Captain, some of the uses it could be put
to...with a simple application of phase inversion technology, it would permit
an instant doubling in the energy output of the Sylnatan's disruptors."

"Understood," Picard said with equal grimness.  "Counselor, I take it they
destroyed Escher Nine in order to announce their...readiness to make trouble. 
Do you believe that they feel the appearance of Escher Ten to be our answer to
their challenge?"

"Probably, sir, an impression the speed of its appearance in all likelihood
reinforced."

Picard nodded.  "And do you agree that their stance will become more aggressive
if they no longer believe that we control the Eschers?"

"I do, sir."

While Picard considered this, Data spoke, "Do you not intend to explain the 
Eschers' construction to them, sir?"

"Not at present, Mr. Data, considering what's at stake.  Q won't be interfering
further here, but what he's done we might as well make use of."

There was a pause, then, "Sir, are we to understand that will be your official
position on your relationship with Q and ship's business?"

Picard looked around the table at his officers, thinking of all he wished to
tell them, of what he wished to tell Beverly in particular, and of what he
needed to say and not to say as their captain.

"My personal relationship with an entity capable of snapping his fingers and
eliminating the Sylnatan from existence is not something I was ever trained in.
 I think you should all be aware that I am fully prepared to resign my post
before I allow that relationship to jeopardize or trivialize this ship's
mission.  However, I find that I am in no hurry to make that...step, until it
is absolutely necessary."  A small smile pulled at his lips as his eyes went to
the man at his side.  "Sorry, Will."

"And just when I was getting my hopes up."

END OF PART TWO

From ensdelk@aol.com Thu Apr 23 11:38:41 1998
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From: ensdelk@aol.com (EnsDelk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Escher Dream Pt 3 (TNG P/Q NC-17) 3/5
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Date: 23 Apr 1998 18:38:41 GMT
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"Escher Dreams Part III"
3/5


"Sir," Data said, "do you really believe that you may have to resign?  Q has
shown that he can stand by and watch disasters happen without interfering."

Picard's eyebrows raised, and he found himself holding back a genuine laugh. 
"I hadn't thought before of Q's callousness as a resource, but I think I know
what you mean.  No, if Q says he'll stay out of it, he will, come what may. 
And if I can truly function as captain, then I have no intention of leaving. 
However, I want each of you, everyone in my command staff, to feel free to
bring to my attention any problems you feel are directly or indirectly caused
by Q's involvement in my life.  If this is or isn't going to work, I want to
know, with certainty, as soon as possible.

"In the meantime, I need more options in dealing with the Sylnatan.  I'm
interested neither in bluffing them into temporary submission nor in engaging
in military confrontation."

"It would help if we knew more about what they want," Troi said.  "They may be
more than simply resentful of others' ability to use the Escherite; they may be
concerned about that sort of power being used against them."

"Well, we can't pretend Starfleet won't be making some military use out of the
Escherite," Riker said.  

"But we may be able to work out some sort of pledge that the military uses
won't be employed against them," Troi said.  "After all, the Federation has no
intention of attacking them."

"We would need to make it clear we'd use whatever we liked for defense,"
LaForge said.

"I think it might help if we could have a more specific idea of the Escherite's
potential uses," Picard said, "if only to have our reports to Starfleet take
firmer shape.  As soon as this matter with the Sylnatan is cleared up, we'll
need to recommend appropriate science vessels to take our place here."

"Dr. Crusher and I should have a complete preliminary report by the end of the
evening," Data said, having already made eye-contact with the doctor.

"Fine.  Good."  He'd been hoping to talk with her, but perhaps a cooling-off
period would be best.  "In the meantime --"

"Bridge to Captain Picard."

"Picard here."

"Admiral Ilnam is hailing, sir."

Picard nodded to his officers and they all walked quickly back to the bridge. 
At his nod, Li put the admiral on screen.

"I have been instructed by my government to engage in the negotiations you have
offered," she said tightly.  "Shall we meet aboard my ship tomorrow morning?"

"Certainly," Picard said, "though I am surprised that you wish to meet aboard a
vessel which our scanners say comfortably holds no more than ten people at a
time.  I will, of course, desire my entire negotiating committee to be in
attendance, so things may be somewhat crowded.  Still, I'm sure we'll manage."

"If you want the meetings to take place on your vessel, we would need some sort
of guarantee of our safety."

"Certainly," Picard said with a broad smile.  "What were you planning on
offering us?"

Her eyes flashed, and his eyebrows raised in polite inquisition.  

"We are...prepared to offer our assurances that these talks will be conducted
in good faith and with respect for the opinions of both sides," she grated out.

"As are we."

"Then no further...guarantee is necessary."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"Will 0900, your time, be acceptable?"

"Quite."

She nodded, eyes glittering, and the comm line was broken.

"Why wait until tomorrow?" Riker asked, looking at Troi.

"Captain," Data called from conn.  "The Sylnatan are conducting a series of
high-intensity scans of Escher 10."

Everyone looked to the viewscreen, and Picard found himself captivated by this
latest version of the anomaly.  He hadn't been paying it much attention until
now, but it was breath-takingly beautiful.  Blue swirls constantly moving in
such a complex pattern that it seemed in some way captured in a permanent
implosion.  It was again larger than Escher Nine had been, and so vibrant, so
alive, so thick and rich and --

Oh.  God.  He wanted Q.  Right now.  His whole body was thrumming with it, as
though Q's artwork were plucking at his stretched consciousness.  He had to
touch that incredible warmth, stare into those eyes, kiss that mouth...

"Mr. Data, Dr. Crusher," he said, voice perfectly controlled.  "If you're
ready, we should meet at 20:00 hours to discuss your projections for the use of
the Escherite."

"Yes, Captain," Crusher said quietly while Data nodded.

"Commander," he went on.  "It would be helpful to know when Escher Eleven will
be making its appearance, and, just in case, we should know what other
Starfleet ships are in the area and their ETAs."

"Already working on it, sir."

"Of course."  He smiled at Riker, then felt his body begin to stir.  It didn't
matter whether he should or not.  He had to leave the bridge and be with Q now
or he would explode...or simply get an erection, definitely *not* acceptable
captainly behavior.  "I'll be in my quarters," he finished quietly.

"Aye, sir.  You might ask him, if he'll say, how many more Eschers there will
be."

Picard's smile became slightly rueful.  "I have an idea he'll want to avoid
specifics."

Riker smiled.  Picard turned and left.  No one seemed uncomfortable with it,
even if in the past he would have been headed to his ready room.

"Officers' quarters," he told the computer as the doors swooshed shut.  But the
second they closed, he found himself groaning, "Q..."

And then he was standing in his bedroom, though the bed was bigger and cornered
with four posters.  Lying across it, his wrists and ankles bound with black
chains, was Q, naked and already somewhat aroused.

"What?" Picard couldn't help saying even as he remembered the dream where he
had been the one of the bed, in chains...

"Oh, God."

"Does that mean you like it?" Q asked, sounding just a little hesitant.

"Is that some sort of trick question?"  Picard stepped cautiously towards the
bed, noting the loveliness of Escher Ten out the window almost absently.  *Of
course, it's not quite the same.  He can break out of those chains whenever he
likes.*

"I hope you don't mind, Jean-Luc," Q said as he watched his lover approach with
darkly glistering eyes, "but I've made us a sort of pocket, temporal, but
also...I'm without my powers now."  In that position, Q still managed somehow
to shrug.  "Or at least, I can't access them, not until you let me loose."

Picard felt himself get instantly, painfully hard.  "But...how can you...?"

"I'm a Q.  I can do whatever I want!"  His voice dropped.  "And I really want
to do this."

"Oh, Q.  Love..."  He sat on the edge of the bed, looking over the sensual
feast, his mind whirling with what he wanted to do.  To be trusted like
this...He placed a hand on Q's chest and then just kept it there a long minute,
feeling his warmth, that tiny shiver that ran through him.  "You're
extraordinary and exquisite," he murmured, moving his hand just slightly.  He
looked around, trying to ground himself, and saw the bowl of oil Q had placed
on the table.  His mouth went dry, and he swallowed almost painfully.

"What do you want to do to me?" Q whispered.  "Whatever it is, you can."

Picard closed his eyes, almost dizzy with the thought of those words.  He had a
sudden vision of himself with the Cardassians, of children playing cruel tricks
on each other, on the posturing tyrants in their small ships outside.  Q was
trusting him.  Knowing as much as he did about the cruelty of the universe, he
was trusting him this much.

He was going to make this so good.  Passing out from the pleasure would be the
least of it.

He stood and took off his clothes.  He remembered the edge being clothed had
given Q in his dream, but he wanted a different sort of edge now.  He wanted Q
to look at him, to enjoy what he was seeing, to want to touch him, to watch him
strain with his own erection.

To have him know he wasn't alone in this.

"You're so beautiful," Q said as Jean-Luc stood there beside the bed now,
completely bare and quite aroused.

"It's you who are beautiful," he said quietly, kneeling on the edge of the bed
and bending down to busy his lips in the dark hair atop Q's head.  The rest of
his body aligned itself without his conscious direction, and Q groaned as the
tip of the man's penis trailed along his stomach.  His shifted his hips,
continuing to caress him that way as he moved his lips gently over Q's face: 
his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his ears, his mouth, never stopping, never
going deep.  

Next he kissed Q's neck, his shoulders, his chest and all along his arms and
hands and each sensitive fingertip.  The caress of his sex moved over his lower
body, and soon Q was twisting for the touch of both his lips and that wet
softness below.  Picard made sure he was never with or without those touches
for too long.  As a result, Q's skin flushed dark and his muscles began to
quiver.  He was wracked with shudders and kept bucking his hips, trying to get
attentions to his aching, dripping cock.  By the time he was kissing down Q's
stomach, the entity's breathing had become ragged, and he was making noises of
pained protest. 

Picard paused right over Q's navel, then almost roughly plunged his tongue into
the tight little center.  Q yelped and arched as he next swiveled his body and
straddled Q, so that his ass and erection were offered in a display Q could not
reach.  As he nipped at Q's lower stomach, the entity saw the muscles along the
backs of his legs bunch and flex, saw the shining skin over the curves of his
firm backside, saw the tight opening he had yet to plunder, saw the blood-red
flush of the man's genitals, watched as a thick drop of precum slid off his
cock and dropped to Q's own chest.

"Back up," Q was whispering, "and I'll lick you out."

Picard ignored him, and Q didn't protest, watching now as his lover lowered his
head to Q's hips, kissing them delicately while Q strained against the chains
and whimpered.  He moved on, kissing down the length of each long leg, then up
again, then down to his feet and along the tip of each toe.

Q was whimpering constantly now, except when he was moaning.

"I'm so empty," he kept pleading.  "You make me so empty until you fill me up."

Picard swiveled again, and dropped his mouth to Q's groin.  His lover's groan
of triumph became desperate when he began to bite high inside Q's thighs.  The
long legs, already spread, spread wider, and Q began to thrash.

"Fuck me!  What are you waiting for?  Please, Jean-Luc, *please* fuck me!"

The man dropped lower, exploring with his lips and tongue.  Q jerked as he
licked that relaxed rim, and screamed his name.

Then Picard sat up and reached for the bowl of oil.  His hands were trembling
violently, so he didn't try to pick it up, just dipped his hands into the warm
liquid and then slathered his erection with it.

Grabbing Q's hips with slick hands, he positioned his lover and placed the tip
of himself at that opening.  Dimly, he was aware that he should go slower,
should prepare Q's body more completely, but gentleness was gone now, as Q
urged him on with voice and body, spreading himself even wider, pulling against
the chains, pleading.  His eyes had gone wild, and sweat was pouring from him,
matting his hair, making his whole body glow in the blue light of the anomaly.

"Yes!" Q screamed.  "Fuck me now!"

The heat of the body he was touching washed up and through him, and then he was
pushing in:  so hot, so tight, all down the length of his cock, not stopping
until he was buried inside.  Q's body bent back as he howled Jean-Luc's name.

Picard was beyond thought, thrusting deep inside Q's ass, pumping tension and
pleasure and pressure as hard as he could, watching Q's head rock from side to
side, watching his body strain to meet each thrust, listening to his voice
groan and grunt with the doubled and redoubled bliss of it.

He wrapped his hand around Q's cock and stroked, and then Q was coming all over
him, the hot cum burning his hand.  Q's body thrashed wildly, then weakly, and
then he locked his dazed eyes with Jean-Luc's and pleaded silently, and the man
came inside him as though he were pouring out his life-force.  Q groaned and
shuddered and went lax, and Jean-Luc waited only a moment, panting, before he
sagged down next to his lover's warm, sweat-slick body, draped an arm heavily
over Q's chest, and fell into his own exhausted slumber.

"Are you all right?"

Jean-Luc's head had fallen back, lolling against the hard, uncovered wall of
the attic, his body able to remain standing only because Q was leaning against
him, pressing him back.  Both of them were gasping and shaking, and though he'd
never before come that hard, Jean-Luc was quite aware that he wanted more, a
lot more, as soon as possible.

He forced his eyes open and saw Q's own hunger, and smiled.  "As soon as
possible" was right now.

"Tell me what you like," Jean-Luc told the friend he'd cherished and yet never
truly appreciated before in thirty-two years and seven months.  "Tell me
everything you like, and how I can do it for you."

Q shuddered and let his own head drop to rest against Jean-Luc's.  "I can't
believe you're saying that to me."

"I can't believe how long it's taken me to say it.  I'm so sorry, Q."

"I'm not."  Q smiled while keeping their bodies pressed together, and Jean-Luc
was able to look deeply into his friend's dark brown eyes.  "I don't regret a
moment of the friendship we've had, don't you understand?  You've meant more to
me than anyone.  I love you."

"I love you, Q."  Experimenting, breathless at the thought of what he was
doing, he smiled as he brought up a hand to rest on Q's chest and felt his old
friend and new lover's body tremble while Q's eyes went somehow even darker
than their usual shade.  He slipped a hand under Q's flannel shirt and stroked
the warm skin at first without direction, then down to one of his nipples,
feeling a surprising jolt of pleasure through them both when he reach the tight
nub.

"Oh...what are you doing to me?" Q groaned, his eyes closing.

"Enjoying you."  Responding to pure impulse, Jean-Luc bent his head down to
take Q's nipple in his mouth, but Q jerked away, leaving him feeling lost and
anxious.  "What did I --"

"Jean-Luc..."  Q took his hands in his own and pulled him gently from the wall.
 "If you touch me much more, I'm going to lose the ability to say I want to get
out of this attic to someplace with a softer surface than this dusty floor."

Jean-Luc laughed with relief and agreement, doing up his pants quickly, not
caring that the fly was wet, before they moved to the stairs.  "I'm not sure
we're going to find a bed that's got sheets on it."

"So we'll have to make a bed," Q mocked, going down the stairs first, walking
with less than his usual grace.  When Jean-Luc realized the awkwardness was
doubtlessly caused by Q's arousal, he felt flushed with warmth, and almost
tripped down the steps in his eagerness to find that bed.  Dimly, he remembered
staying in the back room on the second floor sometimes as a child, and now his
feet led him in that direction.  Q walked along at his side, and, unable to
help himself, he slid a hand over Q's rear, enjoying the smooth curve of the
worn denim against his palm.

Q actually stumbled, catching himself against the door-jamb as they reached the
back hall, and Jean-Luc was about to apologize when he saw the wild look in his
lover's eyes.

"You like that?" he asked softly instead, moving up against Q, running his
hands back and forth over Q's buttocks before sliding them between his legs.

"Yes," Q panted, shuddering again.  "Please...the bed..."

Jean-Luc growled and cupped his friend's hardness as he reached up to kiss him
fiercely, then broke away and fumbled for the doorknob of what he desperately
hoped was a bedroom.

The room doubled as a sewing room, but there was a bed there covered by a white
crocheted spread they whipped off to reveal white sheets before tumbling down
on the mattress together.  They were almost grimly determined to get their
clothes off, and the second Jean-Luc had wrestled off his briefs he reached for
Q and was himself wrapped into strong arms which held him closer and with more
comfort than he had even known.  Their shared kiss was deep and hot and he felt
as if he were being transformed inside, becoming someone who could love in a
completely new and better way than he ever had before.

But when he pulled back just slightly to look once again into Q's eyes, he
realized he *had* to tease him, had to know just what his graceful, brilliant,
experienced friend would admit to before he could lose himself in this as
deeply as he wished.

"Thirty-two years and seven months of lusting after me," he mumbled as Q's
hands stroked his back and sides, "must have created a lot of...plans."

"Plans?"  

"Things you want...to do to me."

Q blinked as though trying to clear his mind, and Jean-Luc nibbled on his chin.
 "Ohhhh.  Yes.  Plans."

"Like what?"  He moved his nibbles down Q's neck.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?"

"Yes.  Tell me."

"Tell you?"  Q's body pressed up from the bed, and Picard knew he wanted his
nipples attended to.  He took them between his fingers and pinched lightly,
loving the uneven panting this produced.

"Tell me everything you've ever thought of doing to me."

"That would take another thirty-two years."

Jean-Luc laughed, nevertheless feeling slightly disappointed, and reached Q's
chest with his mouth, closing his lips around a nipple and sucking gently.  

"I've...oh...what haven't I wanted to do?  When we were living together, I
thought of kissing you and holding you and waking up to find you in my bed
instead of the bed across the room.  When we got our own places, I thought of
sneaking into your room at night and sucking you off and taking you while you
didn't know who I was.  When we played tennis together I thought of tackling
you on the court and jumping you right in front of everyone.  When we'd shower
together I thought about having you kneel down and take me in your mouth.  When
we'd fly on planes together I thought about meeting you in the bathroom and
shoving you over the little sink and taking you while you watched in the
mirror.  When we went to estate sales together I thought about throwing you
over every table and then shoving down my pants and coming all over you while
everyone screamed and ran away and you didn't care.  When we went sailing
together I thought about getting us into choppy waters and using the motion to
thrust inside you.  When we'd stay up for hours talking I thought about
kneeling between your knees while you sat in your chair and having you talk
while I worshipped your cock until you couldn't stand it anymore and shoved
yourself down my throat and came inside me and I swallowed every drop, then I
laid you down in front of the fire, pushed back your legs and slipped inside
you."

Picard cut off the flow of fantasies he'd asked to hear by pressing his mouth
down against Q's, intoxicated with the images Q's words had filled him with. 
When he could break for air, he whispered raggedly, "Yes, all of those and
more.  I want to do them all."

"Really?"

"Well, perhaps not that one about the estate sales."

Q laughed, then almost strangled on it when Jean-Luc closed his hand around his
erection.  He thrust against the warmth there.

"I'm thinking of a plan," Jean-Luc murmured, stroking him lightly.

End of Part 3

From ensdelk@aol.com Thu Apr 23 11:39:33 1998
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From: ensdelk@aol.com (EnsDelk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Escher Dreams Pt 3 (TNG P/Q NC-17) 4/5
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"Escher Dreams Part III"
4/5

"Of what?  Oh, that feels so good."

"We're here, fixing up this house, getting it ready for us to live in
together..."  Q groaned and thrust harder, but Jean-Luc kept his touch light,
if unsteady from his shaking hands.  "And we're painting and picking out
furniture, and taking care to make everything just the way we both like it so
we can stay here happily for the rest of our lives."

Q stopped thrusting, his body going rigid, his eyes staring, and for a moment
he looked angry.

"You'd better mean that, Jean-Luc," he growled.

He thought of what he'd just described:  fixing up this house together, living
together, making love together, making an entire life together.  It was
domestic as hell, and it was paradise.

"I mean it."

Q closed his eyes and shuddered, and suddenly Picard realized his lover really
was feeling pain.  The difference between thirty-two years and ten didn't
matter.  The plans and dreams were the same.  All Jean-Luc could do in return
for all those years was offer Q everything he had.

*And is that what you're doing?* the captain asked himself.  *Are you offering
to share your life with Q, or sacrifice it for him?  A Victorian mansion that
needs repainting or the Enterprise that needs a new policy for dealing with the
captain's mate.  Both take an act of will.  You're supposed to be a starship
captain.  Your determination to get what you want is supposed to count for
something.*

"I do mean it, Q.  I mean all of it."

Q's eyes snapped open to stare at him.

"Please, Q.  Make this room *real.*"

And though they now slipped out of their roles of two old friends from college,
the dim edges of the room sharpened.  Dust and the trace of fog filled his
lungs, and Jean-Luc sneezed.

"Real enough for you?"

"Perfect."  He smiled and rolled over on his back before he pulled his legs
against his chest.  "I have another plan."

Q's eyes darkened again as he rolled over and then positioned himself over
Picard's body, pressing down with his weight so he could kiss him deeply. 
"Tell me."

"You said I'm a match for you."

"Yes."

"Prove it, please.  Be inside me and make me feel I'm enough for you."

"And that I'm enough for you?"

"No."  Picard frowned.  "I need to know the opposite:  that you're not too much
for me."

"That part is up to you, Jean-Luc."

Picard smiled.  "Then test me...Your Honor.  Give me all of you.  Burn me, if
that's what it takes, but take me as a mate, not just a lover."

Q looked shaken, but love glowed in his eyes.  "In time, if you want, we could
become completely joined, but that's a long way off for both of us."

"Long after they've pried the Enterprise out of my gnarled fingers?"

Q grabbed one of his hands and held it to his lips, gently kissing each finger
in turn, then laced the fingers of his own hand through it and stared down at
Jean-Luc with enough heat to have burned him, had not the man's own eyes held a
fire to match.

"Be inside me...as much as you can," Jean-Luc whispered.

Q's face reflected wonder.  "What happened?  What's changed your mind?"

Picard grunted.  "I'm tired of being more courageous in my dreams than when I'm
awake."

Someone outside was starting a cold car engine, filling the air with that
rhythmic protest, as Picard pulled his legs up over Q's shoulders and raised
his hips over Q's thighs.  Q's hands helped settle him while his eyes became a
little over-bright in the dusty sunlight from the unwashed window.  He next put
his fingertips lightly against Jean-Luc forehead, smiling, and then traced his
lover's face with reverend care.  Picard turned his head enough to allow his
lips to kiss the fingers as they passed, but otherwise lay still as the touches
trailed along his neck, then his collarbones, then his shoulders, and then in,
along his chest.  They stopped to play a while with his nipples, then down the
light coating of gray-black hair to his stomach, where his navel was teased a
moment, then down to his narrow hips, then up along his legs, which he settled
a bit more comfortably against him.

"Q," Jean-Luc protested slightly, bending his legs at the knees just a bit,
spreading himself out, pumping just once very gently with his hips.

"Your body becomes you, Mon Capitaine," Q whispered.  

"I thought it was 'Moonlight Becomes You.'"  His eyes closed to slits as Q's
hands neared the part of him that most longed for his touch.

"You carry your moonlight inside you, and when people are with you they bask in
it."  His fingers lightly stroked the man's cock, delighting in the ridges and
smooth curves, before his thumb pressed lightly into the slit, caressing the
tip, and the man's whole body jerked.  "Relax," Q crooned.  "I'm not trying to
dominate, just prepare you."

Picard looked simultaneously aroused and contrite.  "It would only be fair."

"What?"  His thumb was making tiny circles while his other hand was tracing
behind the shaft, cupping and caressing his testicles.

"I've been...ohhhh, God...dominating you more than a little...in bed."

"I noticed."

"I'm s--"

"Shhhhhh.  Jean-Luc, we have a long time to love each other, and, knowing the
both of us, there's going to be a lot of variety in there over the years. 
Anytime you feel the need to control me, as long as it means touching me like
this --"  Picard gasped and shuddered.  "Or this."  Picard moaned and arched
his back.  "Or this."  Picard whimpered.  "It's fine by me."

"Hurry.  Fuck me."

Q brushed Picard's anus lightly, then snugly, then with increasing pressure
before he slipped one oiled finger deep inside, pressing out against the
muscle, gently stretching.

"Hurry.  Oh, God."

"I'm not going to hurt you.  Hold on.  You're too...ahh...there we go.  Relax,
my love.  I promise this is going to feel good."

"I be...ohhhhh...believe you."

Q slipped in the second finger with care, adding in more oil, relieved to feel
the muscle loosen further.  Picard was going to be tight, but not too tight for
him.  Q wouldn't have minded making himself smaller, but Picard knew him at
this size already and this really wasn't the moment for springing anything new
on his lover.  As long as he took it slowly, this should work fine.

Taking it slowly, however, wasn't what Q's own body had planned, and his
lover's knowledge of that shone as brightly as anything else in Picard's eyes. 
Q met that knowing gaze bravely, and was rewarded by seeing the man lick his
lips in a manner that rushed hot urgency to his already hot and urgent cock. 
He tried closing his eyes, but then Picard began to moan, rhythmically.  Q
forced himself not to hurry, carefully working in the third finger and adding
yet more lubricant.  Picard's humming moans increased, and Q found he simply
couldn't wait anymore.

"Ohhh," Picard said as Q removed his fingers, the frustration there evident. 
His body almost convulsed as he fought not to protest further, and then Q moved
forward and placed himself at the man's opening, then pushed gently inside. 
Deep hazel eyes flew open in astonishment, and then the sculpted marble which
completed Picard shuddered.  "You feel..."

Q tried to ask what he felt like, but his breath was gone.  The stretching and
lubricant had done their work.  He was easing inside the tight heat and the
sensation up his erection was not to be borne without awe.

"You...feel..." Picard tried again, his eyes blinking wider as Q moved in
deeper, until he was inside Jean-Luc's body to the very base of his cock.  They
stared at each other for long seconds, gasping, trying to adjust, before Q bent
down and kissed him.  When they broke, gently, both needing air, Picard
whispered, "It's so...I feel shattered."

"But not yet burned?" Q asked, a touch of menace there he could not quite
suppress.  Picard below him was a temptation beyond resistance.  To see this
man he had loved and wanted for so long now working to take his cock inside
him, allowing Q penetrate him right to the center of himself...he couldn't
stand it, and, with no warning other than a slight in-take of breath, he
withdrew and thrust, deeply.

Picard arched back with a hoarse scream, his fingers clawing into fists around
the white sheet below them, and at the sight of it Q *almost* came.  He needed
to close his eyes, use his powers, blow something up, somehow keep from losing
himself in this.  The physical sensation of being inside Picard was less than
that generated from having Picard in him, but the *thought* of it was so much
more, and Q was more a creature of thought than physicality.  Suddenly he could
see the path before them which ended with joining Picard's entire self, and he
became very glad indeed that it was a long, difficult journey.  The pleasure
about which he had warned Picard was now threatening to overwhelm *him,* burn
*his* soul with sweet fire.

And he loved it.

Jean-Luc was lost.  Nothing in his life had prepared him for the pleasure of
being fucked by Q.  It were as if someone had reached down through his skin and
exposed his every nerve ending in a manner that should have been excruciating,
but instead only allowed pure bliss to seep into him, carried on the warmth
inside him which radiated out through every atom of his body.  

And then, the focus began to shift from his pleasure-filled body to, somehow,
his consciousness itself.  It were as if the fire could not be contained by
flesh, and spilled over into the greater resources of his mind.  And deeply
inside himself he found not only Jean-Luc, but also Q, screaming the delirium
of joy.  It did burn, ash charred from a diamond, with Q's hands on his legs,
holding them open, Q's thoughts in his mind, holding him open, Q pouring inside
him along with that warm liquid, filling him completely with all of himself.

Dimly, Jean-Luc was aware of coming, the sweet pleasure adding to the ecstasy
that was his mate.


Much, much later, they lay in the rumpled bed, only half-aware, distracted by
happiness.  The pink evening sunlight shimmered a little uncertainly through
the dust in the air and the dirt on the window panes, and there was a decided
chill settling around them, held at bay by each other's warm arms.  A calm came
with the chill, bringing distant sounds through the window Q had opened with a
lazy snap of his fingers, complaining in an almost sleepy voice that it was too
much trouble to get out of the bed.

Picard found it strange to be both exhausted and refreshed, drained and yet
completely at peace.  He felt as though he'd run a marathon and then been
bathed and massaged until he could no longer stand.  Everything felt wonderful,
and if the house caught on fire he wouldn't be able to move.  Hours passed in a
few precious moments, half-asleep and held aloft on sails of dusty white
sheets, fanned out by the lazy exhalation of two men's deep breaths.

It was two or three hours before dawn when Q asked, chuckling deeply, "Wore you
out, did I?"

"Humph."

"So, Mon Capitaine, you're my mate now."

"Hmm."

"Will you mind if I redecorate your quarters a little?"

"Hm?"

"Just a few things.  I'd like to make your bed a bit bigger, and do you think
you could get used to satin sheets?  And I think the place could really use
some fresh-cut flowers.  And the lighting...it's so dark in there.  And maybe a
really nice big armchair in the corner for me to sit in while you're working. 
You won't mind if I like to read while you're filling out reports, do you?"

"Hm...ah...ahem...Q, are you joking?"

"Joking?  I assure you, I love flowers."

"Flowers and bigger bed, yes.  Lighting, no.  Armchair, yes.  Satin sheets...I
don't think so."

"Will you at least try them sometime?"

*Sigh.*  "All right.  Oh.  Oh, God."

"We both seem still to be a little sensitive.  No, don't worry.  You don't have
to get hard, I'm just...exploring a bit."

Picard closed his eyes and simply remembered to breathe.  Q's hands were so
delicate, and yet they sparked along his skin down to each nerve-ending.

Outside, in the very still night, a foghorn drifted up to the window.

Q's touch was wonderful, but Jean-Luc found himself resisting its effects,
half-convinced that getting aroused right now might finish him off.  The
foghorn was a welcome distraction, its incredibly mournful note a sharp
contrast to his settled joy.  And it was odd to think that its purpose was
actually functional here.  San Francisco was a port with ships...

"Ohhhh.  Q..."  He was getting aroused.  He couldn't help it.

"Hm?"

...a port with ships from all over the world, bringing in their cargo and...

"Merde!"

"What?"

Picard rolled over on top of Q and grabbed his shoulders.  "I've got an idea."

Q looked at him oddly.  "I have a feeling you don't mean about us."

"In a sense, I do, but I am thinking of the Sylnatans."

"The spoilsports?  I'm so flattered."

"Don't be ridiculous, Q," Picard growled with affection, surprised at the
boundless depth of it.  He saw his life from now on being ornamented with Q's
moods and taunts and mockery, and instead of the irritation he should feel, he
felt light-headed with his good fortune.  Turning his growl into something more
like a purr, he leaned down to kiss Q properly, taking his time with it, and
smiled as he pulled back to see those sharp eyes so soft, almost dazed, with
unconcealed love.  "Take me back to the Enterprise."

"You got your energy back in a hurry," Q noted, and before Picard could respond
they were lying together in his slightly bigger-than-standard bed in his
starlit quarters.  Picard kissed him again, roughly, then pushed himself out of
bed, only then noticing the many vases of cut flowers around the room.  There
were even white roses in the bathroom, though Q at least stopped short of
putting a vase in the shower itself.

Emerging naked and walking to his closet for a uniform, Picard noticed that Q
was gone, and frowned over the disappointment he felt.  He was going to have to
get used to --

"Oh, look at the starship captain in his all-together."

"I thought you had left."

Q stood in the doorway, pouting, his own uniform fitting him snugly as he
watched Picard don briefs, undershirt, and jumper with efficient movements.

"Yes, I'm just dying to get back to those rugch beetles," Q drawled.

Picard tugged his uniform into place and turned with a calm expression.  "Just
don't change the room around too much while I'm gone."

"Just don't change the universe around too much while I'm busy introducing this
Starfleet shoebox to a little style."

"I love you."

Q moved so swiftly Picard dimly wondered if he'd used his powers.  All he was
certain of was Q's arms around him, his lips pressing and twisting against his
own, and the frantic rush of heat throughout his body.  Right when he was about
to worry about pulling away, Q let him go.

"Play nice with the other mortals," Q told him.  "And be home before dark."

Picard arrived on the bridge early for Alpha Shift, nodded to Data, and went
into his ready room for coffee and reports.  Riker, sensing something was up,
arrived not long after, and the two were ensconced until right before the
meeting with the Sylnatans.

In Sickbay, Beverly Crusher had dealt with the last of the morning rush, the
most exciting case being Ensign Addams' coffee-burnt hand, and was sitting
behind her desk with her own cup of coffee as she finished her medical reports.
 She thought briefly of contacting Captain Picard before his meeting with
Admiral Ilnam, but he had her reports on the Escherite, and there was really
nothing more to say.

End of Part Four

From ensdelk@aol.com Thu Apr 23 11:40:15 1998
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From: ensdelk@aol.com (EnsDelk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Escher Dreams Pt 3 (TNG P/Q NC-17) 5/5
Lines: 402
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Date: 23 Apr 1998 18:40:15 GMT
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"Escher Dreams Part III"
5/5

Her office door chimed, and Crusher was once again grateful for the increased
privacy the Enterprise-E afforded her, clearing away her empty coffee cup
before calling, "Come in."

Q flashed in, sitting comfortably across from her, legs crossed, arms folded. 
She bristled instantly, some part of her more annoyed at her own anger than at
Q's actual appearance.

"Claws sheathed, Bev," he drawled.  "I come in peace."

She smiled tightly.  "I don't see the need for this, Q.  I think everyone's had
their say."

"Everyone except you, my dear doctor."

"Don't 'dear doctor' me."

"That's it," Q encouraged, "let me have it."

"I don't have time --"

"You have all the time you need to clear your little mind, I assure you,
especially since you've decided to sulk in your office while the big boys save
the universe."

"I'm not s--"

"Tell me, Bev," Q hissed, leaning forward, "just how angry do you get when you
think about me and Jean-Luc in bed?"

She glared at him and Q's eyes glittered at her speculatively.

"Sharing his bed, planning our future together...You know, of course, that when
you come for breakfast now you'll find the two of us talking over coffee and
croissants, going over the day's business..."

"You'll never last it," she murmured.

"What was that?"

"You'll get bored, you'll move on, probably leaving me to pick up the --"

"Is that your fantasy, Bev?  Once again he's left with no one but you.  Always
you, there for him..."  Q's voice dropped into open hostility.  "But never
*really* there.  All these years you've been with him, handed opportunities I
would have made use of faster than you can say 'Jack Crusher,' and you've
offered him nothing more than a penny for his thoughts and a lot of meaningless
friendship."

"Our friendship is *not* meaningless." 

"It is when you're looking to get laid."

She flinched.

"Tell me, sugar, why you could never quite bring yourself to take that step. 
You knew he wanted you to.  You knew he wanted *you.*  But you were never quite
ready to tell him your little secrets.  You were never willing --"

"Evidently I was, some time in the future."

Q smiled.  "Is that what's eating you, Doctor?  Are you mad because you didn't
get to go through a doomed marriage?"

"Just because you say --"

"I don't say anything.  I just took you all into the future to see what would
be seen.  *I* didn't decide you have all the emotional depth of a petri dish. 
*I* didn't push him away whenever he wasn't the Great Captain.  *I* didn't
decide he couldn't live up to the memory of Mr. Laughs.  *I* didn't tell him he
was too demanding, too needy, too different in his personal life from his
public persona."

"I didn't say any of that!"

Q wagged a finger at her.  "You can't play it both ways.  Either you never went
for him or you did and then rejected him.  Come on, Beverly.  Doesn't it give
you a little satisfaction to know that your instincts were right?  It's *good*
that you were too chicken to grab him."

"You have no cause to pretend you understand anything about my relationship
with Jean-Luc!"

"I understand that you weren't good enough for him," Q noted.  "And I am."

"You understand nothing!  How *dare* you come here and take him from --"  She
stared at him, horrified.

"Yes?  Take him from what?"  Q looked at her innocently a long while.  "Do you
mean take him from you?  Did you have him?  Was he your little ace in the
whole?  Hm?  Were you planning on cashing him in if you never got another
Odan?"

"Leave me alone, Q."

"Beverly, think!" Q urged, catty pose dropped as he leaned forward.  "You have
been friends for years.  You've been comfortable with your relationship as it
is *for a reason.*"

She stared at him, revealing nothing.  He squelched the impulse to read her
mind.

"Did he tell you why you two got married?"

She blinked.  That hadn't quite been the question she'd expected.  She found
she was shaking her head.

"He was injured, badly, on a mission into Romulan space.  You, Riker and the
rest were able to get him out, but he was months recovering, and it was during
his treatment that you found out about the Irumodic Syndrome.  You stayed with
him throughout his physical therapy, and one night after a long session of
stretches you finally went to bed.  You were married about a week later."

Crusher felt her stomach twist.  Despite her own wishes, she believed Q. 
Jean-Luc's illness would have allowed him to be weak in her eyes without
censure.  But then, when he'd recovered...yes, she knew herself well enough to
believe she would have wondered if he weren't healed.  She would have pushed,
and pushed, trying to fight the onset of Irumodic Syndrome, trying to get him
"back into shape," not realizing he *was* all right.  She hadn't been the
monster Jean-Luc, honestly speaking from his own perspective, had painted her. 
Ignorance had prevented her from understanding, and their tempers had
doubtlessly done the rest.

"You're his friend," Q said quietly, startling her.  "The idea of hurting you
hurts him, and quite frankly does nothing for me."

She snorted.  "You don't care about my feelings, Q."

"Actually, I care about his and he cares about yours.  If fact, you're
practically my in-law."

"Are you trying to make me ill?"

"I'm *trying* to get you see that you're hurting an old friend."  Q shot her a
look of pure charm.  "You're only going to regret this peevishness later, you
know."

She glared at him.

"You've seen him become involved with other lovers before," Q prodded.  "It
bothered you somewhat, but your friendship always won out.  What's different? 
Is it because you know I'm not letting him go?  Is it because I'm a Q?  You
should be flattered it took an omniscient immortal to win out over you.  Is it
--"

"Would you have killed her?"

Q frowned.  The question had been asked so softly he almost hadn't stopped in
time to hear it.  *Killed who?* 

"Amanda?" he hazarded.

She nodded.

"I was the Continuum's appointed executioner," he said.  "If she had needed it,
I would have eliminated her.  And yes, if you hadn't won out over the Borg, I
would still be watching Humanity's final assimilation and doing nothing to stop
it."

"And if Jean-Luc hadn't been able to prevent his destruction of Humanity?"

Q half-smiled.  "The test was genuine, but if he'd failed, we weren't going to
leave the galaxy to be destroyed by it."

She shook her head, eyes narrowed.  "You talk so cavalierly of death and
destruction.  Does suffering mean nothing to you?"

"What do you think it *should* mean to me after five billion years?  How long
do you think your doctorly compassion would last after you've watched more
races than you can remember dwindle into nothing?"

A slow smile of her own hovered.  "And yet you've decided to fall in love with
a Human, haven't you?"

"I didn't decide to do any--"

"A very compassionate Human, at that.  Tell me, Q, have you figured out what
you're going to do when he asks you to save some mortal or other from that
suffering you don't care about?"

"He wouldn't ask--"

But Beverly was talking to herself now, shaking her head again in amazement. 
"We've all been so busy thinking about how this is affecting Jean-Luc, we've
not thought at all about what this is going to do to you.  Are you going to be
exiled from the Continuum again?"

"Of course not."

"Are you sure?  What about when he wants you to do something you're not
supposed to do?"

"He *wouldn't* ask me to do something that would hurt me."

"True, but what about when you don't feel like telling him it would hurt you
because you want to help him too much?"

Q stared at her.

"And what about his own mortality?  Are you going to let him die, or force him
to become Q?"

"I'm not going to force him to do anything."

"Even live?"

"If Jean-Luc wants to die, I can do that."

She blinked.  "You mean, you'll let him die, or you'll die with him?"

"Yes.  Whatever he wants."

Beverly began to laugh, knowing it was cruel, unable to stop herself.  Q sat
there, taking her laughter with a slightly raised brow.  When she could talk
again, she sighed, "You have no idea what you're in for, do you?"

"No.  Unlike *some* people, I don't have to."

That quieted the last of her mirth.  "You don't know and you can't control it."

"I don't need to do that either."

She tilted her head, allowing that half-smile to return.  "You know, it just
might be worth it after all, getting to watch you deal with this."

"Prepare to be dazzled by happiness."

She shook her head slowly, eyes glinting.

"That's Jean-Luc's own happiness we're talking about as well, you know."

And then she simply smiled, the last of her rage boiling away.  "Jean-Luc, I'm
sure, will be getting what he wants."

Q frowned, puzzled.  "Then...we're in agreement?"

She sighed, waving a hand at him faintly.  "Go away, Q.  I can't deal with
agreement just yet."

And, to what she vaguely realized was only the beginning of her surprise, Q
nodded politely and flashed out.


Picard sat in his ready room alone, knowing Q would appear the moment he
requested it, but not yet ready to make that request.

It was odd, he thought.  He should feel different.  The moment should be
more...momentous.

The Synatan ships were leaving for their home, a Synatan-Federation agreement
signed by both Ilnam and himself in their databanks.  Starfleet had been
notified that the "crisis" was over, and that the Federation had agreed to pay
the Synatan government a tariff on the export of the Escherite through Synantan
space, a route of transportation which would allow easy access to the nearest
Federation starbase.  Ambassador Arlic had made an official request to return
to Kes-Prytt ASAP to inform his own government of the profit to be made in
opening their own space to tariff-paying transports.  Everything had gone
better than he'd let himself hope.

And just now, Admiral Koobin!at had just been informing him of Command's
pleasure in his solution to a "difficult situation," and suggested, once the
science vessels arrived to take over the Enterprise's study of the Escherite,
that Picard treat himself and his crew to a little shoreleave on the nearby
planet of Haven.

His old-fashioned solution had only come to him because he'd been in San
Francisco with Q, listening to the foghorn warning the ships in the bay, and
yet that really couldn't be said to be an abuse of Q's powers, could it?  He
could just as easily been in the holodeck.  The idea had been all his, and...he
sighed.

*Face it, Jean-Luc.  You're going to go on trying to be captain as long as you
can, whether you're in love with Q or not.*

Nodding sharply, he stood and walked out onto the bridge.  Riker met his eye,
smiling.  Troi was not at her station, doubtlessly attending to the needs of
some crew member.  Data manned ops.  Beverly came out of the turbolift.

Picard did not quite falter, but he met her eyes gravely, surprised enough to
start slightly when she smiled at him.

"There you are," she said.  "I was hoping to catch you before the end of
shift."  She motioned back into the turbolift.

Picard met Riker's eyes.

"All's quiet, sir."

"Indeed, Number One."  He nodded and walked into the lift with his CMO.  

She barely waited for the doors to close.  "Jean-Luc, I'm sorry."

"Beverly, I --"

"Q came to see me."

He looked at her with an uncertainty she found most satisfying.  "And?"

"And I've realized things are a bit more...equal between the three of us than I
thought."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, I'm not angry anymore."  She smiled brightly as the lift doors opened
onto the deck for her quarters.  "Goodnight, Jean-Luc."

Picard watched her breeze out with wide eyes, then shook himself as the doors
closed with their hiss.  The lift took him to his deck one level below hers,
and he walked to his quarters with growing urgency.

"Q," he began as he walked through his doors, "what did you say to..."

An enormous bed was draped in miles of red velvet.  Slave-girls and slave-boys
were holding aloft waving fans, offering up trays of exotic fruits, and playing
a soothing melody on harps and flutes.  Q lay in the center of the bed, naked.

"Q!"

The entity laughed and snapped his fingers.  All was restored to his regular
room, though Picard peripherally noted a few things seemed out of place, like
the incredibly comfortable-looking armchair in the corner.

"I just wanted to give you a little surprise," Q laughed, standing there calmly
in his regulation uniform.

"Q..."

Picard found himself in the middle of an embrace, Q's arms wrapped around him
as though they had been tailored for his waist, chest, and shoulders.  He
looked up and found himself being kissed with expert, passionate thoroughness. 
Whatever he'd been about to ask drained from his thoughts as he began to
express his own passionate thoroughness.

But when he opened his eyes, Picard saw the ambient light of the room change
from the blue tint to which he'd almost grown accustomed to return to that
golden haze he recognized.

Only the thought of Escher Eleven could get Picard to look at anything other
than Q's face in that gold light.

"My God, Q," he breathed as he stared out the window.  "It's beautiful."

The anomaly was again composed of gold rings, but this time, instead of jewels,
miniatures of the previous Eschers ornamented those rings.  Moreover, Picard
knew the pattern.  The blue of Escher Ten held the very center of the orrery,
and the sixth ring out from the center held the golden rings of the orrery he'd
seen before, the seventh ring held the Escher which showed the universe as a
negative, and the ninth and final ring held the first and smallest Escher while
the ring itself rotated on its own intersecting plane.

"It's an orrery of the Terran system?" he asked quietly, having moved to the
window to place his hands upon the transparent surface, bathing in the lush
glow.  The third ring held the Escher of prisms.

"Yes."  Q stood directly behind him and began to nibble very gently at his left
ear.

"What about the one from before?  You said...ohhhhh...you said it was based on
something."

"Yes."  The tip of his tongue began to trace the whorls.  Picard knew he didn't
have long to ask the rest of it.

"Is it...Oh, God...Is it the system the Q came from, originally?"

"Sort of.  It's a long explanation and right now I'm going to fuck you."  Q
dragged him away from the window and into the bedroom, where the gold light
followed, illuminating skin as their uniforms disappeared.

"But what about the signature?" Picard persisted even as his body began to
burn, even as they fell on the bed and reached for each other.

"You have to figure that one out on your own," Q said with a slightly wicked
smile.

"What...what did you say to Beverly?"

"We'll talk *later,* Jean-Luc."

"Q, this bed is enormous."

"Nice, don't you think?"  Q rolled then, so that Picard was on his back, and
bent down to kiss his nipples, and the man did have to admit it *was* nice. 
Surrendering, for now, he spread his legs and groaned with pleasure as Q's
fingers slipped inside him, preparing him.  His mind, filled with mysteries and
questions and dreams, shut out everything but sensation, allowing him to drown.

And when Q at last slid inside him, making him scream with roaring bliss, his
mind was filled with his mate's love, and Picard realized Q was right.

They could talk later.


THE END