Author's Note: Thank you for reading and for your kudos, reviews, likes, and support! This is such an absolute pleasure to write. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed weaving it together.
It's been quite some time without an update as I've been heavily focused on The Complication.
I originally said this story would be strictly seven chapters.
I lied.
It's going to be eight or nine total (depending on the length of the big reveal).
Thank you for your patience!
This is intended to be a fun, light-hearted story full of mystery and fluff.
"We do not have time for your games, Q," Picard snapped.
The Captain jumped up from the table in a huff and adjusted his waistcoat.
Captain Picard took a step forward before turning back to Q.
"One of my crewmen is injured and in need of medical attention," Picard fumed as he pointed to Lieutenant Barclay.
"Part of the mystery," Q said with a grin.
"I'm going to die?" Reg asked panicked.
"No one is going to die," Lwaxana assured him.
She took hold of his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"Another member of my crew was held against her will in conditions-" Picard went on but was cut off by Q.
Q scoffed and rolled his eyes before turning to Tasha.
"It's a good thing I like you because you have quite a knack for trying my patience," he remarked, annoyed.
He looked back to Picard.
"She's fine," Q said protested.
Picard frowned.
"Oh, come now, Jean-Luc," Q said as he pinched the Captain's face. "I would never let anything seriously happen to you on someone's birthday!"
Tasha was furious.
She was not 'fine' as Q had stated – the bruising on her hands was more than enough physical evidence to the contrary.
Her feet were sore and cut from running around barefoot.
Worst of all, she felt horrible that she had deactivated Data against his will.
She knew how great a violation of his personhood such an action was, how deeply it infringed upon his rights.
Tasha had only done so out of concern that they were all in danger.
She opened her mouth to respond, but Data's hand shot out.
He gripped her arm protectively as a warning, wordlessly reminding her not to upset the omnipotent and all-powerful Q.
"And where is Guinan?" Picard questioned.
No one had seen Guinan since the night before.
Although he wasn't privy to the details of their relationship, Captain Picard knew that there was a history between the enigmatic El-Aurian barkeep and the almighty Q.
"She's safe," Q assured him.
"We've heard that before," Geordi retorted.
He caught Tasha's eyes briefly before looking back at Q.
"I implore you to take me to Guinan," Picard asked in a firm, but even voice.
Q pouted.
"You wound me, Jean-Luc," Q lamented. "It hurts that we cannot trust one another."
The Captain did not blink. He lifted his chin as he and Q stared at each other – neither moving as if they were facing off in a metaphorical battle of wits.
After a moment, Q looked away and clicked his tongue.
"Fine," Q grumbled.
With the clap of his hands, Guinan appeared next to Captain Picard.
She was still dressed in her purple gown from the night before and appeared to be unharmed.
"Are you alright?" Picard asked as he turned toward Guinan.
Guinan nodded and glanced over to Q.
"Yeah, I'm just fine," she said slowly.
Guinan didn't elaborate further, but the Captain suspected there was more to the story than she let on.
"Why is Lieutenant Barclay bleeding out on the table?" Guinan asked.
"Oh! I almost forgot," Q said as he clasped his hands together.
Q jumped to his feet. With the click of his fingers, the bleeding suddenly stopped.
Beverly, who had been holding down pressure on the wound, felt along his skin. After a few seconds, she lifted Tasha's jacket that had served as a bandage and visually inspected the area.
"It's as if he were never shot," Beverly said in astonishment as she looked back at the Captain.
Reg looked down at his abdomen and blinked in bewilderment.
He started to feel dizzy. His head weaved back and forth as his eyes struggled to remain open.
After a few seconds, Reg slumped back onto the table.
Lwaxana could tell he was overwhelmed.
"Poor thing," Lwaxana whispered.
"What do you mean 'poor thing'? I healed him," Q hissed.
Lwaxana stood up and pulled herself up to her full height with an air of aristocratic composure that could be properly emulated by the Daughter of the Fifth House.
"Do you know what I like about you?" Lwaxana asked sweetly as she sauntered toward Q.
Q blinked, surprised by her forwardness.
He cocked his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Not much," Lwaxana finished coldly.
Commander Riker and Deanna exchanged a glance.
Captain Picard did his best to bite back a grin.
In spite of his general irritation with the Ambassador, he had to admit she was certainly a match for Q.
Unable to respond, Q turned back to an easier target.
"Mon Capitaine," Q said warmly as he cupped Picard's face. "Your crew are safe and now your mystery awaits."
Q pinched the Captain's cheek and gave it a shake.
Captain Picard cleared his throat and took a step back.
"We are done playing your game, Q," Picard said firmly.
Q chuckled.
"Done? You've barely started," Q teased.
"No," Picard insisted as he took a seat at the table.
Q hadn't been expecting this reaction.
"I know you've been eager to play this game," Q said as he approached Keiko.
She shook her head.
"Not like this," Keiko replied.
Q's face soured and he turned to Geordi next.
"It's your best friend's birthday Mr La Forge," Q said, trying to pressure the Engineer. "And Professor La Roux wouldn't shy away from a challenge."
He threw his arm over Geordi.
"You don't want to disappoint him, do you?" Q asked.
Geordi crossed his arms and turned his head away from Q, refusing to acknowledge his question.
"Remember that all work and no play makes Geordi a dull boy," Q snarled before stepping away.
Q turned to Commander Riker and Counsellor Troi.
"The two of you seemed to be enjoying this game. Don't you want to see how it ends?" Q said in an effort to entice them to continue.
It was true – both Deanna and Will had been enjoying their time inside the fictional manor house. The mystery party was a welcome break from their usual responsibilities. And their respective characters offered a lot of fun.
However, they both knew they couldn't give in to Q.
"C'mon Riker, old buddy, old pal," Q urged.
"Not this time," Riker replied reluctantly.
Q turned on his heel to where Data and Tasha were standing near the doorframe.
He grinned manically.
"No," Data said firmly as he put one finger up in anticipation of Q's next offer.
"But you haven't heard me out," Q protested.
"We'd like you to end this," Data asserted. "Now, please."
Q scoffed and put his hands on his hips.
"But this is your first birthday, my dear friend," Q said as he gestured to the room.
Internally, Data's mind was buzzing.
There was certainly a sense of disappointment about losing out on the opportunity of such a fascinating game. Despite their history with Q, Data couldn't help his natural fascination with such a lifeform.
However, Data recognised that this was not something that could proceed.
They were all in danger if Lore was involved.
Tasha had been abducted, Reg had been shot, and something had happened to both Guinan and Wesley.
Things had gone too far.
"Enough of this!" Worf growled.
Q looked around and realised he had lost.
For now. Q thought.
Q put his hands up in surrender.
"Fine. If you don't want to play, then don't," he said simply.
Captain Picard breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad you've all enjoyed your stay at this manor," Q went on. "Because you'll be staying here until you finish the game."
Before the Captain could protest, Q snapped his fingers.
In a bright flash, he was gone.
For a moment, no one said anything.
Keiko and Miles looked at one another.
Sonya had certainly heard enough about Q to know that they were powerful, yet fickle, beings. But she had never experienced something like this before.
Deanna could sense the tension and anxiety building among the crew.
"Sir?" Deanna prompted.
Captain Picard took a deep breath and sat back in his chair.
"We may have no choice but to play along," Riker commented. "Maybe it works like the holodeck when we've had breakdowns? Perhaps we have to finish the programme in order to shut it down?"
"But how?" Geordi asked. "We don't even know what to do next!"
"And we have no way of knowing if this is truly a holodeck or a space that Q has created," Data added.
The weight of Data's words fell upon the group.
"What is it that the Q like about you?" Guinan asked in an effort to lead Captain Picard to a decision.
Picard nodded in understanding as he grasped her train of thought.
"They find us entertaining," Picard mused aloud. "Take that away and there's no reason to keep us here."
A general sense of agreement went around the room.
Captain Picard stood up.
"Then from this point forward, no one is to engage in any discussion of or effort to solve the mystery," Picard ordered.
"Sir, if I may recommend it is also safest for us to remain as a group," Data advised. "If Lore is indeed involved with this endeavour, it is imperative that we minimise any opportunity for him to cause trouble."
They were all disturbed by Lore's alleged involvement.
His ability to slip in amongst them so easily as Data was a serious security threat.
"Theorise Mr Data, Q and Lore?" Picard pondered. "What could they possibly be after?"
A portion of Data's neural net had been struggling with that very question since he first came to the realisation of Lore's involvement earlier.
As of yet, he had found no correlation between Lore and Q.
Nor could Data hypothesise any possible reason for the two of them to work together against the crew of the Enterprise.
"Unknown, sir," Data replied honestly.
The crew moved into the lounge to wait in more comfortable quarters.
Keiko and Sonya were sitting at one of the tables discussing the situation.
Miles, Geordi, and Reg were crowded near the fireplace having a heated discussion about the holodeck parameters.
Worf and Commander Riker had decided to play a game of old-fashioned one-dimensional chess to pass the time.
In accordance with her favourite coping mechanism, both Deanna and her mother had torn into a tray of chocolate dipped biscuits.
Captain Picard and Guinan were over at the bar as he pressed her for information.
"Guinan, help me here," Picard said pleadingly.
Guinan opened the globe to reveal a hidden bar. She pulled out two tumblers and a bottle of whisky.
Pouring them both a dram, she passed one of the glasses to the Captain.
"What do you think is the oldest hobby in the universe?" Guinan asked him.
The Captain took a sip of the amber liquid as he considered her question.
After a few moments, Jean-Luc shook his head.
"I don't know," he replied honestly.
"People watching," Guinan answered. "Observing others. It's the oldest form of entertainment and the basis for everything from storytelling and literature to theatre."
Jean-Luc knew she was right. And they had already devised during their earlier interactions with Q that the source of his fascination was a desire for amusement.
"So we're doing the right thing?" Picard asked to clarify.
He wanted some assurance that his plan to deny Q would be successful.
Guinan shrugged as she slid into one of the high-backed armchairs.
"Hard to say," she admitted. "If Q has suspended time and space there's no telling how long he could keep us here."
Across the room, Data and Tasha were standing near one of the windows.
"Tasha?" he inquired softly.
She had avoided eye contact with him since entering the room.
Instead of looking at him, she was fixated on the grounds outside.
"I'm so sorry," Tasha apologised.
She felt guilty for deactivating Data without his consent.
Worst of all, she had tricked him into it.
"If you are referring to my deactivation, I know that you would not have taken such a step without good cause," Data told her.
To his relief, she turned and met his eyes.
"I thought you were," she paused as she searched for the right words. "Well…not you."
Data took hold of her hand and turned it over as he examined the bruising.
"What happened last night?" Data asked.
He explained the circumstances under which he had found her as he traced the bruising with his fingers. She had been unconscious, and he was unable to rouse her.
"I identified the substance as chloroform. I did not wish to leave you alone," Data explained.
"I should have questioned it sooner than I did," Tasha admitted bitterly. "You would never have acted like that."
A dark look fell upon Data's face.
"What did Lore do to you?" Data inquired.
"Nothing," Tasha said. "Just was acting funny, you know? Little things that – looking back – I realise should have been bigger red flags."
Data suspected there was something more than she was letting on, but he did not press the issue.
Captain Picard approached the pair.
"Data, do you truly believe Lore is here? Or could this be a ruse by Q?" Picard asked.
"Unknown, sir," Data responded honestly. "Anything is possible with the Q."
"It's Lore," Tasha chimed in.
She couldn't explain it, but she knew it in her heart. There was something about him that had seemed so real and malicious about him.
"If it truly is Lore, I do not believe any alliance between Q and my brother would be compatible long-term," Data explained. "I would theorise that, in time, they will eventually grow frustrated with one another."
"So we just wait?" Lore hissed as he slammed his fist down on the desk.
"Jean-Luc and his crew can't wait forever," Q replied. "Eventually they'll crack."
Q was ready to wait as long as necessary in order to get Jean-Luc to capitulate.
"Perhaps hunger will compel them to cooperate," Q mused aloud.
He could be just as stubborn as his Captain and wasn't going to give Jean-Luc the satisfaction of one-upping him again.
Lore sighed and flopped down on the bed in his room.
"Well, they don't appear to mind so far," Lore grumbled.
He was impatient. He'd agreed to this mysterious man's request because it offered him an opportunity to play with his dear brother.
In truth, Lore had been lonely.
Drifting around with the Pakleds was a far cry from the excitement that the Enterprise offered.
Aside from their trading stops, this was the first chance Lore had gotten to be around other people.
The Pakleds were friendly enough, but their idiotic charm had quickly worn off.
Lore had begun to regret this trip as it was turning out to be a bust.
"How long has it been?" Lore groaned.
"Don't you understand? I suspended time, pea brain," Q said with an air of superiority that indicated Lore had asked a stupid question.
Lore flopped down on the chaise lounge with a pout and began to pick at his fingernails.
There was no biological need or dirt present – he just liked to fidget.
His father had been fascinated with ancient Earth media and Lore had seen enough classic films to perfectly emulate the behaviour of historic femme fatale divas of the screen.
"You're really going to let them just walk all over you?" Lore prodded.
Q scoffed as he flipped through the pages of a magazine he'd snagged from Guinan's room. He was sitting at the desk with his feet propped up on the surface.
"I miss Bogie," Q lamented. "They really don't make 'em like him anymore."
"Do something," Lore urged.
He was bored.
"I told you, Jean-Luc and his little crew don't want to play anymore," Q said. "So, we wait."
"Are you not an omnipotent being of untold power?" Lore retorted.
"Yes," Q replied, his tone indicating offense at the very idea of questioning his power.
"Then make them play," Lore hissed.
Lore bit back a grin as Q stopped flipping through the magazine. He could see the wheels were spinning in his mind.
"You're the puppet master," Lore went on. "So, make them dance."
Q felt a rush of excitement at the prospect.
As quickly as the thrill came, it was gone. His stomach dropped.
He could force them to go through the paces to finish the mystery – but it would take away all of the exhilaration of watching them act out the unknown. Completion under such circumstances would come at the cost of eliminating that which made humans so fascinating in the first place.
"Jean-Luc would never go along with that," Q sighed. "Besides, it wouldn't be any fun."
Lore growled as he sat up.
"When you take away all the anticipation and mystery of watching humans react and interact, it's just not entertaining," Q bemoaned.
"Where are you going?" Q asked as Lore got up.
"Out," Lore replied shortly as he made his way to the door.
Q snapped his fingers and the door disappeared.
Lore turned back to Q and cocked his head to the side.
"Bring the door back," Lore said, his hands on his hips.
"You can't go out there," Q insisted.
Lore tapped his foot in frustration.
"You invited me to this little game to introduce chaos," Lore said.
Q scoffed.
Lore couldn't just wander out there and take things into his own hands. It would spell disaster.
After all, his little stunt the day before had tipped off the crew to their involvement.
"You gave away our identities," Q said curtly.
Lore stomped over to the desk and slammed his hands down on the surface.
"And you could just as easily wipe those memories, restart the programme," Lore snapped. "Hell, you could turn them all into Grubelian slugs and put them on a salad. But you don't. So why are you afraid of Jean-Luc Picard?"
Q was taken aback.
"Don't insult me," Q sneered.
Lore gave him a knowing look, awaiting an explanation.
In truth, Q didn't want to force them to complete the mystery or restart the programme because deep down he longed for Picard and his crew to want to play.
He wanted them to like him.
To see him as a fun – albeit omnipotent – eccentric fatherly figure that dropped in from time to time to bring a little fun to their bleak, mortal lives.
Suddenly, Q sat up in alarm as an uncomfortable realisation settled in his mind.
"Oh my Gods, I've become Uncle Arthur," he said with a look of disgust.
Lore cocked his head to the side.
"Uncle Arthur, accessing," Lore said as he flipped through his information database in search of the reference.
Q waved him off.
"Don't bother," Q instructed.
Lore watched with anticipation as Q got up from his chair. He began to pace back and forth across the room, scratching his chin in deep thought.
All of sudden, Q stopped and laughed maniacally.
"So?" Lore asked.
Q whipped around to face Lore. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye.
"So, it's time to make my puppets dance," Q said wickedly as he snapped his fingers.
"It's about time," Lore exclaimed.
"And when they're ready to play willingly again, I'll be happy to appear," Q remarked as he sat back down.
Lore nodded in understanding.
At least Q was finally doing something about it rather than moping around.
Lore grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and slipped it on.
He checked his appearance in the mirror, turning his head side to side as he checked his hair.
Lore winked to himself and made for the door.
Without warning, the door disappeared.
"Bring the door back," Lore ordered.
"Why? What are you going to do?" Q asked, concerned.
Lore turned and held out his hands innocently.
"What I do best," Lore grinned. "Introduce a little chaos."
Q let out an exasperated sigh.
"You are not crashing my party wearing that," Q insisted.
Lore rolled his head around in frustration.
He was about to blow a fuse when Q stopped him.
"Cinderella will not go to the ball in that," Q warned.
He clicked his fingers and Lore glanced down to find himself dressed in a black coat with tails.
He smoothed down his waistcoat and grinned when he spied the black and white wingtip shoes on his feet.
Q snapped his fingers once more and produced an intricate cane in Lore's left hand.
Lore was impressed.
"Not bad," Lore remarked as he tugged at the sleeves.
"Just call me your fairy godmother," Q quipped dryly. "And be back before midnight this time, ok?"
"Doctor, stop," Jean-Luc ordered.
Doctor Crusher shook her head.
"I can't," she replied simply.
"Beverly, please," Jean-Luc implored her.
"You don't understand, I can't ," Beverly insisted.
A minute earlier, the crew had been sitting together in the longue waiting patiently for Q to get bored of his game and release them.
There had been a bright flash of light and they now found themselves in a new part of the manor – the ballroom to be specific.
While the windows in the lounge had been filled with artificial sunlight from the morning's rays, the floor-length windows of the ballroom seemed to be filled with darkness.
If the clock on the wall were to be believed, it was nearly 21:00 hours.
Jean-Luc knew the Q were capable of manipulating time, but had the really just lost twelve hours?
Worst of all, he was dancing with Beverly and they both seemed entirely unable to stop.
With a complete lack of control over his own body, Captain Picard spun Beverly and found himself face-to-face with Lwaxana Troi.
"Why Jean-Luc, fancy meeting you here," she teased.
"It's my house," he replied through clenched teeth.
Panic struck his heart.
He hadn't meant to say that.
In fact, the words had left his mouth without any thought or notion from him.
Jean-Luc was responding in character, and he had no control over the matter.
Glancing around the ballroom, it was evident everyone appeared to be in the same predicament.
"You look very handsome, Worf," Deanna said warmly.
"Uncomfortable shoes," Worf growled.
Not only had the setting changed from the lounge to the ballroom – they were all now finely attired, their mismatch of hunting clothes and sleep garments replaced by top hats and tails.
Deanna was dancing with Worf and could see the vein in his temple had popped out as he grumbled something about this being a 'security threat.'
"Um, does this kind of thing happen a lot?" Sonya squeaked.
"With Q, anything can happen," Geordi replied, trying to offer her some reassurance.
It was certainly unusual, but not entirely unpleasant, to find himself forced to dance with Sonya Gomez.
There are plenty of worse ways to go. Geordi mused.
"This isn't so bad, is it?" Miles asked.
"But what if we don't stop?" Keiko questioned. "These shoes aren't exactly my kind of thing."
She was certain her feet were going to be throbbing soon.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Miles apologised. "If it's any comfort, you look lovely."
"I'd rather be able to walk, thanks," Keiko retorted.
A meter away, Wesley Crusher's brain was in high gear.
"Then if we've lost twelve hours of time that would only leave thirty-six hours before the team at Starbase 515 would notice a problem," Wesley theorised aloud. "Assuming we are still, in fact, on the actual holodeck and not a space created solely by Q for-"
"Wes," Beverly said, cutting him off.
"Yes mom?" he asked.
"Shut up and dance with your mother," she said with a smile.
Wes was a sweet boy and not a day went by that Beverly wasn't proud of him.
However, it was rare that they got to enjoy moments like this.
"But mom, this is Q," Wes protested.
He couldn't believe she would actually go along with one of Q's schemes.
"And we can't seem to do anything but dance right now," Beverly replied. "So, I'm going to enjoy it."
Across the dance floor, Jean-Luc was desperate for any sort of distraction from Mrs Troi.
He looked around frantically.
Less than a metre away he spied Lieutenant Yar.
As he and her partner turned, he laughed at the sight of them. Lieutenant Barclay's head was down, clearly watching his feet.
"Mr Barclay, I suggest you stop looking at your feet," Picard said.
There was no response.
"He can't hear you," Tasha called back. "He fainted."
She looked as if there was something sour on her tongue.
It was a morbid sight indeed – an unconscious Lieutenant Barclay dancing away as if he were some headless spectre. His feet moved on command and Tasha had no ability to pull away.
"Is that uncomfortable, Lieutenant?" Picard asked, concerned.
"Extremely, sir," Tasha replied honestly.
"Well, I'm having fun!" Riker boasted loudly as he danced with Guinan.
"You're not too bad on your feet, Commander," Guinan replied.
"No!" Picard said sharply. "This is what Q wants."
Jean-Luc was agitated. He knew that Q was intentionally placing them in his situation to entertain himself. Whatever need or fixation he had with humans, Picard did not believe feeding such an addiction would stop it.
"Don't give in to him," Picard ordered.
"Sir, I don't think we have a choice," Riker replied.
"Is there anyone here that's not dancing?" Picard shouted.
There had to be some way out of this.
Their past experiences with Q had demonstrated that what he liked most was seeing them react to the various positions he forced them into. It was likely Q had placed some kind of failsafe or escape to see if they would be successful in finding it.
"I am not, sir," Data replied from the corner of the room.
When their positions had changed, Data had found himself the only person not dancing. His adept audio sensors enabled him to pick up on their conversation.
Data informed them that as soon as it was clear they had no control over their actions, he had decided to use the opportunity to explore the room for clues.
"Then please, Data. Theorise. Find a way to stop this," Picard commanded.
Data nodded and resumed his search of the room.
The ballroom was one of the largest rooms in the manor and it was set at one end of the house. Three sides of it featured floor-length windows with sashes that overlooked a garden.
Near the dancefloor, a disembodied band provided the music.
There was a large chandelier and seating along one end. Mirrors along the last wall gave the illusion that the space was twice as large.
Two large French doors connected the ballroom to the rest of the manor home.
"These doors are sealed, sir," Data reported after his third failed attempt to open them.
"Try the other ones," Picard ordered.
Indeed, the doors that led out to the garden were open.
"I am going to check this area," Data advised as he stepped out into the night.
To Data's dismay, the garden proved to be a dead end.
It was surrounded by a high fence and hedges filled with thorns. Data had made an effort to climb over the hedges only to find they were, in fact, capable of damaging him.
He had pulled his hand away sharply, shocked at experiencing a sensation of pain.
Data looked down at his hand. With fascination, he watched as biofluid leaked from the spots where thorns had pricked his fingers.
On top of the sharp pain of the stab itself, there was a lingering sting. Data wondered if this was what humans experienced when pricked with things like nettles.
Although slightly unnerving, it was also a curious prospect as Data was unaccustomed to such a sensation.
Aside from several statues, lights, and stone benches, there were no other objects in the garden.
Well, at least not anything other than the flora.
Data had identified them as predominantly common garden species appropriate to the Earth's geographical climate and the period setting.
While he would normally enjoy spending time in such a lovely garden, Data knew he had a duty to find a way out.
The only side of the garden that wasn't fenced in appeared to disappear into the nothingness.
Data could hear the sound of running water.
Stepping over to the edge, he looked out to see that the river near the home curved to run alongside the garden. It was situated next to a waterfall. Data could feel the light mist that spilled off the falls into the garden.
He was momentarily struck by their resemblance to the Reichenbach Falls where the fictinal Sherlock Holmes had his final entaglement with his nemesis Professor Moriarity.
The water hit off the rocks that lined a crevice in the terrain and spilled into a dark, inky pool below. Eventually this ran off a smaller waterfall into the river before it resumed its course into the wilderness.
The fall had to be close to thirty metres and Data wasn't keen to try.
There was no telling how deep the pool could be, and Data's construction meant that he lacked the buoyancy to swim.
Surely Q could not have intended to trap them here?
Data felt terrible.
This party had been his idea.
Now his friends were trapped, and it was all his fault.
Back inside, the crew were still held hostage by Q's music.
Suddenly, the tempo changed. Tasha breathed a sigh of relief as she felt Reg's hands slip away. While she had no intention to wish dancing with an unconscious partner on anyone else, she was grateful for the chance to slip away.
Tasha found herself face-to-face with a familiar pair of yellow eyes as his pale hand took hold of her own.
"What did you find?" Tasha asked eagerly.
"Not much," he replied simply.
Tasha blinked.
"Ok, so what was the 'not much' then?" Tasha pressed.
He cocked his head at her.
"Not much implies you still found something," Tasha explained.
It wasn't like Data to say something as casual as 'not much' if he had meant 'nothing.' Data didn't use colloquialisms like that.
Tasha's smile dropped.
She looked over and saw that Reg was still unconscious, his arms outstretched holding an invisible partner. It was a gruesome sight as his feet carried him across the floor.
Tasha glanced back at the person she was dancing with and felt a chill as he looked at her strangely.
"That's right," Lore teased. "I'm back."
As disturbing as it was, Tasha knew three things.
Firstly, Lore didn't appear to be impacted by Q's machinations which meant he had control of his own body.
If that were true, it would mean Lore could hurt them and they would be powerless to stop it.
Lastly, this could be an opportunity to gather information.
Lore liked attention. Just as the classic villains in the stories Data and Tasha read together, Lore enjoyed tempting his targets – dangling information to scare them.
His sense of superiority had frequently proved to be his downfall.
"Why are you doing this?" Tasha asked bluntly.
"Isn't this fun?" Lore replied, dodging the question.
The line of Tasha's mouth narrowed.
"I'm having fun," Lore replied with a grin. "And if it's Data's birthday, I suppose that makes it my birthday as well."
As she spun around, Tasha looked across the room to see if Data was anywhere.
"Perhaps I want to enjoy myself," Lore explained. "Spend some time. See the family."
Tasha scanned the doors to the garden but couldn't see Data.
"I received an invitation," Lore informed her. "I'm trapped here just like you."
Tasha turned her attention back to Lore and eyed him sceptically.
"It's true," Lore insisted.
She didn't want to believe him. There was no logic in it – Q and Lore had never interacted with one another on the Enterprise. There would be no reason to include Q in such an endeavour.
Like Lwaxana Troi?
Tasha's chest grew tight.
Q didn't know Mrs Troi either. And yet, here she was dancing with the Captain.
The Q were omnipotent beings.
And the universe was much bigger than the hull of the Enterprise.
"The only way out of this is to play his game," Lore explained. "Otherwise, he's going to keep you here like puppets until you agree."
Tasha was perplexed.
Lore was speaking as if he knew something more about the game than they did.
"Why are you helping us?" Tasha questioned.
She was so confused by Lore's actions. Tasha considered it was possible that Q had sent Lore to encourage them to resume active participation.
However, Lore insisted his motivations weren't motivated by Q.
"I was invited to this endeavour for one reason," Lore said.
He looked down at Tasha and grinned.
"Because I'm chaos. And that is my role," Lore implored her. "Chaos doesn't choose sides."
Lore was being truthful.
Chaos didn't choose sides. However, he knew that he needed to get the crew back into the game for Q's sake or the whole event would be a disappointment.
"It's my job, dear sister," Lore went on.
Tasha frowned.
"Don't call me that," she snapped.
Lore tightened his grip on the small of her back and leaned in close to Tasha's ear.
"Oh please, I know more about you and my dear baby brother than you realise," Lore said in a low voice.
Tasha stiffened as Lore spoke her most intimate memories aloud.
I accepted the invitation to your bed because the sound of your laughter is enjoyable.
I am glad I did not delete my memory engrams as I will treasure them.
Those feelings remain unchanged whether we are nine decks or ninety-thousand lightyears away from one another.
"He's too modest to ever tell you, but I think you should know that it causes a surge in his neural net whenever-" Lore began.
Tasha's eyes went wide with a mix of embarrassment and anger as Lore whispered his suggestion in her ear.
He pulled back a moment later, his face plastered with a cheeky grin.
"You'll thank me later," Lore said with a taunting wink.
"I should smack you," Tasha replied.
"But you can't," Lore reminded her.
Tasha loathed that he was right.
She was also alarmed that he seemed to have the knowledge of some of her most private memories with Data.
Most upsetting of all, she couldn't fathom how this all fit together.
"Where's Data?" Tasha demanded.
Lore kissed the back of her hand and slipped away with a deep bow.
A moment later, Tasha felt herself spin.
She was about to grumble again assuming she was back with Reg, only to find herself dancing with the Captain.
Tasha breathed a sigh of relief.
Before she could tell him what had occurred, Reg regained consciousness to find himself dancing with Lwaxana Troi and with absolutely no control over his feet.
Reg startled and shouted.
"Oh relax!" Lwaxana called out.
The Captain laughed satisfactorily. Despite his insistence that they take no joy in Q's game, he couldn't help but bow to the absurd in this case.
"Sir, we have to play the game," Tasha urged. "We need to finish the programme. It's the only way."
"Lieutenant, you are the last person I expect to endorse such an idea," Picard said.
A concerned look was etched in her features. She explained to the Captain that Lore had slipped into the room somehow and informed her that they needed to play Q's game in order to escape.
"He claims he's trapped here too," Tasha went on. "And I believe him."
"Lieutenant," Picard said in a warning tone.
He could tell by the way she was looking at him that Tasha Yar was feeling guilty.
And he knew it could only be because of what she was about to do.
"I'll play!" Tasha shouted. "Do you hear me Q? I'll play your game!"
Captain Picard sighed and closed his eyes in disappointment.
"I'm sorry, sir," Tasha apologised. "But resistance has been futile."
Tasha stepped back and dropped her head.
Suddenly, she looked around and clutched her arms against herself.
"I'm not dancing," she exclaimed as her eyes went wide.
Beverly, braver than most, was the next to try.
"I'll play," Beverly said aloud.
"As much as I enjoy this," Riker grinned to Guinan. "Count me in!"
Beverly and Commander both stopped dancing.
"Number One!" Picard said, chastising him. "Just what do you think you are doing?"
"Getting out of here, sir," Riker replied.
He knew it was in defiance of the Captain's orders, but he saw no alternative.
"Thank goodness, my feet are killing me," Guinan said as she announced she would play the game as well.
Wes, Deanna, Mrs Troi, Keiko, and Miles were the next to agree to play.
Barclay, not wanting to be left alone, stammered that he would join too.
"Geordi?" Sonya asked nervously.
"What have we got to lose?" Geordi said with a shrug.
It left Worf and Captain Picard dancing together on the floor.
"Your orders, sir?" Worf asked as he twirled the Captain.
Jean-Luc hated to feel helpless.
"I leave that choice to you, Mr Worf," Picard replied.
Worf's brow furrowed as he considered his choices. He could agree to play Q's game. However, Worf – more so than most of the officers – had a bad history with Q.
At every encounter, Q had belittled and taunted the Klingon.
Furthermore, he had no desire to undermine the Captain.
"For gods sake, Mr Worf. Make your decision quickly," Picard urged.
Worf looked down as realisation dawned on him that the Captain may be embarrassed about their current situation.
No doubt he was uncomfortable dancing with his Tactical officer. Next to Worf, Captain Picard appeared almost fragile, and it was a look that did not command the air of authority necessary for leading his crew.
Data returned from the garden to find the rest of the party in a circle, watching the Captain and Worf dance.
"What is happening?" Data inquired as he came up behind Tasha.
"Sir. Jean-Luc, please," Beverly encouraged.
"I do not find this amusing," Picard grumbled.
"You're the one dancing," Lwaxana threw back at him.
That sealed it.
"Alright! We'll play!" Picard shouted in irritation. "We'll all bloody play!"
There was a flash of light.
Worf appeared next to Wesley in the circle and was replaced by Q.
"Oh, Jean-Luc," Q simpered. "You know just how to make a Q happy."