MARY-Q
by ardavenport
Jean-Luc Picard pulled the blankets up, covering himself and the woman next to him. She appeared to be asleep, on her side, her fleshy torso and thighs pressed warmly to his side. He let his hand lightly caress her ample breast, but she did nOt stir. A flash of silent lightning outside briefly illuminated her short gray hair. A storm was moving in.
He sank back into the soft pillows. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
He really had nOt expected a liason that evening. The after-dinner conversation had gone on long after Counsellor Troi had retired back to the ship and the other scientists had gone to bed. Late as it was, when Dr. Gelmen...Helen, the Survey Team's sole achaeologist, had offered to show him some of her findings in her quarters, it still had not occurred to him that anything more than intellectual stimulation would come of it. She'd first kissed him over a 4000 year-old recording device.
The wind picked up outside, whipping the ropy 'leaves' of the alien shrubbery against the stone buildings the Survey Team occupied. Jean-Luc drowsily contemplated getting up and saying his good-byes to Helen. But he felt strongly unmotivated to do so.
He would be missed back on the Enterprise. Eyebrows would be raised when he returned in the morning. His crew would wonder. But his demands for privacy were well known; none of them would dare say anything about it.
***ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo***
Rain pelted the plasti-glass skylight overhead. The woman opened her eyes. Picard lay there barely visible in the gloom, asleep with a small, faintly insipid, contented smile on his face.
It hadn't been all that fun, after all.
The reason was obvious. He hadn't known.
Nine whole seconds had been devoted to the calculation of just the right scenario that would draw out his weaknesses. It had been childishly easy to take the place of the real Dr. Gelmen and lure Picard into the trap. That by itself was disappointing.
It might have been more satisfying seducing him in his quarters on his own ship, but he was virtually unassailable in his own domain. And the creature who called herself Guinan could have gotten wind of it and interfered. The confrontation alone would have spoiled the game.
Regretting the blissful ignorance he had so generously and foolishly allowed his adversary, Q brought up the lights and gazed down at his prey.
Determined to re-gain some of the satisfaction lost, he briefly considered changing back to the form that Picard was most familiar with before waking him up. But it would be much more amusing to see his face as he watched the woman in his bed slowly transform. He would probably abstain for the rest of his life.
Q gently stroked the crown of Picard's head, "Jean-Luc..."
*** END ***
Note: This story was written by me and first printed (under the name 'Anne Davenport') in a fanzine back in the hard-copy and snail-mail days in the 1990's – regrettably my record-keeping wasn't as good as I thought as it was, so I don't have the name of the zine right now.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to Paramount; I'm just playing in that sandbox.