The door slammed shut; the backpack dropped with an apathetic "clunk" to the floor; the tired, dirty, and all-thought-out body flounced onto the couch. Remote found. TV on. Dayum it!
The cable company would pick today to be fixing the cable, huh? Only the worst day of her life and nary a single insipid program to console her! She nearly got up the energy to turn off the TV when a man appeared on the screen.
"We are terribly, terribly sorry for any inconvenience this interruption might have caused... only we are about to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime!"
"Sure you are," Jenn spat sarcastically at the TV. "Why don't you get a haircut, freakman?"
"I beg your pardon, a haircut?"
Jenn froze. Ut ooooooh. The man on the TV just talked back. Why? People on the TV aren't supposed to talk back! Was all the X-Filesque paranoia justified? Were there really wiretaps and video cameras in her house? Sitting up rigidly, she flattened herself against the back of the couch. She opened her mouth dumbly, licked her lips, and opened her mouth again. No matter how hard she tried, no sound would come out.
"Yes, I'm real," the man continued, stepping out of the TV and onto the living room floor, full-sized. "Well, nearly real. As real as a holoprojection can be considered."
Jenn blinked, rubbing her eyes. It had to be a dream; it had to be some kind of weird trick. Maybe it was just a distraction while the rest of the guy's group slipped unnoticed into her house to steal her computer, her TV, her dog...
"Kosho?" Jenn called shakily, eyes fixed unmovingly on the intruder. The black labrador sauntered over amiably, teeth delicately fixed around her bowl, obviously oblivious to the intruder.
"Dogs can't see color, you know. That would make me... oh, the equivalent of a cloud of dust in your dear doggie's eyes there."
Something in the holo-man's tone
made her instinctively cling to the dog, something nasty and cruel and...
Wicked Witch of the Westish. And your little dog, too!
"Why are you here?" Jenn asked quietly, eyes narrowing. "If you want my TV, fine, take it, but just go and leave us alone."
The man laughed. "You really -are- a primitive life form, just like they say! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Isn't it clear I don't want your TV, or even your canine friend, there? I want you."
Not knowing whether to feel disgusted or flattered, she faltered bravely as she asked, "What for?"
"As I mentioned before, I want to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime." A hint of impatience?
"Oh. Well, I don't want it. You can just go and offer it to someone else. I wouldn't deserve it anyway."
"Would it make any difference if I told you that your friends Kat and Wendy have already accepted my generous offer?"
Jenn stopped and froze. What? Kat and Wendy? How did he know about them? "Okay, talk."
The man chuckled, knowing that the ploy would work perfectly. Of course, telling a little fib never hurt anybody. He hadn't breathed a word of this to either friend...yet. It would all be true eventually, when you worked it out in the space-time continuum. "Perhaps you have heard of me. I am a Q, certainly not a species from this planet... good gracious no. I have come to offer you - and your little friends - a tour of Q...of our people, culture, and--" he paused to chuckle, "--our geography. You're a child of travel; your relatives were travelers themselves; don't try to tell me you've never wanted to go anywhere else. You've been wanting an adventure ever since you realized you had to grow up. You can't keep reading Madeline L'Engle and Philip Pullman for the rest of your life! Go out and - live - the adventure!"
Face flashing with anger and embarrassment, sadness and violation, each in its turn, she clenched her teeth as she muttered "How do you know all this?"
Chuckling that cruel chuckle, he let out a sigh. "What, afraid I've been reading your journal? No, no of course not. I've not once violated your privacy. You, however, are easy to read...probably easier than your nonsensical journal."
Sighing resignedly, Jenn smirked a minute smirk. The tension and anger visibly drained from her face. "This isn't exactly what I pictured when I thought I'd have an adventure. For one, you...are certainly not the kind messenger I'd visualized--"
"Oh, oh, oh, so I need to be an angel now? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, young lady! Now, go freshen yourself up while I pick up the other two humans," the Q quipped, turning and fading quickly.
"Wait!" Jenn shouted. "Come back!"
"Ye-es?" he queried nasally, sounding a trifle miffed as he (well, his holo-projection) reappeared.
"What's your name, anyway?"
"Well..." he began, grinning an evil grin, "Perhaps *you* would like to call me Q-PD..."
"Now that is *truly* not funny!" Jenn flew at him in anger, her hand sinking through midair where it should have met with flesh.
The man laughed, truly amused. "Very well then. Would you object so strongly to calling me Queeevil Salmon?"
Wrinkling her nose, Jenn asked, "Must you steal all my creative in-jokes? Can't you even come up with your own name? But ye-es, I suppose Queevil will do."
"Don't be long, now. I will return in precisely one Earth half-hour. Not that time is relevant...or even accurate." Queevil stopped to smirk before turning and dematerializing. This had gone impossibly well. In her awe and wonder, this first earthling hadn't even bothered to ask why the Qs had taken such a sudden interest in three unimportant teenagers from the year 2000....
Jenn sat on the couch for a while, unsure of what to do next. She had showered, because she didn't know how long it would be before she could shower again. She had changed clothes into what she hoped would be appropriate for space travel. It wasn't like she kept space suits hanging around in her closet, after all. She made sure her journal was hidden before throwing a change of clothes, a notebook, a pen, some soap, and her book into her backpack. She paused before taking the family picture out of the picture frame from atop the piano.