Disclaimer: Same as before. Now for the next chapter!! Many thanks to my
boyfriend for being a wonderful help (and patient too-he didn't tell me to
shut up. he's so nice. )
Note: Any words in are in Vulcan. Words in ^^ are in Betazoid. Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Revelations from Q.
T'Maeve sat down by her bags and sighed. Wonderful. I am in the world I love to dream about. But I can't do a damn thing, because it will disrupt the Prime Directive! And if I hide out, since I'm most likely not going home any time soon, I could either fall into the torture chamber, or be strangled by Erik's Punjab lasso. Both ideas are not good, or comfortable. And I have no idea how to get home,. wait a minute.
T'Maeve stood up and whispered. "Q? Some help here please. it would be welcomed." Nothing. She sighed. Well, I tried. Didn't expect much.
A flash nearly blinded her, and her third eye* slid down to protect her eyes. The flash faded, and there stood Q, in command red as usual. "Ah, my dear T'Maeve. What do you think of my gift to you?"
T'Maeve blinked. "Gift? Bringing me here is a gift? I love that I am here for real, but you of all people should know the Prime Directive-"
"Ah, that silly thing. My dear, you have no reason to worry about it. You see, this is not the same universe where you are from. Starfleet will never exist in this universe. The Prime Directive has no meaning here."
She raised her eyebrow. "Really? You brought me here as a gift, and have made it so that I can interact without breaking the Prime Directive? Why?"
Q smiled. "For all you did for me when I lost my Q powers. I repaid your dear brother, but I never got the idea for this gift to repay you for all of your kindness until now. I do regret the lateness of the gift."
T'Maeve laughed. "Q, no worries! I'm just flattered. I know Jean-Luc would be wondering of an ulterior motive, or if this is a simple game to amuse yourself. But I have come to know you. In this, I feel no lies, just honest desire to give me a gift. And besides, I will always help you when you need it. Despite being an all-powerful being, you still are alone at times. And you know as well as I do how it is to be alone."
Q's eyes lowered. "That I do. Well, if all goes according to plan, and Amanda is successful, you shall not be alone ever again. Well, until his Human lifespan runs out. But by then, you'll have a child to remind you of him."
"Amanda? She helped in this?" T'Maeve grinned. "I thank her too. But I don't know about love Q. After that pitiful excuse for a I don't know if I can love again." She knew full well who 'he' was, that Q was talking about. Again, she thought she might not be ready for love, despite having been divorced for over 60 years. Her eyes lowered, remembering how much she was hurt, knowing that due to her lack of being full-blooded Vulcan, her husband was planning to have her killed. She shuddered. And to think, we Vulcan's created IDIC. And some of us can't even live by it in any way. It's so stupid.
"Yes, I agree," Q commented, as he heard her thoughts. He shook his head. "I am glad that man is no longer alive. I can do with him as I please now that he's dead."
T'Maeve looked at him. "What's this, Q going soft?" She grinned, and Q knew she was teasing him. He thought he should be angry, but wasn't. After all, she was like this all the time, and he rather enjoyed verbally sparring with her. She'll disarm even the great Phantom himself with that personality. Amanda was right indeed, saying they are meant for each other. Q glared at T'Maeve, but she just laughed. "Don't give me that look, Q. I know you too well. It doesn't work." She paused and grew thoughtful. "OK, so I can do as I please. But what about my dress? What shall I do here, and while your 'gift' unfolds? I have a feeling it may take some time to see if your gift, and Amanda's as well, will bear fruit."
"At least you're thinking about it. That's a start. Well, how about being a dancer? They are looking for new people. And that silly man the Vicomte de Chagny hasn't been to the Opera yet. So you have a chance my dear. I feel 'he' will be watching. But as for clothes,.." Q snapped his fingers and T'Maeve stood in a dark blue 1880's dress, complete with corset and bustle in the back. It had a high neck, and it was made of rather good quality of material, but simple in design. She looked at herself, and grinned.
"I always did enjoy wearing these dresses. Can't wear them on Vulcan, but that is alright." She picked up her bags (which now looked period and were filled with other dresses like the one she wore) and looked back at Q. "Auditions, you say? Hm. I have an idea. But where shall I stay? Here in the Opera, or in a flat nearby, like in my holodeck re-creations?"
Q thought a moment, and snapped his fingers. "A flat awaits you this evening, my dear. Rent paid already. And you have some money with you in that bag that I placed there. Will that do for your ruse?"
"Perfectly. Now, which way out, so as to not look conspicuous?" She raised her eyebrow, and felt for her ears, seeing they were now hidden by her hair.
"This way, I believe. And my dear, go break a leg."
T'Maeve laughed. "Ha, ha, Q. Very funny. I'm just glad I took time to learn French. I think the Universal Translator would sound odd to this time period." As she said this, she tucked away the communicator and her tricorder where they wouldn't be seen.
"Now that's settled. As I said, this is a gift for you. I don't usually act like this, but unlike Jean-Luc you aren't thinking I'm doing this for my own amusement. Do call for me if you really need it. But you look like you'll do just fine."
"I think I will, Q. Thank you again. And I will do my best. You just sit back, and enjoy the show. And I'll see about thawing out my heart again." She laughed, and realized that she was serious. She would give this opportunity a shot. Besides, it wasn't everyday someone like her got to perform like this. She never really could on Vulcan, as it was too emotional of someone related to the great Surak (and subsequently Sarak) to act like that in public. This was better then any holodeck program, though she made a mental note to go over this place with her tricorder, to see of the historians got the specs right.
"I think you shall have no regrets. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a certain captain who would like to know where you have gone." With that Q disappeared, and T'Maeve was soon standing outside in the Paris sun. The door to the opera house stood in front of her. She took a deep breath, and walked in.
With thanks to Q (giving her papers to prove her false identity and training), she was walking away from the manager's office an hour later. T'Maeve (known as Maeve Evans for her part in this period) walked towards Mme. Giry to ask her where a dressing room was, so she could change and be ready for her audition. The woman took a look at her and the way she walked, and her eyes lit up. "I think you shall be one of the best dancers I have had the chance to teach," she whispered to Maeve as they walked down the hall. As luck would have it, Maeve's room was next to Christine's, where she saw the girl run out in a hurry to be ready for practice. Maeve looked the girl over briefly, and shook her head.
The girl is just a child. I can see why in the story she runs off with Raoul, after all Erik gives her. Though she would be a child. I am older then anyone here, being 86. After getting settled, Maeve ran to the stage, and awaited her turn to perform. The other girls looked at her wondering who she was, and Maeve smiled at them trying to make them be comfortable. She was not that comfortable herself, having been stared at a good deal in her life. Then Mme. Giry was calling to her. "Now, try this piece." The dance in question was for a gala to be performed in only 9 days (the same one where Christine 'comes out of the closet' as it were and Raoul sees her, Maeve realized), and she remembered doing this piece on the holodeck. She moved her way through the piece; with a grace even she was a bit surprised of, and feeling the music fill her in a way it never had before. She was flying, and she put her heart into the dance, letting herself go and forgetting all sense of Vulcan decorum. At the end of it, Mme. Giry was beaming. "I was right! A wonderful dancer! Now, come here and I shall go over with you the rest of this performance."
So began Maeve's first day in Paris, 1881. And by the end of the day, her feet hurt. But as Maeve went to the flat Q was so nice to provide, she was glad that this chance had come. Usually she would have asked to go back to her time, but something told her to stay. And she never knew her gut instincts to be wrong before, so why not now?
As she curled up on a chair by the fire, she took out her portable computer (making sure her violin was safe in its box), and began her personal log.
Erik was in his Box, watching the dancers practicing for the upcoming gala. Feeling bored, he had wandered back up to his box, trying to think of ways to scare the managers into realizing he meant business. He watched as a new girl walked out on stage, with a grace he had never seen before. She obviously had just been hired, as he had never seen her before. So, a new dancer for the corps du ballet. She seems to hold promise. He watched Maeve go though the dance, and was a bit surprised that she knew the moves so well, as if she had done it before. But he could never recall seeing her perform anywhere in Paris, or had even heard of her. So where had she learned to dance like that, and be as graceful as he was in her movements?
As the girl moved off to her dressing room at the end of the day, he followed through the tunnels in the walls. He realized her room was near his beloved Christine's. Looking through the mirror he watched as she dressed behind a screen, singing with a voice almost better then Christine's. She sings! And with such a wonderful voice! Who is this girl, who sings like this? She finished preparing herself in the mirror a few minutes later, and he thought he caught a sight of a pointed ear before she set her hair around her head. Pointed ears? Was that what I saw? It was so quick. She left soon afterwards, still singing, and he was sorely tempted to follow. But he did not, but rather decided to watch her again tomorrow. He had to find out more about this woman! He retreated into his home across the lake, and sat at this desk. Feeling compelled, he began to write.
Whew!! OK, two chapters in one day. Possible chapter three tonight, but most likely not. Again, thanks to my boyfriend for his proofreading. Please read and review!
* For those not familiar with Vulcan physiology, they have a third eyelid that protects from certain wavelengths of light.
Continued in Chapter 3- - Observations, Discoveries, and More Questions
Note: Any words in are in Vulcan. Words in ^^ are in Betazoid. Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Revelations from Q.
T'Maeve sat down by her bags and sighed. Wonderful. I am in the world I love to dream about. But I can't do a damn thing, because it will disrupt the Prime Directive! And if I hide out, since I'm most likely not going home any time soon, I could either fall into the torture chamber, or be strangled by Erik's Punjab lasso. Both ideas are not good, or comfortable. And I have no idea how to get home,. wait a minute.
T'Maeve stood up and whispered. "Q? Some help here please. it would be welcomed." Nothing. She sighed. Well, I tried. Didn't expect much.
A flash nearly blinded her, and her third eye* slid down to protect her eyes. The flash faded, and there stood Q, in command red as usual. "Ah, my dear T'Maeve. What do you think of my gift to you?"
T'Maeve blinked. "Gift? Bringing me here is a gift? I love that I am here for real, but you of all people should know the Prime Directive-"
"Ah, that silly thing. My dear, you have no reason to worry about it. You see, this is not the same universe where you are from. Starfleet will never exist in this universe. The Prime Directive has no meaning here."
She raised her eyebrow. "Really? You brought me here as a gift, and have made it so that I can interact without breaking the Prime Directive? Why?"
Q smiled. "For all you did for me when I lost my Q powers. I repaid your dear brother, but I never got the idea for this gift to repay you for all of your kindness until now. I do regret the lateness of the gift."
T'Maeve laughed. "Q, no worries! I'm just flattered. I know Jean-Luc would be wondering of an ulterior motive, or if this is a simple game to amuse yourself. But I have come to know you. In this, I feel no lies, just honest desire to give me a gift. And besides, I will always help you when you need it. Despite being an all-powerful being, you still are alone at times. And you know as well as I do how it is to be alone."
Q's eyes lowered. "That I do. Well, if all goes according to plan, and Amanda is successful, you shall not be alone ever again. Well, until his Human lifespan runs out. But by then, you'll have a child to remind you of him."
"Amanda? She helped in this?" T'Maeve grinned. "I thank her too. But I don't know about love Q. After that pitiful excuse for a I don't know if I can love again." She knew full well who 'he' was, that Q was talking about. Again, she thought she might not be ready for love, despite having been divorced for over 60 years. Her eyes lowered, remembering how much she was hurt, knowing that due to her lack of being full-blooded Vulcan, her husband was planning to have her killed. She shuddered. And to think, we Vulcan's created IDIC. And some of us can't even live by it in any way. It's so stupid.
"Yes, I agree," Q commented, as he heard her thoughts. He shook his head. "I am glad that man is no longer alive. I can do with him as I please now that he's dead."
T'Maeve looked at him. "What's this, Q going soft?" She grinned, and Q knew she was teasing him. He thought he should be angry, but wasn't. After all, she was like this all the time, and he rather enjoyed verbally sparring with her. She'll disarm even the great Phantom himself with that personality. Amanda was right indeed, saying they are meant for each other. Q glared at T'Maeve, but she just laughed. "Don't give me that look, Q. I know you too well. It doesn't work." She paused and grew thoughtful. "OK, so I can do as I please. But what about my dress? What shall I do here, and while your 'gift' unfolds? I have a feeling it may take some time to see if your gift, and Amanda's as well, will bear fruit."
"At least you're thinking about it. That's a start. Well, how about being a dancer? They are looking for new people. And that silly man the Vicomte de Chagny hasn't been to the Opera yet. So you have a chance my dear. I feel 'he' will be watching. But as for clothes,.." Q snapped his fingers and T'Maeve stood in a dark blue 1880's dress, complete with corset and bustle in the back. It had a high neck, and it was made of rather good quality of material, but simple in design. She looked at herself, and grinned.
"I always did enjoy wearing these dresses. Can't wear them on Vulcan, but that is alright." She picked up her bags (which now looked period and were filled with other dresses like the one she wore) and looked back at Q. "Auditions, you say? Hm. I have an idea. But where shall I stay? Here in the Opera, or in a flat nearby, like in my holodeck re-creations?"
Q thought a moment, and snapped his fingers. "A flat awaits you this evening, my dear. Rent paid already. And you have some money with you in that bag that I placed there. Will that do for your ruse?"
"Perfectly. Now, which way out, so as to not look conspicuous?" She raised her eyebrow, and felt for her ears, seeing they were now hidden by her hair.
"This way, I believe. And my dear, go break a leg."
T'Maeve laughed. "Ha, ha, Q. Very funny. I'm just glad I took time to learn French. I think the Universal Translator would sound odd to this time period." As she said this, she tucked away the communicator and her tricorder where they wouldn't be seen.
"Now that's settled. As I said, this is a gift for you. I don't usually act like this, but unlike Jean-Luc you aren't thinking I'm doing this for my own amusement. Do call for me if you really need it. But you look like you'll do just fine."
"I think I will, Q. Thank you again. And I will do my best. You just sit back, and enjoy the show. And I'll see about thawing out my heart again." She laughed, and realized that she was serious. She would give this opportunity a shot. Besides, it wasn't everyday someone like her got to perform like this. She never really could on Vulcan, as it was too emotional of someone related to the great Surak (and subsequently Sarak) to act like that in public. This was better then any holodeck program, though she made a mental note to go over this place with her tricorder, to see of the historians got the specs right.
"I think you shall have no regrets. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a certain captain who would like to know where you have gone." With that Q disappeared, and T'Maeve was soon standing outside in the Paris sun. The door to the opera house stood in front of her. She took a deep breath, and walked in.
With thanks to Q (giving her papers to prove her false identity and training), she was walking away from the manager's office an hour later. T'Maeve (known as Maeve Evans for her part in this period) walked towards Mme. Giry to ask her where a dressing room was, so she could change and be ready for her audition. The woman took a look at her and the way she walked, and her eyes lit up. "I think you shall be one of the best dancers I have had the chance to teach," she whispered to Maeve as they walked down the hall. As luck would have it, Maeve's room was next to Christine's, where she saw the girl run out in a hurry to be ready for practice. Maeve looked the girl over briefly, and shook her head.
The girl is just a child. I can see why in the story she runs off with Raoul, after all Erik gives her. Though she would be a child. I am older then anyone here, being 86. After getting settled, Maeve ran to the stage, and awaited her turn to perform. The other girls looked at her wondering who she was, and Maeve smiled at them trying to make them be comfortable. She was not that comfortable herself, having been stared at a good deal in her life. Then Mme. Giry was calling to her. "Now, try this piece." The dance in question was for a gala to be performed in only 9 days (the same one where Christine 'comes out of the closet' as it were and Raoul sees her, Maeve realized), and she remembered doing this piece on the holodeck. She moved her way through the piece; with a grace even she was a bit surprised of, and feeling the music fill her in a way it never had before. She was flying, and she put her heart into the dance, letting herself go and forgetting all sense of Vulcan decorum. At the end of it, Mme. Giry was beaming. "I was right! A wonderful dancer! Now, come here and I shall go over with you the rest of this performance."
So began Maeve's first day in Paris, 1881. And by the end of the day, her feet hurt. But as Maeve went to the flat Q was so nice to provide, she was glad that this chance had come. Usually she would have asked to go back to her time, but something told her to stay. And she never knew her gut instincts to be wrong before, so why not now?
As she curled up on a chair by the fire, she took out her portable computer (making sure her violin was safe in its box), and began her personal log.
Erik was in his Box, watching the dancers practicing for the upcoming gala. Feeling bored, he had wandered back up to his box, trying to think of ways to scare the managers into realizing he meant business. He watched as a new girl walked out on stage, with a grace he had never seen before. She obviously had just been hired, as he had never seen her before. So, a new dancer for the corps du ballet. She seems to hold promise. He watched Maeve go though the dance, and was a bit surprised that she knew the moves so well, as if she had done it before. But he could never recall seeing her perform anywhere in Paris, or had even heard of her. So where had she learned to dance like that, and be as graceful as he was in her movements?
As the girl moved off to her dressing room at the end of the day, he followed through the tunnels in the walls. He realized her room was near his beloved Christine's. Looking through the mirror he watched as she dressed behind a screen, singing with a voice almost better then Christine's. She sings! And with such a wonderful voice! Who is this girl, who sings like this? She finished preparing herself in the mirror a few minutes later, and he thought he caught a sight of a pointed ear before she set her hair around her head. Pointed ears? Was that what I saw? It was so quick. She left soon afterwards, still singing, and he was sorely tempted to follow. But he did not, but rather decided to watch her again tomorrow. He had to find out more about this woman! He retreated into his home across the lake, and sat at this desk. Feeling compelled, he began to write.
Whew!! OK, two chapters in one day. Possible chapter three tonight, but most likely not. Again, thanks to my boyfriend for his proofreading. Please read and review!
* For those not familiar with Vulcan physiology, they have a third eyelid that protects from certain wavelengths of light.
Continued in Chapter 3- - Observations, Discoveries, and More Questions