NOTE:  This is a Star Trek/X-Files crossover story.  It was
originally intended to be funny, have a point, and possibly some
romance.  However, at this stage of pregnancy, I'm afraid I no
longer have the patience.  So this is what you end up with.  Serves
me right for trying to write while I'm having contractions.  ;)

All the usual disclaimers about characters belonging to other
people apply.



To Kill a Q, by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com)


"Jean-Luc!"

"Q!"

The omnipotent entity stepped down from the railing around the
bridge and bounced lightly over to Picard.  "You won't *guess*
what's going on now."

"I'm being punished for sins committed in my younger days, and
you're my penance," Picard said dryly.

Q cocked his head.  "Nothing like that.  Although I suppose you
might consider me a *reward* if you like.  I certainly wouldn't
keep coming back here and saving your portion of the universe
without a good reason, after all."

"And that is?"

"It's been a slow week.  Mind if I sit down?"  Q displaced Riker
from his seat without another word, sending the first officer to a
seat in Ten-Forward.

"What is this about, Q?" Picard asked warily.  Q was oftentimes
more of a hindrance than a help, although the captain had to admit
that things usually seemed to turn out all right in the end.  It
was just the getting there that wasn't so much fun.

"You're needed to run a little errand for the Continuum, Jean-Luc,"
Q said, suddenly serious.  "One of the Q has disappeared, and we
need you to find him and kill him."

"Pardon me?" Picard asked.  "First of all, Q, we're engaged in an
important mission here..."

Q dismissed that with a flick of his hand, sending the Enterprise
flying.  Around them, people clutched onto their consoles, and
alarms sounded.  And then everything was still again.  "A minor
matter.  As you're now in the 20th century, orbiting Earth, I doubt
your petty concerns really matter."

Picard looked at Data for confirmation.  The android nodded.  "From
the level of communication I have been able to intercept, I believe
that this is indeed Earth of the 20th century.  Specifically, the
latter part of the century, somewhere in the era..."

Q raised his hand, cutting him off.  "Any other objections, mon
capitaine?"

The captain tried hard to hold onto his temper.  Not an easy task
with Q there.  "And even if I *were* willing to commit murder --
which I am most definitely *not*, wouldn't a member of your own
race be more suited for this... task?"

Q shook his head.  "We cannot kill each other.  Shred, rend to
pieces, lock away for all eternity, even marry -- but we can't
kill."

"Morals?  From you?" Picard was unable to resist asking.

"The Q inhabit a higher plane of ethics than you can even imagine,
Jean-Luc."  Q waited a moment, then went on.  "No, this has to be
done by a mortal.  The consequences would be devastating if a Q
were to kill another Q.  I can assist and guide you, but the actual
act must be carried out by a mortal."

"But Trelane..."

"You did that.  I merely helped.  This is as necessary as that was,
and as unavoidable."

"Why me, Q?" Picard asked, unable not to.

"Because you've already done it before," Q said lightly.  "You're
already tainted with the sin of slaying one of my godlike brethren. 
And, more importantly, I knew you didn't have anything better to do
right now."

While Picard fumed over that, about to launch a scathing response,
Q disappeared, leaving all too many of Picard's questions
unanswered.

****

Picard's staff assembled in the Ready Room.

"You can't seriously mean to carry out Q's request, Captain," Riker
said.

Picard looked at him steadily.  "If he's telling the truth, I may
have no choice.  Trelane was insane, and would have destroyed
everything we knew.  If this Q is as dangerous, there may be no
other course of action possible."

"But you're not sure," Troi said questioningly, picking up
something from the captain's tone as much as his feelings.

Picard shook his head.  "Q may be wrong.  Or mistaken.  Trelane...
for a time, I thought he might have been rehabilitated.  That there
was something there worth saving.  Perhaps there might be something
here that I can do.  Or refuse to do.  In any case, I intend to
carry out Q's plan, at least as far as locating this other Q. 
Beyond that, we'll have to see."

Riker nodded, still not entirely satisfied.

"Captain?" Data asked.  "How do you intend to locate this Q?"

"That's a very good question."  Picard looked between them, then
settled his gaze on Data again.  "Q left me without specific
instructions.  I must assume that he believes we can, or should,
locate this Q on our own.  It is certainly consistent with his
usual modus operandi."

Data nodded.  "Have you any clues to go on?"

Picard looked at Troi.  "Do you think you could locate this Q for
us?"

Troi's brows knitted.  "I doubt it, Captain.  There are too many
minds on the planet.  Even if there *were* something I could sense,
I don't think I could pick it out of the surrounding noise.  Not
from the Enterprise."

"And if we could restrict it to a specific part of Earth?" Riker
asked intently.

"Perhaps," Troi said, still uncertain.  "I cannot read Q's
presence.  However, sometimes there *has* been something there that
I *could* sense.  I might be able to, but I can't be sure."

"That's a start, counselor," Picard said.  "Data?  Is there
anything the Enterprise's computers can do?  Perhaps isolate this
Q in some other way."

"I can try, Captain," Data said, voice steady, giving no hint of
the absolute panic a human would have felt if confronted with such
an impossible request.

"Good.  We'll do our best.  And if that doesn't work, I'm sure that
Q will be only too happy to step in and point out where we've gone
wrong."

There were some ironic looks exchanged around the table before
Picard dismissed the meeting.

****

Picard looked over at Troi, who was concentrating intently.

She shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Captain.  It's no use.  There's
*something* here, but I still can't localize it."

"This might not be the right place," Picard said.  Data had located
this building as one of the most likely prospects for Q
inhabitation.  It had belonged to one person and one person only
for its entire, centuries-long, existence.  Since humans didn't
live that long in the twentieth century, Picard had agreed with
Data's assessment.

"No, this is the right place," Troi said.  "I'm certain of that. 
However, I can't seem to..."

A voice interrupted them.  "Shoddy workmanship, that's what it is."

Picard looked resigned, as a tall figure pushed himself out of a
shadow and came over to them.

"It's been over a week," Q complained, "and all you've been able to
do is pick out this warehouse.  I'm ashamed of you, Picard.  And
most especially of your staff."  He looked at Troi.  "Such a *rude*
woman should have no qualms about delving into a problem like this. 
It's a wonder you've managed to stay single this long."

Picard didn't move.  In a tight voice, he said, "There are over
eight billion people on Earth in this time period, Q.  Finding one
of them -- one who doesn't *want* to be found, and indeed, doesn't
even seem to be a person at all, should be more than enough."

Q shrugged.  "I suppose that's true.  Given your limited
capabilities, I should be grateful that I didn't need to draw you
a map to this building."

"I assume now that you're here, you'll offer us some assistance?"
Picard asked.

"Of course not," Q said.  "I'm only here because you have
termites."

"Termites?" Picard asked, puzzled.

"Look what we have here," Q said, almost chortling, as he made the
crates disappear with a wave of his hand, revealing the FBI agents
crouching behind them.  "And you've been so ungrateful.  Just think
what might have happened if I hadn't shown up."

"If not for you," Picard said tightly, "the Enterprise would still
be investigating the cause of the plague on Taunos Six, where it
belongs."

"Details, details."  Q turned his attention to the stunned FBI
agents.  "Now whatever shall I do with you?"

"Q..." Picard said warningly.  "I don't know what's going on here,
but if you reveal anything of our time to them..."

Q rolled his eyes.  "Trust me, Jean-Luc.  I'm ever so much more
subtle than that."

There was no response to the comment, as Q walked towards the two
agents, smiling broadly.

****

Scully and Mulder had been sent out on an almost routine X-File,
something more suited for the local police than anything else. 
Bright lights, strange occurrences, and scattered reports of people
in uniforms disappearing and reappearing.  Even Mulder had not been
able to refute Scully's immediate accusation that the observed
phenomenon was most likely just a problem with the people reporting
it -- in the part of New York City that it had been reported, winos
were far more common than reputable witnesses.

However, it had been a slow week.

They had cautiously approached the building where the sightings had
been reported, neither one quite expecting anything to still be
there, and neither of them willing to take the chance that there
*wasn't* something either.

And they had seen precisely what had been reported -- a party of
two people, appearing from nowhere, both in uniforms from some
unknown organization.  Scully had no explanation for it as of yet,
but that didn't stop her from having her gun drawn nonetheless.

And then the crates that they had been sheltering behind
disappeared, and they were being approached by a third member of
the party, who was smiling at them -- and neither of them could
move a muscle, not even Mulder who was resisting a major urge to
ask Scully what she believed in *now*.

****

Q grinned at them, and snapped his fingers.  "Oh, go ahead and talk
if you must.  It might be amusing to hear you pleading for your
lives."

Mulder tried to straighten up, and found that he still couldn't. 
He could move his head, and that was it.  "We're FBI agents."

"Yes, yes, I know that.  Please, don't mind me.  Go ahead and
grovel at the presence of your gods."

Scully managed an ironic look.  "I wouldn't dream of it.  Who are
you?"

Q considered her for a moment.  "I'm Q.  Now that you're no doubt
entirely enlightened by that piece of information, I'm sure you'll
be spouting off some inane nonsense about what am I doing here, and
so forth."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Mulder said dryly.

"I'm here to see that one of my people is properly murdered.  It's
so depressing when you see them walking around after you've killed
them, don't you think?"

Mulder, who had had some experience to that effect, nodded.  "Yes,
it is."

Picard moved to stand next to Q, strain evident on his face.  "Q,
you can't speak with them.  If they report this..."

Q waved his hand airily.  "Oh, don't worry about that, mon
capitaine.  They *will* report this, I'm quite sure of that. 
However," he pointed at Mulder, "his credibility with his
department is precisely zero.  And," he pointed at Scully, "she
wouldn't believe the Enterprise was anything more than an elaborate
mock-up even if you took her on a tour, much less believe anything
she's seen or heard here."

"Terrorists?"  Scully mouthed the word to Mulder, who arched his
eyebrows in reply.

"Q..." Picard said warningly.  "We can't take chances."

"Oh, very well," Q said petulantly.  He turned back to the agents.

"If you're going to kill us..." Mulder began.

"Oh, I'm not going to do anything petty like that.  Just a
little... *persuasion* to make sure that neither of you ever wants
to talk about this.  Just to make the good captain happy.  You
understand."

"I don't..." Scully began, but Q waved his hand, and they both
disappeared.

He turned back towards Picard.  "Now, do try not to get into any
more trouble while I'm gone.  I can't be running back here every
few minutes to fix your problems, you know."

Picard stared after him as Q disappeared in a flash of light. 
"How... helpful."

"Captain?" Troi asked.

Picard turned towards her, almost having forgotten about her in the
ruckus with the two agents.  "Yes, counselor?"

"I... I think I know what this Q is... the entity that Q was
looking for."

"What is it, counselor?"

Her expression was guarded.  "I don't want to discuss it here."

Picard nodded, although he didn't understand her motives.  Yet. 
"Enterprise.  Two to beam up."

****

Troi gestured at the display.  "As you can see, that is a picture
of the building we investigated.  While I was there with the
captain, I felt nothing.  Until Q appeared.  It was as though his
presence... *distracted* whatever other presence was there long
enough for me to read it."

"What was it, Deanna?" Riker asked, leaning forward.

She shuddered involuntarily.  "It was a feeling of evil. 
Concentrated evil.  I'm not certain why I didn't notice it before. 
As soon as I recognized its presence, I was unable to *not* notice
it.  The entire building was permeated with it."

"Had this Q been living there for a long while then?" Picard asked,
looking between Troi and Data.

"The ownership records on the building last to just after the
founding of the city," Data said.  "I presume the occupant had
lived there for that time."

Troi shook her head.  "That wasn't it."  She looked at the captain. 
"I don't know if you can understand... it was only a feeling, not
anything I can substantiate, but it was as if the *presence* were
the entire building.  As though the Q had made itself into the
building."

"And the reason you didn't notice it before was that you were
missing the forest for the trees," Riker said softly, looking at
Troi.

She nodded.  "I agree."

Picard tried not to look at the ceiling.  "How do you kill a
building?"

"We could use the ship's phasers," LaForge offered.  "We can target
a specific building from orbit.  I can't guarantee what the damage
would be to the surrounding area, but the building would be
destroyed."

The captain shook his head.  "No.  I don't want to endanger any
innocent lives.  If Q wants this game played, we'll do it my way. 
Geordi, what limits do the ship's transporters have?"

"In mass, sir?"

"Exactly."

****

Scully shook her head ruefully, feeling the cotton inside.  She
never got drunk, but she must have the night before.  Her head felt
like it.

She reached over to hit her alarm clock, not bothering to open her
eyes.  It'd go off any minute now, if she hadn't already been
hitting the snooze button in her sleep.

Her hand encountered warm, bare skin instead of her clock, and
Scully's eyes snapped open in surprise.

Lying next to her in bed -- her bed -- was Mulder.  Apparently
naked.  Scully realized with a sudden flush that she was as well. 
What had happened the night before?  She didn't remember going to
bed.  Certainly didn't remember going to bed with *Mulder*.

Which was a pity, really, because it was certainly something she
would have wanted to remember.

Scully stuffed that thought down as far as it would go, and then
reached out to shake her partner.  "Mulder, wake up."

"Go away, Scully," Mulder said, not opening his eyes.

"*Mulder*," Scully said, more urgently this time.

Grudgingly, he looked up at her.  She was holding the blanket up
almost to her shoulders, half bent over him in the bed.  For a
moment, he was sure he was dreaming.  Any minute now, she'd turn
into a snake and bite him, or the roof would fall in, or...

"*Mulder*!" Scully repeated, then checked his pupils.  He looked
dazed.  Had they been drugged?

"You know, that's not the most romantic thing to do after you've
just spent the night with someone, Scully," Mulder observed.  "Most
women just settle for staring deeply into men's eyes."

She frowned at him.  "What do you remember about last night?  Do
you know what we're doing here?"

He gave a small half-grin.  "Seems pretty obvious."  Before she
could hit him with the pillow, he added, "I don't know, Scully.  I
don't remember anything after we got handed the file on the New
York building."

Scully sat up straighter, still clutching onto the blanket.  "The
building.  I..." she bent over, holding her head.  "*Oh*..."  She
sighed with impatience.  "There's something... I just can't
remember what it is.  Something about that building.  We went
there."

"Are you sure?" Mulder asked, teasing her.  It wasn't often she
believed in something, and it was worth the amusement it generated. 
"We got the case just after four p.m., and it looks like we spent
most of the night here.  I don't think we had time to do much
outside investigation."

She glared at him.  "That isn't funny, Mulder."

"Funny is in the eye of the beholder."  He looked at her for a
moment.  "If you want to get out of bed, I promise I won't look."

If he'd been smirking, she really would have hit him with the
pillow.  But he wasn't, and so as soon as his eyes were closed, she
got out of bed, grabbed a clean set of clothes, and made as
dignified an escape as she possibly could.

When she came out of the bathroom, showered, changed, and much less
flustered, Mulder was sitting in her kitchen, eating the
strawberries she'd been saving for dessert.

Before she could scold him, he spoke.  "We only lost one day,
Scully.  That... whatever it was... happened last night.  I made
some calls.  That building we were supposed to investigate?  It
isn't there anymore."

"Isn't there?"  She couldn't quite get a grasp on that.  "Was it
demolished?"

Mulder shook his head.  "No.  There's nothing there at all.  The
officer I spoke to said that it looked like the building had been
simply picked up and moved..."

"Who would do something like that?"

"*Except*," Mulder continued, "everything was gone.  No plumbing
connections, no foundation, *nothing* was left behind."

"That seems unusual."

He nodded.  "*And* there was a sudden flare of sunspot activity
late last night."

She looked at him for a long moment.  "You don't seriously mean me
to believe that the building was picked up and thrown into the sun,
do you?  That's really incredible, even for you, Mulder."

He grinned at her.  "The sunspot activity was the next case file. 
I don't know what you're talking about.  Buildings being thrown
into the sun?  Really, Scully.  I think you need to talk to a
psychiatrist about these wild ideas of yours."

She frowned at him, but since he hadn't mentioned anything about
how they'd woken up together, decided to forgive him for the moment
and have breakfast.


-the end-