The BLTS Archive - It's the Thought That Counts by Ruth Gifford (ereshkgl@cyberg8t.com) --- In what might possibly be turning into a tradition, I'm writing another P/Q dialog story while shortbread is baking in the oven. I did this last year with "Qonversation," and this year I seem to have done it again. I suppose this could be considered a sequel to "Qonversation," but it doesn't really matter, all you need to know is that P & Q are lovers, and have been lovers for some time. Punctuation notes: nothing really unusual: "" is spoken conversation. ** is telepathic conversation, and <> indicates action. These characters belong to Paramount, but surely, during this season of good cheer, they won't mind that I borrowed them in order to write this little thing. OK to archive in the ASC/ASCEM Archive, the AFQ Archive, and R'rain's Slash Archive, anyone else may feel free to link to the ASC archive for this story. For atara, because I'm here for the *us* and not the games. (c) 1998 --- Christmas Eve: --- "Joyeaux Noel, Jean-Luc!" "Q! Where have you been?" "Shopping. Don't I get a kiss?" "Shopping. Q, since when do nearly-omnipotent entities who are able to create almost anything out of whole cloth need to go shopping?" "You're so cynical. Here, your pants are wrinkled." "No, they aren't." "Yes, they are. Right here." "Mmmm . . . Q, if you keep that up they'll be more than wrinkled." "You seem to be the one keeping it up, Mon Capitaine." "Q . . . ohhhh . . . Stop it! We have to be there in five minutes." "I have a whole four minutes?" "Q! Ahhhh . . . oh God . . . so good . . ." *Still sure you want to go to the party?* "I . . . have to . . ." *Well, since you put it that way . . .* "Ohhh . . . yes . . . Q! YES!" "Q, can I have my pants back now?" "Well, maybe. You want your boring underwear back too?" "Damnit Q!" "Oooo, I just love it when you're butch. No, wear this." "You must be joking." "You don't like it?" "I can't wear that. Q, it's . . ." ". . . perfect. It's perfect." "Q!" "There you go, now you're all dressed again. And don't look grumpy, we're supposed to be there in one minute." --- Later, during the party: --- "So what do you think, Jean-Luc? Are we really ready for it?" "Oh I think so, Beverly. You have some very talented actors . . ." *Blah, blah, blah. Jean-Luc, I can't stop thinking about what you're wearing.* *Neither can I, for more than one reason.* *You're not mad at me?* *Au contraire, mon amour. Of course, if I get what Cory used to call an 'untimely boner' while I talk to Beverly about Shakespeare, she may get the wrong idea.* "Well, Will has said he wants to try something difficult but fun." "Have you thought about "The Merry Wives of Windsor?" "Oh, Jean-Luc, that's perfect! Will! Will, over here!" "Beverly, Captain." "Will, Jean-Luc thinks we should do "The Merry Wives of Windsor." *You're a bitch, Mon Capitaine.* *No I'm not, he'll make a great Falstaff.* *I meant the boner remark. Do you know how good your ass looks from here?* *No and I don't think I want to know.* *Coward. Then again if you get an erection talking to Will, maybe *he'll* get the wrong idea.* "Something funny, Sir?" "Ah, no Will." "Hello Beverly, you look lovely." "Thank you Q." "And you, Will, you ought to wear black more often.* "Hello, Q." * Oh I just can't resist.* "Did I hear you talking about Shakespeare, Beverly?" *Q if you don't get your hand *off* my ass . . .* --- Much Later: --- "Guess what I liked the best, aside from looking at your ass all night?" "The look on Will's face when he opened the gift from you and saw the Horgon and the week for two on Risa." "Well either that, or the look on Beverly's face when I explained that I *had* gotten you a few things but that I couldn't give them to you in public." "Don't snipe, Q." "Jean-Luc, why are we *walking* back to your quarters? I could just . . ." "Halt lift." "Jean-Luc . . . what . . .?" "Shut up, Q. You have teased me all night and now you're going to start paying for it." "If I were actually angry with you, Q, I'd insist on walking the rest of the way." "I *can't* walk, unless I think this away." "What do you think *I've* had to do all night?" "You liked it!" "Yes I did. And you like what I just did to you." "So we're even?" "No, but I'll let it go." "Good. Now it's my turn." "Q!" "Yes, Mon Capitaine?" "What . . ." "Like it?" "I think so . . . it's . . . ah . . ." "It's one of my gifts, it's a . . ." "I *know* what it is!" "Ever worn one?" "Yes, but it didn't feel like this." "Well this one's special." "So it would seem." "Resume lift." "Q! This thing is designed to keep me from . . . I can't walk through the corridors like this." "I was hoping you'd say that. Oh, and Jean-Luc?" "What?" "What did you get me?" "No wait! Not the bedroom!" "So it's in the bedroom, Jean-Luc?" "Yes and don't peek. In fact, can you set aside your powers for the evening?" "For you, Jean-Luc, yes. Uh, is that little . . . accessory I got you going to be a problem?" "Not at all. It will just make *your* gift better." "What?" "Shh. Close your eyes and come with me." "OK. Oh, I love surprises." "Good. Now lie down. No, here like this. And now . . ." "Jean-Luc!" "Should I stop? All you have to do is ask me to, now or later." "Uh . . . no." "Good I was hoping you'd say that. How's your circulation?" "What? Oh, fine. Uh . . . what are you going to do to me?" "Well, it's only Christmas Eve, Q." "Yes, I *know* that!" "So I really shouldn't be doing this at all, yet. Of course if I stretch things out until morning . . ." "Jean-Luc, you're not going to let me . . . until *morning?*" "It's only fair. You put this thing on me and I doubt you were planning on taking it off me anytime soon." "Well, I don't want to play with all my toys before Christmas even gets here." "Exactly, Q. So we'll just play with some of them, non? "Ohhh . . . whatever you say . . . ahhhh . . . Jean-Luc." "I could play with this." "Mmmmmm . . ." "And I shouldn't ignore this." "Please . . . oh yes . . . Jean-Luc!" --- Late Christmas Morning: --- "Here have some more stollen, Jean-Luc." "Q, I am not a Christmas goose. There's no need to fatten me up." "Oh and I was looking so forward to stuffing you." "There's nothing like that omnipotent wit of yours. Besides, you already did that." "Twice." "And how." "Jean-Luc, about what you did to me last night . . ." "Yes?" "No one . . . I mean I've never felt . . . " "Q?" "Why is it that every time we do something new . . . it's so . . . so perfect?" "Well, perhaps it's not. . ." "No, I know why, you don't have to tell me." "Why then?" "Because it's *you* here with *me.* The games, the toys, all of the variations, it's not that they're not fun, but . . . It's really just *us,* isn't it? Who we are and what we are to each other, right?" "Yes, Q, it is. And it always will be." "I love you, Jean-Luc." "J'taime aussi, Q." --- The End