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Epilogue:

Later that night:

For the first time in his entire life, Trip was rearranging his quarters. He'd never even thought about this before—he was not much on interior design. Truthfully, he was so overjoyed at being back on Enterprise and among his friends that he couldn't keep still. Malcolm was off-duty in an hour and the two were going to play some basketball then, but Trip was having a hard time waiting.

"Okay—bed stays where it is, how about switching the head and the foot…or maybe just move the nightstand here…and the chair…" he asked himself as he moved what little furniture he had to and fro.

"Everything in order?" a voice inquired.

Trip whirled to find Q draped across his bed, snooping through his personal photos. "Oh, I like this one." he held up an image of Trip underwater in scuba gear. "Nice composition."

Trip pushed his aggravation aside and cleared his throat. He'd been waiting for this. To be honest he was surprised that he still remembered any of what had transpired in the future, but he was glad he did for the moment. "Thank you, whoever you are. I still don't know why you did it, but thank you."

I had my reasons…not that they worked," Q muttered.

Trip ignored this. "Well, thank you for giving me these six years back, for giving me the chance to do them right this time."

The dark haired man looked mystified. "Six years?"

"Yeah—you know…six years until I die? Six years until we pick up Shran on the way to the signing of the charter?"

"Oh that. Well, you never know, maybe things will be different this time," Q shrugged.

"What!" Trip was aghast. "You said the outcome of my death couldn't be altered!"

"Did I?"

"Yes! You said nothing significant would be changed."

"Well that I did say."

"So now are you telling me it can change?"

"I'm telling you," Q leaned forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with Commander Tucker, "that like most humans, you have an overblown idea of your own significance."

With that he winked out of existence for the last time, leaving Trip to absorb the implication of the entity's words…and wonder if he was grateful or insulted by them.

Less than twenty seconds later he forgot them…and everything else relating tothe mysterious strangerand their adventure aboard the Enterprise-D.

Q watched as the memories of the past days receded from Tucker's mind—had to be thorough about these things. His own minute experience with mortality had taught him that a person shouldn't know too much about their own death—that just lead to those horrible stomach things...unkers. No, oncers. Ulcers! That was it. Yes, it wasn't wise to dwell on such frightening uncertainties.

He supposed it should be some small comfort to know that the human would live long past the signing of the Federation charter…he had to get out of this what he could, especially as it didn't seem like the Q Continuum was going to overlook his latest infraction of their rules.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"Q. Always a lovely surprise to see you," the dark haired man said to his brethren who had materialized beside him. "What do you want? Come to gloat over my ejection from the Continuum? What's the sentence to be this time? Mortality as a sea slug? An eternity of acting as a Klingon deity?"

"Actually…I'm not sure you will be exiled. Or punished, for that matter."

"What!"

The blonde Q shifted uncomfortably on his feet (how did humans live with these appendages, anyway?). "They're prepared to be…charitable in hearing your case."

"Really? What brought on this sudden bout of compassion?" he raised an eyebrow to his friend.

"I couldn't say."

Q smiled smugly at his companion.

"Okay, maybe I said that your plan to rectify your mistake had some merit." Q's grin spread. "But I don't know if that had any influence on their decision," he added hastily.

"Of course not."

"But you are on probation, Q," the blonde being warned, "so watch your step. Anther slip-up and you're out—for good this time!" With that, he disappeared into a haze of nothingness.

Q waved a hand nonchalantly. "I've heard that before."