For some unknown reason, I had a sudden impulse to write a story
that was less than 500 words.  Perhaps because nothing else I have
on Q is even close to this length.  I personally think the idea of
Q arguing over doing the dishes is a pretty neat one, but then, I
have a warped imagination.  ;)


Picnic A La Q by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com)


Picard and Q had taken a spot alongside on the river bank, where
they were even now lying on a red striped blanket, taking in the
afternoon sun.  Behind them laid the remnants of a picnic, a half-
empty wine bottle, leftover pieces of chocolate cake, a knife, a
block of cheese, and all the other various odds and ends that seem
to appear whenever lunch is finally over, no matter who happens to
be doing the lunching.

"I suppose you'll want to go back to that dreary little house of
yours soon," Q said, his arm over his eyes, shading them from the
sun.

"Eventually, yes," Picard said.  They had been discussing many
things over lunch, the nature of the universe, the inevitability of
change, and whose turn it was to do the laundry.  But now they had
fallen into a kind of golden afternoon repose, neither of them
doing anything or wanting to do anything at all.

"I suppose you're going to make me clean up the mess from *your*
picnic," Q grumbled, not looking up.

"Well, it *would* be easier for you to do it," Picard said, a trace
of good humor showing through the laziness of his voice.

"Not without using my powers.  And you do so frown on that, Jean-
Luc.  I wouldn't want to *displease* you by using them around you."

Picard glanced over at his companion, an amused smile on his lips. 
"You only use that excuse when you're trying to get out of doing
something."

"It works, doesn't it?" Q asked, a smug expression visible below
where his arm was across his face.

"Not this time.  I feel entirely too relaxed to move.  I plan to
spend the rest of the evening here, and possibly the rest of the
week.  If you want to leave, you'll have to do the cleaning up."

"Sheer emotional blackmail," Q accused.  "You're just trying to get
out of cleaning the dishes."

"Not at all," Picard replied.  He raised up on one elbow and looked
down at Q.  "I'd just like this afternoon to last for a very long
time, that's all."

****

Q banished the golden scene with a thought, disgusted with himself
for having ever entertained the notion of such a self-serving
fantasy.  A fantasy completely unbecoming to one of his
omnipotence.

It could never happen.  He would *never* settle down into such
disgustingly cozy domesticity.  And he was absolutely, completely,
entirely, beyond a doubt certain that he didn't want to.

Right.


-the end-