From fitchett@netaccess.co.nz Mon Aug 31 22:40:37 1998 Path: news5.ispnews.com!news4.ispnews.com!news11.ispnews.com!news1.ispnews.com!nntp.abs.net!newsfeed.wli.net!Supernews73!supernews.com!Supernews69!fitchett From: fitchett@netaccess.co.nz (Sasscat Bu-to-y) Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW2ASC: Mind Your Ps and Qs [NC-17] (P/Qlar, Voy) 1/1 Date: Tue, 1 Sep 1998 18:40:37 +1200 Organization: http://www.supernews.com, The World's Usenet: Discussions Start Here Lines: 383 Message-ID: <199809011840371356524@ppp186164.netaccess.co.nz> NNTP-Posting-Host: 202.27.186.164 X-Trace: 904631833 OHNSFAZXNBAA4CA1BC usenet80.supernews.com X-Complaints-To: newsabuse@supernews.com X-Newsreader: MacSOUP 2.2 Xref: news5.ispnews.com alt.startrek.creative:25676 Title: Mind Your Ps and Qs Author: Sasscat Bu-to-y Series: Voyager Rating: NC-17 Codes: P/Qlar Part: 1/1 Summary: While Voyager's crew prepare to get into the Continuum to stop Q mating with Janeway, Qlar takes some action of her own... Disclaimer: Paramount owns Qlar, "The Q and the Grey", B'Elanna, and Tom. I'm just borrowing them for my own... *personal* use. Author's Note: For maximum enjoyment, right after reading this go watch a tape of "The Q and the Grey" and see how Paris reacts when Qlar speaks to him on the bridge. Heh heh heh... Thanks to Jane St Clair for betareading, and to the Sister who isn't Zeborah for the title. Feedback (please!) either on ASC or at fitchett@netaccess.co.nz Mind your Ps and Qs (c) Sasscat Bu-to-y 1998 "...And *then* she said, 'I hope you're not comparing some failed romance in your pitiful existence to my eternal association with Q'. I could have throttled her!" Torres sighed and shook her head. "Why can't we just meet some polite aliens for once?" Paris suppressed a yawn. "We did. They tried to - politely - destroy us. Come on, Lieutenant, you're not letting some omnipotent being with an ego to match get the better of you, are you? She can't be that bad." "Ohh, you have *no* idea." She tapped in a new command with her free hand. "Hang in there, Torres. As soon as you've finished reconfiguring the shield array we can get into the Continuum, rescue the captain, and be on our merry way. Just don't--" "You there!" B'Elanna paused as the haughty voice rang out over Engineering. "Look who's deigning to associate with us mortals," she muttered. "Q, I already told you if you don't stop pestering me--" "Not you," Q said disdainfully as she reached them. "Him." "Him?" Torres' exclamation blended with Paris' surprised, "Me?" "That's right." Q looked him up and down. "I want to talk to you." Tom leaned back against the console and crossed his arms. "What about?" "It's private." "You're not embarrassed to reveal your omnipotent problems in front of us mortals, are you?" He gave her a challenging stare. "You're not afraid to be alone with me, are you?" She matched his challenge with what was almost a smile, albeit a mocking one. "Come on, Lieutenant," Torres mimicked. "She can't be that bad." "Fine." Paris pushed himself off from the console and strode towards the door. As soon as he was out of Engineering he turned to Q. "Alright, so what's this about?" "Not here." She swept past him along the corridor. Tom bit back a sharp retort and let his curiosity lead him after her into the turbolift. "Deck four." Q was standing by the side of the lift with her arms folded and an unreadable expression on her face. She stayed like that until the lift stopped, then followed him out. He walked swiftly down the corridor, determined not to be the one to break the silence. He didn't even pause when they reached his quarters, barely giving the doors enough time to open. Once inside, he started to turn when suddenly his back was against the wall and a mouth was pressing hungrily onto his. Q's mouth, he realised with a start, and twisted his head away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She actually smiled. "You'll do." "Do for what?" "I want to show Q that two can play at his little game. The toad mates with your captain; I mate with--" "What?! No!" He started to push past her and she slammed his shoulders back against the wall. "Oh, I think you'll change your mind." Q slid an arm across his throat to keep him pinned to the wall. She twined the other hand in his hair and kissed him again. Tom tried to shove her away and she pushed her arm hard into his throat. He made a strangled choking sound and quickly dropped his arms. "What's the matter?" Q murmured, still pressed up against him. "Don't you like me?" He glared at her. "I detest you." "But you like my body." Well, yes... He swallowed, feeling the pressure of her arm on his throat. "I'm not interested, Q." She let go of his hair and ran her hand down the side of his face. "You can't seriously expect to hold out against me forever." He swallowed again, cheek tingling where her hand was resting on it. "I can try..." This time when she kissed him Paris returned the favour. She made a slight sound of surprise which he cut off almost immediately by revving up the intensity of the kiss even more. Slowly, ever so slowly, he shifted her around until he was away from the wall, then broke free and hurried to the door. It wouldn't open. He hit the panel beside it and tried not to panic, licking his burning lips almost without noticing. He hit the panel again, then tried to pry the door open with his fingers. It didn't shift even a millimetre. "I hope you're not trying to leave before I'm done with you." He didn't dare turn back around and glared at the door instead. "You can't be doing this. You lost your powers!" Even just talking felt strange after that fierce kiss and he felt like wiping his mouth; wiping away the sensation of her tongue exploring him, feeding the ball of desire in his stomach... Hell. This was not going at all well. "I was wounded, not paralysed. Even a half-witted mortal like you should be able to comprehend *that*." He whirled around to glare and started as he saw she'd pulled off the jacket and turtleneck. Briefly, then recovered his balance and snapped, "Comprehend this: I'm not going to mate with you. I never *will* mate with you. So you might as well just let me go right now." But she did look good in that action singlet... He grabbed that thought and snapped its neck. There was no way in hell that he wanted this. Now if only the rest of his body would agree... "Maybe you'd prefer a more romantic setting. Warp ten, perhaps?" Q smirked. "Now *that's* something Q hasn't considered while chasing your captain..." Tom took half a step towards her furiously then caught himself and thumped the door hard. Damn, that hurt. He tapped his commbadge for the sake of it. "Paris to security." He waited for a couple of seconds then thumped the door again in frustration. Not that he'd expected it to work, but he needed to vent his adrenaline and the other option didn't really appeal. He turned around again and found himself rooted to the spot as Q slowly approached. Hell, he was practically growing branches. "Now that you've discovered that you really are stuck in these dismal little quarters with me, perhaps we can get down to business." She slid a hand down his side. The touch snapped him out of it and he grabbed her hand just as it started to move a little too low. "No." Her laugh sounded forced even to his ears. "You've got spunk. I like that." He gave her a disgusted look and tried to push her away, but she had anticipated it and pinned him to the door with her arm back across his throat, making his breathing even more ragged. "You're not going anywhere." Q pushed his throat warningly, and remembering the stabbing pain from last time, he let go of her wrist. "Don't try and pretend you didn't enjoy that kiss, Paris." He shivered as her finger brushed tantalisingly over his still-burning lips. The voice telling him that there was no way in hell he wanted this was quickly getting overpowered by the voice that was telling him there was no way in hell he was letting an opportunity like this slip through his fingers. Then Q kissed him again, but not like the other few; just a soft, delicate brush against his mouth. She had taken a step backwards and the only part of her touching him was the tongue teasing across his lips and the arm obstructing his breath. The distance between them was only a few inches, though; he swore he could feel her from the wall. Between the hell she was playing with his hormones and that arm across his throat it was a miracle he could get any breath at all. He realised that he was arching towards her, trying to get some contact, forgetting that this was just what she wanted because dammit, he needed to get laid! That made his mind up for him and he tangled a hand in her hair, roughly pulling her back towards him. He thrust his tongue into her hot mouth, eliciting a low moan of satisfaction. The sound triggered something in him and he pushed her onto the floor, dropping down to straddle her before she could think about getting up again. "I hope you like it rough," he said harshly, drinking in the desire in her eyes, "'cause I'm going to screw you all the way to China." "So *that's* how you intend to get home," she sneered, unzipping his jacket. He growled angrily and pushed her shoulders into the floor, hard, before attacking her lips again ravenously. She peeled his jacket off without breaking the kiss and had moved to the fastenings of his uniform pants by the time he'd decided turnabout was fair play. He shifted backwards and cursed as his erection rubbed against the seam of his briefs. He tugged her tank top out from the waist of her uniform pants and slid with it up her belly, kissing and sucking at each further inch of exposed skin. Q hissed sharply and grabbed his hair to pull him further up, but he obstinately refused to touch her breasts and instead nibbled at the base of her neck. He trusted his roaming hands and lips to get the message across; if she wanted this she'd have to do it his way. A knee slipped between her legs and he ground it against her crotch as he finished sliding her singlet off, running his hands with it along the entire soft length of her arms, ending with her wrists held to the floor. She lifted her head just enough to reach his lips and pulled him down by virtue of mouth alone so that he lay on top of her, pushing down on her with every deep breath. She moaned as his knee drifted away and said snarkily, "Do I have to take that ridiculous uniform off you or are you capable of that much yourself?" A tiny part of Tom's brain suggested now would be a good time to get up and toss her out, but was instantly laughed down by the rest of his body. He shed the rest of the restraining uniform as quickly as he could, just in time for Q to tackle him and roll him onto his back, making him gasp at the sensation of her skin on his. "Now we do this my way," she hissed, the bare arm across his throat leaving her just enough room to nip and tease her way down his jaw while the other hand tangled in the curly hair of his chest. "Oh, god..." Paris writhed under her touch, digging into her back in a futile effort to regain control. Eventually he gasped out, "You're awfully good at this for someone who's supposed to be eternally associated with Q." Her lips stilled for a moment, drawing from him a low moan. "That's hardly any of your business." "You're lying on top of me, half-naked, and you think your love-life's none of my business?" "That's right." Tom snorted then transformed it into a moan as her mouth resumed its trail down his jaw. "I don't see you getting the rest of *your* uniform off," he managed. "But it looks so much better on me." She trailed her hand down his chest and stomach, nearly at his groin when she suddenly lifted it and started unfastening her pants. He moaned in protest as her hand left and she recaptured his mouth to silence him. He could feel her wriggling against him as she slithered out of the pants and oh, it felt good. He put one hand down on the carpet and rolled them over; now it was his turn to tease her jaw. He worked his way down her throat and licked across her collarbone then pulled away for just long enough to hear her ragged breaths. He knew she was wondering what he'd do next so he didn't waste any time in lowering his head again and sucking hard on her breast. "Ohh..." Q arched towards his touch then moaned even harder as one of his hands slipped between her legs, stroking at first, then digging in until he was thrusting deep inside her with his fingers. He felt her push back against his fingers, matching each thrust, then he drew them out and cut off her protest by running them along her lips, dipping them into her mouth. She licked his fingers hungrily, then firmly sucked them, finding out how she tasted. Just as she looked about to flip him onto his back again, he lifted himself and plunged into her. She gasped loudly and arched her back. "Oh yes..." Tom sped up his strokes until he couldn't distinguish one frantic cry from the next. It wasn't long before he was nearing the edge, but Q got in first. With a cry she clenched around him, her spasm sending him plummeting after her, crying just as loudly as the wave of fire broke over him. After several seconds, Q rolled him over and placed a kiss on his cheek before standing. "Thanks, dear. Maybe one day I'll do you a favour in return." She snapped her fingers and was instantly clothed and looking immaculate. "I suppose I'll see you on the bridge. Don't be late, now." She gifted him with a superior smile and sauntered out the door. Paris closed his eyes. She'd *used* him. And he'd let her, knowing she was using him for revenge, knowing she was so arrogantly confident that he couldn't refuse her. Apparently she was right. "Fuck," he muttered, getting up and gathering his clothes. "Computer, time." "The time is thirteen-oh-three hours." Time to shower, get a fresh uniform and maybe a snack before he was due back on the bridge. What had happened to him wasn't going to happen to the captain, not if he could help it. **** Tom tossed his padd on to the floor by his la-Z-boy and stretched. Holding the leader of the Q Continuum at gunpoint had gone a fair way towards cooling his need for revenge, until in the mess hall B'Elanna had casually asked what had that *woman* wanted and he'd almost choked on his hair pasta - not that he hadn't been doing a fairly good job of that anyway. So then he'd been fielding questions from Harry as well, and he'd made up something about Q wanting to know how likely it was that the captain would give in. Q appeared with the usual flash of light, holding a uniform-clad baby. "I hope you know how to change a diaper, Helmboy." He almost fell off the la-Z-boy, but managed to stand and greet her with an angry, "What the hell do you want now, Q?" "Here." She handed him the baby. "Helmboy, meet q. Not like *that*," she added hastily, and rearranged his arms around the child. "Better." "If you think--" Paris started. "Not so loud! You'll disturb q." "If you think," he repeated, although quieter, "that you can saddle me with your child whenever you want a break, just because we had sex, then you're out of your omnipotent skull!" Q smiled. "Isn't that the usual definition of fatherhood?" "Fatherhood?" After a moment it sank in. "*Fatherhood*? M-- Me?" "Is there an echo in this room? Yes, you. Of course, if this gets out I'll never live it down in the Continuum." She pouted slightly. "Not to mention Q and his insane jealous spells. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this grotty little incident." "Fatherhood?" Tom repeated weakly. Q closed her eyes briefly. "*Mortals*. Let me put it into words of one syllable for you: We had sex. Sex makes babies. We made a baby. Meet q." q burbled. "Your linguistic talents are duly noted and appreciated," Paris said dryly. "Now kindly take your little q and get out of my life." "But you're his *father*--" "You don't want me to mention this to Q, right? So I assume you're going to keep on pretending the baby's his." "Well, naturally, but--" "Then I don't want anything to do with it," Tom said sharply. "As far as I'm concerned, this entire 'grotty little incident' never happened. Clear?" "Alright, then," Q said, taking q from his arms. "Just one word of advice, Helmboy." "Yeah?" "If you value your pitiful mortal existence," she said calmly, words evenly spaced, "never interrupt me again." Then she was gone. Tom stood there for a moment, then looked around his quarters. He picked up his padd and casually sat back on the la-Z-boy. "Never happened," he repeated. THE END