Q studied the young woman. He looked almost like a hawk or a vulture that was about to swoop down from atop the trees and attack it's vulnerable prey on some sort of African plain. He stared at her intently and closely. It was so close that it caught Roxana's alarmed attention. She did not, however, speak. She had other things on her mind. Other, more important things. Much more important things.

Q sighed deeply and heavily. "You look…" he paused and tried to guess the emotion. The only people he had ever really seen properly were from the Starship Enterprise. And, he knew that using them as a reference would certainly not be very helpful. Picard didn't show emotion that often apart from anger and frustration. Data wasn't even able to show emotion and when he did try, it didn't go down all that well. Geordi had the infernal VISOR on which was practically covering his entire face, so there was no help there either. Counsellor Troi annoyed him. Reading other peoples', minds, even if it isn't his own, was just rude. "Preoccupied," Q then finished off his sentence. "Is that the word?"

Roxana didn't hear him at first. It seemed that her brain was far too busy. "Sorry, what?" She asked him for a clarification on what he had just said.

"You look a little preoccupied," Q repeated himself. It was only a mere five words or so but, nonetheless, Q sounded tired as he said it.

She looked over at him. "That's because I am," she replied simply and rather unhelpfully.

"May I ask why?" He inquired, sounding very curious as he did so.

She stood up from her chair in the kitchenette area and then walked over to where Q was. She sat down beside him delicately. She made an attempt at composing herself and then she began slowly, "I don't think you know about the war, do you?"

Q paused to think for a moment. "I know a lot of things," he said happily. "Among that knowledge is quite a great deal about humanity's conflicts. You've had so many."

She nodded and felt her eyes begin to glaze over. She blinked a few times in response and her vision slowly began to clear up, before clouding over again.

Q continued, adding, "I can name them all if you want."

Roxana didn't say anything in response to that. Instead, she just sat there, staring at the white wall in front of her.

Taking her silence as some sort of 'yes' to his question, Q began to show off his knowledge. He started with, "Battle of Hastings." He went on and on. After naming quite a few world conflicts, he, at last, came to the twentieth-century mark. He continued, "World War One, World War Two, Cold War." The final war he said, "The Falklands War", elicited a response from Roxana. He cast his gaze over in her direction and saw that she was crying. "You're crying," he stated the obvious, not knowing what else he should say.

She looked up at him and sniffed. She wiped her eyes carefully.

"Why?" He asked her curiously. He had no idea what the answer was.

Once again, she sniffed. "My brother, Alexander, he enlisted in that war…" she droned off, her voice becoming nothing more than a quiet whisper.

"The Falkland's War?" Q asked her.

She nodded slowly. "Uh huh," she clarified simply for him. "He was killed," she said.

"I see," he said bluntly, lacking the appropriate emotion.

"No, you don't see," she said. "You can't die. Gods can't die," she corrected him.

He smiled briefly. "So you do think I'm a god?" He asked her cautiously.

"Can you only think of yourself?" She asked him angrily. "Not of others?"

No one else is worth thinking about. Q wanted to correct her, but he stayed quiet instead. He thought it was best.

"He was only nineteen," Roxana added dreamily. She stared at the floor deeply.

"That is very young," Q agreed. "Very young. It's such a shame, I think."

She nodded and a slight smile played on her lips. Then, her facial expression grew darker again. "My mother and father, they got a phone call from the army. A phone call! Can you believe that?"

Q shook his head. "I don't really know what that is but it doesn't sound too good," he said simply.

"It was horrendous. All they said was 'Your son, Alexander Iolas Philippe, was shot down off the coast of the Falklands whilst evacuating residents'. Nothing more. Just that."

"That does seem improper," Q finally agreed.

"He's gone…" she started before leaving her sentence in the middle.

"It does seem that way," Q said impertinently, not realising how rude he was sounding. "Although," he then added, as if trying to make amends for his rudeness. "There are billions of humans in this galaxy, I'm sure one dead one won't be missed."

Roxana was furious. "How could you say that?" She yelled at him angrily.

"I—" Q began, stammering as he did so. He realised, now, that he had said the wrong thing.

"You bastard!" She screamed at him. She wasn't sat very far away from him, so he could hear it very well. He could see the lines of both worry and sadness as well as anger gently etched into her porcelain face.

"I apologise…?" His statement became a question. Whether or not this was purposeful, Roxana, nor Q, were quite sure.

"You can't just apologise for something like that!" She corrected him. "I was right. You do have no sympathy for others. You only care about yourself!"

Q wanted to correct her on that, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

"I'm already so fed up with this stupid planet," she exclaimed. "And now… And now, they go and kill my brother! My brother!"

"I don't really think it's fair to blame the entire planet, even though it is a dreary little rock, on your brother's death," Q said, speaking his mind, as he always did.

She ignored him, and he silently thanked someone for that. "Why not?" She questioned him loudly. "People started this stupid little conflict, and now my brother is dead. We're going to destroy ourselves," she added. "A nuclear holocaust, that's how I reckon we'll go."

Q nodded and said, agreeably, "I agree. That probably would have happened had it not been for… other events unfolding."

"Other events?" She asked him as she regarded him with a quizzical expression on her face.

"I shouldn't have said that," Q admitted. He knew he couldn't mess with timelines. He couldn't tell this girl the future. "Never mind," he then added quickly.

Roxana wouldn't let it slip on by, though. "Tell me," she said. "Please."

"I cannot," Q replied simply.

"Oh, let me guess. Timelines and all that, right?" She hazarded a guess.

Q nodded. "Precisely."

"Too bad, I guess," she decided. She wiped her eyes delicately with her fingers and sniffed again. The tears had stopped flowing down her cheeks, and she was thankful for that. But, there was still that horrible feeling sitting at the bottom of her stomach. She tried desperately to ignore it.

"What I can tell you, though, is this," Q added. "Humanity doesn't die out."

"How do you know?" She asked him sceptically

"I'm from the future. Have I not said that?"

"No, no, you have. But, you're not from that far in the future," she said.

"Oh yes, I forgot. Four hundred years isn't a lot of time for you mortals is it?" He asked her sarcastically.

Roxana giggled and for a short moment, she forgot all of her worries and upsets. She composed herself and then reiterated her statement. "No, what I mean is, can you travel in time?"

"Of course I can. How else would I be here?" He mocked her.

"Future. Time travel to the future," she reiterated her question to him.

"Ah, well. No, not really. Only the Q can," he replied.

"Only your species can? Out of everyone in the universe, it's only you?" She asked in wonderment of his response.

Q nodded and smiled gleefully. "Yes, only me. Well, only us," he corrected himself reluctantly.

"Are you the only alien species?" She asked him after some time of silence.

He laughed at the mention of that. "What a foolish question!" He exclaimed.

"How is it foolish? "She asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"The universe is larger than your silly little monkey brains can comprehend and still, you think you are alone?" He asked her with a snigger.

She shrugged and then realised how stupid her question was. "Just answer my question," she said wearily.

Q controlled his burst of laugher and then replied, "How many species do you think there are out there?" He asked her.

She stood up and walked over to the balcony. She stood on it, staring out at the dark night sky. She lived in the outskirts of London, so the light pollution was not really bad. It wasn't great though, either. She strained her eyes and she could just about make out the bright stars of Castor and Pollux as well as Orion's Belt.

Q followed her and said, "That's home to a race of green slave-trading aliens." He knew she was looking at Orion.

She looked at him and smiled. "You're lying."

"I never lie," he said, partially telling the truth, partially lying.

Roxana lifted an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. "Seriously?" She asked him again, just to be sure.

He nodded his head and replied, "Absolutely positive. I once was unfortunate to get involved with them. Nasty people."

"Not all of them are like that though, are they?" She asked, needing some sort of clarification.

"Not all of them, but some of them are, yes. Humanity can get to be quite an annoyance, even more so than now, as time goes by. Twenty-third century, they're not that much of a big deal. But, it's a completely different story when it comes to a hundred years later and you humans start to think you're all some sort of magical race. Which, may I add, you are most definitely not," Q said.

"Oh, that's you, I guess? The magical race?" She asked him mockingly.

He nodded and grinned. "Precisely."

"You know," she began slowly. "I'm beginning to like you."

"You're the first person who's ever said that to me," he replied. "Jean-Luc was a fool for not accepting me."

"Really?" She asked.

He nodded and then replied, "Yes, really. But, I have been told that on numerous occasions by this rather persistent Klingon woman. My, she was a handful."

Roxana giggled. "Klingon?"

"Yes, them. You'll have the displeasure of meeting them some time in the future."

"Yes, but I'll be dead and buried by that time," she said sadly. She looked out at the dark, magical blanket of the night sky.

"Maybe," he said pensively.

She smiled at him and asked, "Maybe?"

"There are no definite outcomes in this world," he said cautiously.

Smiling, she leant her head on his shoulder and stared out at the cosmos.

Q frowned and looked down at her. He wanted to shrug her off or something. And yet, all the same, he found that he actually rather liked the feeling, so he let her stay there. "I'll go there sometime," she said wishfully.

He nodded and replied, half-awake, "I'm sure you will."

She took her weight off of him and then stood by his side. Q happened to look down at her at that particular moment and she looked up also. She stood on the tips of her toes she pressed her mouth to his. His lips were firm and felt sort of odd. They felt cold. They were cold. There was no taste, no smell and only the faintest of textures. She had closed her eyes, but he hadn't. He was just simply and rather awkwardly staring straight on ahead. Roxana broke the kiss and saw him beginning to blush. "Sorry," she said quietly.

"I didn't think it was customary for humans to apologize to one another after initiating such a move," he stated plainly.

She smiled and replied, "It isn't. But, I just… I don't know. It's just that the other Q said you were trying to impress me, so…"

"Ah," Q said grinning. "I understand." He was about to walk back into the main area of the flat when he turned and said, "But, he was right."

"What?" Roxana asked him confusedly.

"Q2 was right about me trying to impress you."