Barclay got up what he assumed to be several hours later; it was hard to tell though. He wandered downstairs, and saw Q stretched out on the couch reading Shakespeare, Hamlet to be precise. Barclay wondered if he'd taken a leaf out of the captain's book, or vise versa. Q looked up to him and smiled almost truthfully. "Feeling better?"
Barclay sighed. "Do I look as though I am?" He walked into the kitchen, feeling hungry, but not really planning to eat.
"Not really." Q appeared in the archway. "Though I'm not surprised. Humans do tend to take things at face value."
Barclay glared at Q, surprised. "How else should I take things?"
"Well, you could realize it's supposed to be funny." Q said mildly, waving a hand in the air.
Barclay growled, furrowing his brow, "It's not funny to mess with people's emotions, Q. Especially when they try to help you!"
"Pft, please, you're just trying to help yourself get out of this mess!" Q said angrily.
"Yeah? SO!? You are too! You just want to pretend to understand humans so you can go back to your stupid, stupid existence!"
Q growled, taking, what was for him, a menacing step forward. "At least I'm not some stupid cry baby who can't do anything without help from the Captain, or LaForge."
"I don't need help for everything!" Barclay half whined, leaning back away from Q.
"Oh please, I read your diary, stupid; you admitted to yourself you need help for everything." Q glared some more, taking another step closer, raising his arms.
Barclay realized that this was not going to end well for him, so he did the only thing he remembered from self defense training. He kicked Q in the head.
Q crashed to the floor, yelling. He landed in a crumpled heap. "You kicked me!!! You pathetic Piece of Protoplasm! You kicked me!" He pulled a hand away from his head; a small trickle of blood fell over his eyebrow and dripped unceremoniously on the floor. Q stared at Barclay with a stupefied expression, then at the floor for several seconds before turning back to Barclay. "I don't believe it…" He glanced at Barclay, who was unsuccessfully trying to contain his laughter.
"Pathetic piece of protoplasm?" Barclay laughed, "What?"
"How can you laugh? You just kicked me!" Q looked at him as though he had grown a second head, out of his ear, wanting to scream, so he did. "Speaking of which, WHY DID YOU KICK ME IN THE HEAD!!!!!" He stared at Barclay as a thin trail of blood slid down from his hairline and dripped off his nose.
Barclay laughed again. "I have no idea!" he said joyously. "I didn't think you'd fall over like that, though." He laughed again, quietly, "Protoplasm, Ha!"
Q looked at Barclay, astounded, "Are you okay?" he said, getting up from the floor and wiping the blood from his head, looking disgustedly at it.
Barclay continued to laugh, "I have no clue! HA!" He clutched his stomach, laughing again, "It's not even funny! HAHA!" He practically doubled over with laughter. "Protoplasm! BUhahHA!" he laughed again, loudly. "Can't… Heheh, stop laughing, HAHAHAHA!" He snickered, "Pathetic… Protoplasm, Meha, HAH!"
Q looked at Barclay oddly, shaking his head; he reached over and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. "Okay, let's hope this works." He wiped the blood from his head with the back of his hand, looking at Barclay with another odd look.
"Works! WAHAHAH!" Barclay snorted, and laughed again.
Q shook his head and tossed the cold water on Barclay's face. Barclay immediately looked up, his face dripping with water. "Q!"
"What?" said Q, annoyed.
"Why did you do that?" Barclay wiped the water from his face.
"Why did you kick me in the head?"
"I didn't- Oh my god! Your head is bleeding!"
Q gaped at Barclay, "Yes, because you kicked me." He touched the wound again, surprised that it didn't hurt much at all.
"What? Uh, just stay there." He dashed into the other room and down the stairs, appearing a moment later with a first aid kit. "I got you covered, Q." He pushed Q into one of the nearby plaid, leather seats, and pulled out a band aid and some antiseptic. "Hold still." He applied the antiseptic carefully to the cut.
Q stared at him, leaning against the metal wood inlay counter, "Don't you remember?"
Barclay shook his head, pulling the huge band aid from its wrapper, "No, what?"
"You kicked me! You made my head bleed!" He pointed to the blood on his shirt.
Barclay slapped the band aid on Q's forehead, "Did not, I think I would remember that. How did you really get cut?" He eyed Q accusingly.
Q just shook his head. "Never mind Barclay, just never mind." He sighed and stood.
They exchanged an odd look and Q turned and walked out the archway door. He turned at the last minute, "Good night Barclay." He said mildly, and walked away.
Barclay turned and slumped against the counter, yawning. "That was awfully weird…. And I can't remember what happened for a while there, I really might have kicked him in the head, but why would I do that?" He shrugged. "This is perhaps the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. But... maybe my whole life falls under the category of 'weird.'" He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, wondering briefly where the lighting came from. He sighed nostalgically. "In fact, I'd have to say my life has been…" He glanced around briefly. "Funk-Delic!"
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Authors note: I swear I wrote this whole story just so I could have Q say 'Pathetic Piece of Protoplasm', BTW, I have a plan for the plot!!