Carnal Pleasures [ST: TNG, PG-13]
- Author's Notes: Like many Q stories before it, this fic takes its premise
from the Star Trek episode 'Deja Q' in which the omnipotent being was
briefly made human. Some familiarity with the episode would be
advantageous - I'd suggest seeing Alara's page here
http://www.alara.net/trek/dqtree.html for information and more fanfiction.
Or you could just read the story and not worry too much.
This is for shallot, who wanted Picard/Q and carnality <g>. In spite of the
theme, there's nothing in here I'd rate above PG-13. Mind you, the American
ratings system confuses the hell out of me.
"Will you have sex with me?"
Captain Jean-Luc Picard prided himself on his ability to remain coherent in
the face of Q's sharpest barbs, but unfortunately the direct approach proved
the death of his eloquence.
Q leaned forward from his perch on ready room desk, making the most of their
height difference, and repeated the question slowly in a tone that suggested
Picard must have been stricken deaf or unable to understand English.
"Will you have sexual intercourse with me? I've tried to be circumspect in
my advances, but it didn't seem to be working so I thought I might as well
inquire. I would say 'please' but I'm only required to do that when asking
for something. In this case I believe I would be doing you a favour."
Picard sighed. In spite of his initial skepticism, he had come to believe
that Q - who had appeared stark naked on his bridge three months
beforehand - had indeed been cast out by his own species and rendered
He had seen the entity alarmed by the functioning of his own physical form,
although that had become less frequent over time. He had heard Deanna's
confirmation that she could sense his emotions, or a flawless imitation of
such. He had seen the arrogant creature ask - with a brave attempt at
politeness and more than a hint of desperation - to stay on the Enterprise
on a trial basis after the initial drama surrounding his arrival concluded.
More to the point none of Q's games had ever continued for so long. The
captain had trouble believing that the entity was capable of sustaining a
charade for such an extended period without becoming bored.
"Q, why the devil are you asking me to ... go to bed with you?"
"Well, you humans - *we* humans, I suppose - seem to enjoy sex. I'm running
out of new things to try that you use to compensate for your pathetic mortal
condition. As a raison d'etre chocolate lacks a certain something, and I
fail to understand why anyone would voluntarily become drunk. Especially
after the part with the vomitting, which is something I intend to never
Picard wondered idly if he could demote whoever had introduced Q to alcohol
on general principles, before realising that it had probably been Guinan
taking an oblique form of revenge.
The captain had only allowed Q to remain aboard after they had gotten rid of
the Calamarain and saved Birel 4 because he wanted to keep an eye on him. It
hadn't escaped his attention that this was exactly what Q had demanded just
before he set the Borg on them. Just before he became responsible for the
death of eighteen of Picard's crew.
To his considerable irritation, he had found Q's extensive knowledge of the
galaxy and its inhabitants useful so far. No more old enemies had turned up
to endanger the ship, and Q had even become relatively well-behaved under
Data's tutelage. He was still rude, arrogant and impatient but he had at
least accepted that changing the gravitational constant of the universe
wasn't a viable approach to problem-solving.
Moreover, Picard couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Q in his reduced
circumstances. He had behaved abominably during his previous encounters with
the Enterprise, but he seemed genuinely wiling to help the crew now. His
abilities, although merely mortal, were impressive. Q found some measure of
solace in his continued intellectual superiority to Starfleet's finest, and
once he had recovered somewhat from the initial shock he had gone back to
treating Picard with a mixture of subtle menace and far from subtle
flirtatiousness. Knowing that much of it was bravado now helped the captain
to ignore this behaviour more sucessfully than he had in the past ... at
least most of the time.
Which brought him back to the subject at hand.
"Actually, that wasn't what I meant. I quite understand that you have a
human libido now, but why are you asking *me*?"
What he meant was: what have I done to deserve this?
"Well, I have been experimenting on my own, but evidently there are more
possibilities with two people. I asked Data, but he says he's not qualified.
You certainly seem to be that, mon capitane. I looked into your background
while I was still omnipotent, so I know that you've had sex with several men
and far more women. I also know that you have been celibate for some time
now, and that you find this form attractive."
If he had been omnipotent himself, Picard would have chosen that moment to
sink into the floor, or explode, or quietly cease to exists. Q knew - had
always known - about Picard's entirely unwilling attraction to him. This was
clearly at the back of all the teasing, something the captain had long
Then it occurred to him that he was not, in fact, being laughed at. He was
being propositioned. By a former god, who had now been made mortal, helpless
and virginal, causing him to throw himself upon Picard's mercy ... and this
was in no way an appropriate thought. Even if Q couldn't read his mind
Apparently, though, he could read Picard's expression. He was sitting
quietly, awaiting a response. He *could* simply point out that physical
attraction wasn't the same as emotional attachment, of course, but outright
rejection might only make him more persistant.
"Q, it would not be right of me to take advantage of you ..."
"Oh, please, Picard. I expect you to come up with something better than
that. I am not a member of Starfleet. I can also assure you that although I
may be unfamiliar with how these things work for mortals, I happen to be
several billion years old and more than able to look after myself."
Picard wondered if that was true at all now, remembering Q's admission that
the captain was the nearest thing he had to a friend and protector. He
hadn't made any similar declarations in the intervening months, but
presumably that was why he had come to Picard with his request.
For his part ... he didn't even *like* Q, even if had found him bizarrely
compelling since the moment they met. He had learned to tolerate him better
over the past weeks and months, but if he was less dangerous than he used to
be, he was no less vexing. Picard's emotions in regard to the entity
continued to alternate between irritation, pity, intellectual fascination
and reluctant lust. None of those provided a solid foundation for real
friendship, let alone a sexual liaison.
But Q, it seemed, trusted him. He had no right to abuse that trust.
"It's not that I don't ..." he began.
And Q lent over the desk and kissed him on the mouth.
From any objective standpoint, it was a terrible kiss. Overly wet,
punctuated by random stabs of Q's tongue, and conducted at an awkward angle
due to the imposition of the desk. Picard hadn't been accosted so ineptly
since he was a teenager. Yet in an odd way, that seemed appropriate. It was
a very *human* thing to do.
"Well?" said Q expectantly, after he'd pulled away and wiped his mouth on
the back of his hand.
"I cannot help but be flattered by your enthusiasm, although your technique
leaves much to be desired."
Q smiled triumphantly. "In that case, you can help me practice."
It wasn't until then Picard realised that he hadn't actually said no.
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