Title: InQsitiveness
Fandom: Star Trek, TNG
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Picard/Q (one-sided Slash)
Rating: K+
Summary: Picard's Risa vacation keeps getting more interesting all the time.


"I thought you were the all-business type, Jean-Luc, certainly not this."

Picard caught himself on the verge of falling into the hotel wardrobe at the sound of that voice. "Q! What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same question, Jean-Luc. A pleasure planet, no less—how very naughty of you." Q stepped closer, crowding Picard against the wall. "And the creature in the next room now, really. What were you thinking?"

Picard ducked under Q's arm and busied himself with the tea service on the table. "I don't answer to you, Q. My amusements are none of your concern."

Q leaned against the wall, folding his arms as he watched Picard go through the ritual of pouring and steeping. "Amusements," he sniffed. "Yes, that certainly seems to describe the quality of what you've found." He regarded Picard's robe with undisguised interest. "Is this miniscule garment part of the amusement as well? You've never dressed that way for me, Jean-Luc."

Picard frowned abruptly. "I've never dressed any particular way with you in mind at all." He sampled the tea, and found it excellent. "As I recall, you have yet to turn up by invitation."

"Oh, pooh. Waiting is so dull, and you mortals pass through the universe so quickly. Where would we be if I waited for you to make the first move?" He snapped his fingers and the robe vanished.

Picard stilled at the sudden chill, both inside and out. "Q…" he began threateningly.

"I must say, I rather like the color of the red ones you've worn before better…"

"Return my clothing to me immediately!"

"And spoil the view? I think not."

A woman's voice called from the bathroom: "Jean-Luc, is someone out there?"

"It talks," Q muttered petulantly, "in a manner of speaking. Really, Jean-Luc, you could do so much better: 'Ith thomeone out there?' I don't know how you stand it."

Picard walked over toward the bathroom. "Just a communique from the Enterprise," he reassured its occupant through the door. "It's nearly finished," he added, glaring at Q pointedly.

"Oh what's she got that I haven't, tell me that," Q demanded.

"Where shall I begin?" Picard answered dryly, taking a piece of toast from the service tray and putting it on a plate.

"Perhaps the hair?" Q suggested, his head suddenly covered with dark, flowing tresses, "Or something more along the lines of this." Twin mounds of maiden flesh swelled under the front of Q's tunic, disturbingly ill-matched with the rest of his physique.

Picard turned toward the window, where the scenery was less unsettling. "You're making me dizzy," he remarked.

"The things I could show you, Jean-Luc—fiery oceans, silver birds, the planet of Tsuliva with its fifteen moons…"

"I'm quite satisfied with Risa, as it happens, and my current companion has been delightful," Picard said firmly.

"Yes," Q said sourly, "I'm sure she has. But there's no reason to limit oneself to such meager offerings, Jean-Luc. In fact—"


"It's high time we broadened your horizons a bit." Q snapped his fingers, and then all was silent.

Moments later the bathroom door opened and slender, dark-haired woman in a bath towel stepped into the room, surprised to find it empty.

"Jean-Luc?" she asked. "Hello?"

The warm tea and freshly-bitten toast reassured her. Oh well. He can't have gone far…

-- fin --