Disclaimer: Okay, don't own. God this gets annoying....
A/N: Thank you for the good reviews. This fic is rapidly coming to an end, unfortunately. I had fun writing this. Thank you for your support, and, in case you are wondering, no, this is not that last chapter, but the last will be coming up in 4 or 5 more chapters, tops. And Marie Sheppard, I will try to fit in one or two more half-naked Icheb scenes. I am NOT putting in a full naked scene, this fic is rated pg for a reason. If you want that, I'm posting a Q2/Icheb songfic. It's entitled 'Iris', if you're into that kind of thing.
Benlet tugged gently on Icheb's arm, guiding the Brunali to a separate part of the quarters. They stood near the corner of the living room, as Benlet began to speak in a hushed tone.
"Okay, there are some things I got to talk to you about."
"Such as?" Icheb asked calmly, as he motioned for Benlet to sit in one of the chairs. Once the Bajoran was seated, he took a seat himself.
"Student-teacher relationships." Benlet said, watching for Icheb's reaction. The former Borg raised his right eyebrow in a way so like Captain Spock that Benlet was sure he had practiced it.
"I assure you, the rumors concerning me and Professor O'Brien are completely unfounded." Icheb remarked, his voice utterly calm, and serious.
"What? I didn't mean – When did that happen?" Benlet finally sputtered the question out, shocked about rumors that he had not known were being spread, and wouldn't, at any other time, really want to know about.
"They began a few months ago, and were saying that the Professor and I were romantically involved." How could Icheb be so calm about this? Benlet wondered, listening in dumbfounded silence. "I was merely helping him with his model of the Enterprise. Really, the rumors are rather ridiculous. Professor O'Brien is happily married with two children, and my interests do not turn towards men."
Icheb noted the look of shock and horror on Benlet's face with mild amusement. "Riiight," the Bajoran said, before seeming to regain his lost composure. "Well, that wasn't what I meant. I was talking about you and Frances."
"Oh."
Q2 pulled out what looked like a twentieth century Gameboy. "Time for the Q- Net Server..." he muttered to the rest of the universe, absolutely sure in his conviction that the rest of said universe cared.
"Search: Frances Henry. Age:" Q had to pause for a second. How old was Frances? And how old had she been? Q decided that a guess was better than nothing, and pulled a number at random. "Six." A few small pictures showed Frances running around wearing a cute, puffy dress, and leaping into her father's lap.
"Wait a Earth minute." Q snapped his fingers, and felt a sharp sting on his forehead - why hit your forehead when you can have a custom made, disposable, disembodied hand do it for you? "Okay, go away now." He said irritably rubbing the offended area. "Mortals can't even be accepted into Starfleet until they're eighteen... I'd better start there. Search: Frances Henry. Age: Eighteen."
More pictures appeared of Frances, older, writing furiously with a lead pencil. On lined paper. In a rather uncomfortable desk. In what looked like a cramped classroom. "Oh My Q!" Q2 exclaimed. "Oh the torture! How could they possibly submit students to that?" Q had made the horrible realization that Frances was writing an... exam!
Q's beautifully, piercingly, not to mention all those other –ingly's, perceptive mind soon came to the conclusion that Q was looking too far back. Frances did not look like she was planning to take his Icheb away from him, and therefore the notion must not have occurred to her tiny mortal mind, yet.
He pressed a heretofore-nonexistent button, and fast-forwarded through time, reaching just before Frances disappeared in seconds. That girl Amanda had bumped into... he sent the Q- Net Sever after her, identifying her as Kathleen Janet Ingham Henry and receiving her entire history before her could shut the damn thing off.
He then fast-forwarded to about a year after Frances 'disappeared'. While 'now' and 'then' meant absolutely nothing to a Q, it would mean something to the damned mortals.
Now to get some real time events for blackmail.
A/N: Thank you for the good reviews. This fic is rapidly coming to an end, unfortunately. I had fun writing this. Thank you for your support, and, in case you are wondering, no, this is not that last chapter, but the last will be coming up in 4 or 5 more chapters, tops. And Marie Sheppard, I will try to fit in one or two more half-naked Icheb scenes. I am NOT putting in a full naked scene, this fic is rated pg for a reason. If you want that, I'm posting a Q2/Icheb songfic. It's entitled 'Iris', if you're into that kind of thing.
Benlet tugged gently on Icheb's arm, guiding the Brunali to a separate part of the quarters. They stood near the corner of the living room, as Benlet began to speak in a hushed tone.
"Okay, there are some things I got to talk to you about."
"Such as?" Icheb asked calmly, as he motioned for Benlet to sit in one of the chairs. Once the Bajoran was seated, he took a seat himself.
"Student-teacher relationships." Benlet said, watching for Icheb's reaction. The former Borg raised his right eyebrow in a way so like Captain Spock that Benlet was sure he had practiced it.
"I assure you, the rumors concerning me and Professor O'Brien are completely unfounded." Icheb remarked, his voice utterly calm, and serious.
"What? I didn't mean – When did that happen?" Benlet finally sputtered the question out, shocked about rumors that he had not known were being spread, and wouldn't, at any other time, really want to know about.
"They began a few months ago, and were saying that the Professor and I were romantically involved." How could Icheb be so calm about this? Benlet wondered, listening in dumbfounded silence. "I was merely helping him with his model of the Enterprise. Really, the rumors are rather ridiculous. Professor O'Brien is happily married with two children, and my interests do not turn towards men."
Icheb noted the look of shock and horror on Benlet's face with mild amusement. "Riiight," the Bajoran said, before seeming to regain his lost composure. "Well, that wasn't what I meant. I was talking about you and Frances."
"Oh."
Q2 pulled out what looked like a twentieth century Gameboy. "Time for the Q- Net Server..." he muttered to the rest of the universe, absolutely sure in his conviction that the rest of said universe cared.
"Search: Frances Henry. Age:" Q had to pause for a second. How old was Frances? And how old had she been? Q decided that a guess was better than nothing, and pulled a number at random. "Six." A few small pictures showed Frances running around wearing a cute, puffy dress, and leaping into her father's lap.
"Wait a Earth minute." Q snapped his fingers, and felt a sharp sting on his forehead - why hit your forehead when you can have a custom made, disposable, disembodied hand do it for you? "Okay, go away now." He said irritably rubbing the offended area. "Mortals can't even be accepted into Starfleet until they're eighteen... I'd better start there. Search: Frances Henry. Age: Eighteen."
More pictures appeared of Frances, older, writing furiously with a lead pencil. On lined paper. In a rather uncomfortable desk. In what looked like a cramped classroom. "Oh My Q!" Q2 exclaimed. "Oh the torture! How could they possibly submit students to that?" Q had made the horrible realization that Frances was writing an... exam!
Q's beautifully, piercingly, not to mention all those other –ingly's, perceptive mind soon came to the conclusion that Q was looking too far back. Frances did not look like she was planning to take his Icheb away from him, and therefore the notion must not have occurred to her tiny mortal mind, yet.
He pressed a heretofore-nonexistent button, and fast-forwarded through time, reaching just before Frances disappeared in seconds. That girl Amanda had bumped into... he sent the Q- Net Sever after her, identifying her as Kathleen Janet Ingham Henry and receiving her entire history before her could shut the damn thing off.
He then fast-forwarded to about a year after Frances 'disappeared'. While 'now' and 'then' meant absolutely nothing to a Q, it would mean something to the damned mortals.
Now to get some real time events for blackmail.