The BLTS Archive - Inter-Q
by Anon Sisters

---

One of the Anon Sisters has written a PWP sort of in the style of the
*other* Anon Sister.  Their identities still haven't been guessed --
well, a couple people figured out one of them, but not the other.  So
here's your chance to guess again -- and there's a request for
others to take up the baton.

Hope you like it!

Standard disclaimer -- don't own the characters, just my little bit o'
fun.

---

Sitting in the outer office, Q surreptitiously wiped his sweaty palms
on his pants.  He hated these things.  What more could he say but
that he hadn't lied on his resume and that he wanted to work for the
company?  He'd been working on his handshake and smile.  What more
was there?  And why was it taking so  long?  He'd gotten here on time
(well, a few minutes early), and he was just sitting here and sitting
here.

"Mr. Q?" the secretary asked.  "Mr. Picard will see you now."

She gave him a lipsticky smile as he walked through to the office.

Wood paneling, something of a walk to the black vinyl chairs in front
of Mr. Picard's imposing desk.  The supervisor looked up welcomingly
at Q's approach and invited him to shake his hand and sit down.

Q contained the small shiver that ran through him.  What a voice! Nice
grip on that handshake as well.

"Well, I see you have a great deal of experience working with
computers," that voice said.  "In fact, you seem well qualified in
many ways.  Indeed, there's no reason for you not to know that I've
yet to find such an attractive candidate for this position."

"Thank you, Mr. Picard."

"Oh, please.  It's Jean-Luc."

"That's French, isn't it?"

"Yes.  What's 'Q?'"

"Uh, Italian."

Picard raised an eyebrow.

"Northern Italian."

"I see."  Picard was looking over his resume now.  Q became aware of
an overwhelming desire to scratch his own nose.  "You realize that in
this position you will be working directly under me?"

"Yes, sir."

Picard smiled faintly.  "You have no problem with that?"

Q was confused.  "Of course not, sir."

"I'm glad to hear it."  Picard set down the resume and looked at Q
carefully, eyes slightly narrowed.  Q began to feel uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."  Picard drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk.  "I
was just wondering if you're really as qualified as you look."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that I can't really judge things from here."

"Would you like to see me in action?  On the computer?"

"In action would be good."  Picard stood up from the desk and Q stood
as well, looking around for a computer.  The man laughed.  "You
really are new at this, aren't you?"

Q looked increasingly puzzled.  His wool suit felt horribly hot and
his palms were moist again.  "I don't understand."

"So I'm beginning to realize."  Picard's hazel eyes began to glitter,
and Q began to guess at what was going on.  His sense of
righteousness and indignation battled with his finances.  He really
needed this job.  It was so convenient, and the benefits were great.
Now that he had Mrs. Q and the two baby Qs to support, he needed a
steady source of income.

But this wasn't to be tolerated.  This sort of thing was illegal!

"I don't believe you should be talking to me like this," Q said with
only half the forcefulness he had planned.

Picard actually laughed.  "Come now.  We all do things we strictly
shouldn't, I believe.  We're both adults here.  Life is made up of
compromises and understandings.  We could have quite a comfortable
bargain between us.  It's a  good job, and you'll find me to be a
very...understanding boss."  The deep  voice dropped just slightly.
"You really are extremely attractive.  Your mouth is quite
extraordinary."

Q tried diplomacy.  "I'm sure your position here gives you access to
all sorts of people who would be willing to do...whatever you want.
This is a very big company..."

"And if you're thinking you can apply to another department," Picard
growled,  "I think you should know that my evaluation will be
available to anyone who wishes it.  One wrong word from me, and I
think I can guarantee that you will  not only not be hired here, but
nowhere else in this city."

Q shook inside.  Picard's name had been the first he'd heard when he
came to town, and he'd heard it several times since.  The man wasn't
bluffing about the power he wielded.  The dark eyes dropped their
gaze to the floor.

"What," said very small, "do you want?"

"You really are lovely," Picard purred now, a strong hand coming up to
rest on  Q's shoulder.  "I think we're going to get along fine."  The
hand was pressing  down now, and Q knew what was expected of him.

He sank to his knees carefully, reluctantly, thinking of the role
which he was expected to perform in his life.  So many people were
depending on him.  Perhaps in time he could get promoted away from
this, or perhaps a transfer.  Picard would surely get bored with him
in time

Q saw with surprise that his hands were actually shaking as he brought
them up to the opening of Picard's pants.  Carefully, he lowered the
zipper and reached inside.

"Oh, yes," Picard murmured.  "That's it.  Nice and slow.  You're such
a pretty thing.  Take me in your mouth and suck me."

Picard was big and hard as a rock, Q saw, bringing out his penis and
evaluating the job ahead of him.  He licked the soft tip and couldn't
help responding to the power of Picard's shivers by growing slightly
hard himself.  Slowly, knowing this would all be pointless if he
didn't do this right, Q took  the head in his mouth and pressed his
lips down along the sides, sucking gently, then hard, then gently
again.  He kept his teeth away from the thin  silk of him, swirling
his tongue around, while his hands held back the material of his
pants and fingered his warm balls.

"Oh, yes.  Yes.  That's it.  You're so good."  Picard was rocking his
hips  now, thrusting into him, and Q, noting that he did not grab him
by the head, took him in all the way, massaging him with his mouth
and throat, and Picard's  groans grew louder and more indistinct.  Q
felt the man's sac tighten and  sucked even harder and Picard came in
hot spurts down his throat.  Q swallowed and swallowed, holding him
inside until the man slumped forward.  When it was clear that Picard
was quite finished, Q released him and stood.  Picard's smile was
almost rueful as he noticed Q's erection, and he went to say something
when Q smiled.

Unpleasantly.

"So do I get the job now?" Q asked clearly.

A little puzzled, Picard nevertheless nodded and fastened up his
pants.  "I'd  say you were immanently qualified," he smirked.

Q nodded and brought something out of his pocket.  A badge, Picard
saw, his face going a little pale.

"Department of Internal Affairs," Q announced.  "We've had a complaint
about you, Mr. Picard."

"I don't...I don't..."

"Did you really think you could abuse your authority so flagrantly and
no one would notice?  The company has never stood for this sort of
thing, and I'm going to take personal satisfaction in seeing to it
that you receive the maximum penalty under both company policy and
state law."

"I don't...please, can't we..."

Q sneered  "How the mighty have fallen, Mr. Picard."

The man looked at him desperately.  "Isn't there something we can do?
Isn't there something you want?  My job is everything to me."

"Something I want?"

"Yes!  If you don't destroy me, I could help you in Internal Affairs.
I know the director very well."

I'm happy with my career as it is."

"I have some money put away..."

"I'm not interested in your money."

"Please," Picard was pleading openly now.  "Isn't there something?
I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

Q smiled again and stepped back towards the desk.  Swinging his right
arm, he pushed everything on it to the floor:  a cascade of post-it
notes and telephones and pens and ledgers.  Meeting Picard's wide
eyes, Q jerked his head to the flat, bare surface.  Picard gulped.

Q snorted.  "I don't have all day."

"Er," Picard said.  "Just like that?"

Q crossed his arms and sighed.  Picard took the chance and sprinted
into his private bathroom, coming back out a moment later holding a
small tube.  He handed the tube to Q, dropped his pants and bent over
his desk.

"Spread your legs wider," Q instructed, looking over the tube.  Nice
thick lubricant.  Picard complied, trembling.  Q walked behind him,
and Picard heard the sound of unfastened pants.  Long fingers quickly
and efficiently prepared him.

Picard groaned at the heat from those fingers, and Q laughed.  "If I
didn't know better, I'd say you wanted me to fuck you."

Uncertain of his role, Picard settled for sheer honesty.  "I do."

"How much?"

"Desperately."

Q chuckled and reached a warm, oily hand around Picard's hip to find
the erection pressing against the cool desk.

"We're going to be working in this building together for some time," Q
said as he got into position and began to press himself inside the
man's tight ass.  It felt so good.  "And we'll be seeing each other a
lot."

"Ohhhhh," Picard said.

"If you expect me to keep quiet about you, I expect you to behave
yourself."

"Oh, yes.  Yes, sir."

Q was in all the way now, and he rested there a moment, buried inside
Picard, his cock pounding out the human rhythm of desire.  The man
stirred, almost a  protest against the waiting, and Q pressed down
against his back, stilling  him.

"I want to know that I can come in here anytime I want and fuck you."

"Yes.  Anytime you want."

As a reward, Q began to thrust a little bit, smiling at Picard's
little  whimpers.  "In fact, I want you to be prepared whenever you
see me for me to fuck you."

"Yes, sir."

"If we're ever on an elevator together, you'll wait until the others
leave and then you'll go down on me."

"Yes, sir.  Seems appropriate, sir."

Q laughed and began to thrust with force now, letting up the pressure
on Picard's back and letting the man move with him.  He was so tight,
so hot, so  strong, and so perfect.

"You're such a sweet fuck," Q growled.  "You're dick candy, you know
that?"

Picard made an indistinct noise and Q knew his face was flushed.

"Say it," Q ordered.

Picard moaned.

"Say it or I'll pull out."  Q thrust a bit harder.

"I'm...dick candy."

"I'll fuck you on lunch break," Q said in a lilting sing-song.  "On
coffee  break, after work and before.  I want you to come in to the
office early and just stand here and wait for me to come and fuck
you."

"Yes, sir.  I'll just wait for you to come and to fuck me."

"Ughhh," Q said.  He was close.  He thrust harder still, bearing down,
angling his hips.  Picard was groaning and moving against him.
"Except...sometimes...I'll want you to...fuck me with your gorgeous
cock."  Q laughed, though it sounded primarily like a groan.

"My pleasure," panted Picard, gripping Q's cock hard with his muscles.
"You're dick candy too, my love."

Q groaned then for real and lost it, thrusting forward hard and
pouring out his seed deep in his lover's body.  Picard came a second
later, white liquid  splashing across the desk, and for a time they
just remained there, bent over the desk together, panting.

Q turned his head and kissed Picard's shoulder.  "You won this time,
Mon  Capitaine."

"Hmmmm," Picard said.  "So I did."  He thought a moment.  "All right,
next time I'll be an out-of-work Shakespearean actor, and you'll be
the  unscrupulous casting director."

Q laughed, moving his hips carefully so that, even though soft, his
penis remained inside Picard and moved just slightly.  The man
moaned.

"Very unscrupulous."

--

The End