The BLTS Archive- What the Q Saw
by Reesa (skbtf@mediaone.net)

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As we all know, Paramount owns the rights to Star Trek and anything
and everything connected to it.  Me, I've got this story and whole lot
of fancy exercise equipment going to waste.  Hey, Paramount, I'd
trade, but I need something to collect the dust.

Feel free to archive, but make sure my name stays on this.

Way back when I wrote "Distant" (a whole two weeks ago), I had a scene
where my "longing for Jean-Luc" Q has to Picard and Crush make love.
When I began editing, I cut the scene because it seemed way too cruel
and because it would have created plot problems in the follow up
stories.  (Okay, mostly it was for the second reason.)  However, I did
save the scene for future use.  Little did I realize how fast that
future would arrive.

During the course of responding to feedback from Admiral Tag, I
mentioned the scene, knowing her interest in P/C.  She very nicely
asked if I would consider finishing the scene, but could I still have
Q watching?  Hey, why not.  I'll just find a Q from a different
universe than the Q I wrote about and see how he feels about it.  The
first two Qs wouldn't hear of it, but the third had no problems at
all.

To make a long story short (too late), this story is dedicated to the
lovely Admiral Tag, who sent such nice feedback (hint, hint) I just
had to write the story she requested.  Oh, and Admiral?  Two things. 
One, you don't need to kiss my feet or my keyboard to get me to write
P/C, and, two, there maybe more where this came from.

Allrighty.  On to mood music.  Kind of hard to find a song about a Q
watching two humans have sex.  So let's just settle for anything by
Herb Alpert just because my mom like him.  Hey, she's never going to
read any of my stories.  This is as close as she'll ever get.

---

Oh, my.  Another dreary Starfleet reception to observe how the captain
and the crew of the starship Enterprise deal with some minor
diplomatic crisis.  More useless little beings running around like
rats in a maze trying to find the cheese at the center.  Let me help. 
It's over on the buffet table.  I don't know why I'm even wasting my
time...hello, what's this?  If I didn't know better (and since I'm Q I
do) I would swear I just saw Johnny give the annoying Dr. Crusher some
kind of signal.

Oh, definitely a signal.  Both of them are edging out of the room. 
My, my, Johnny.  What has gotten into you? Sneaking out of diplomatic
functions and with your chief medical officer.  What would the
Starfleet brass think?

Ah, there she is, waiting the corridor.  The redoubtable Dr. Crusher. 
Meeting to arrange a time for breakfast?  Well, Johnny, I didn't know
you had it in you to be so rough. Pushing dear Beverly up against the
wall like that, pushing your lips on hers, and then forcing open her
mouth with your tongue.  And, really, Johnny, just reaching back to
cup her ass, pulling her hips forward to met your own.  Where's the
romance?  Where's the foreplay?

Apparently, Bev isn't expecting any since she seems to be returning
that kiss wholeheartedly.  I'd love to say she's got her fingers in
your hair, but you don't have any, so how about I just say they're on
the back of your head, hmmm?

Finally, you manage to pull your lips away.  Looks like it took a good
deal off effort since you had to practically wrench your lips from
Bev's.  As you both catch your breath, I wonder how I could have
missed this.  I'll have to go back later and see when Bev stopped
coming over for breakfast and when she became breakfast.

By Q, Johnny!  You finally get your voice back and what do you say,
"Your quarters or mine?"   How cliche.  I expect so much better of
you.  Apparently, Beverly doesn't, since she just smiles like it was
some kind of joke and whispers back, "Mine.  It's closer."

I can not believe what I'm seeing.  You grab for her hand like some
randy teenager, and then the two of you practically run off to her
quarters.  What has possessed you, Jean-Luc?

Better tag along.  Only in the interest of observing human behavior,
of course.  What you and Beverly do on a personal level is of not
interest at all to me.  This is merely scientific observation.  That's
all.

Whoops!  Missed some of the action.  They made it to Bev's place. 
Hopefully, they were not necking the turbolifts.  That's for junior
officers, not senior staff.

Oooh!  Now it's Bev's turn to be the aggressor.  She's practically got
her entire body pressed up against Jean-Luc's.  I have to admit Bev's
got style.  She got Johnny half out of his uniform and hasn't broken
liplock once.  Why, Bev, I underestimated you.  Ah, but I see that
Jean-Luc is returning the favor.  Once he pushes down the top half of
that ugly, gray uniform, he quickly slides his hands up under your
shirt.

What's this?  A gasp from Jean-Luc.  What are you hiding under there,
my dear?  What ever it is, it's enough for Jean- Luc to stop kissing
you long enough to try and speak coherently.

"Beverly, you're not...you don't have...you mean all through the
reception..."

Nice to see the suave, sophisticate captain thrown off his game.  Bev
seems to be enjoying it, too, since she looks like the cat that ate
the canary.  With a smile, she guides Johnny's hand from her chest
down her stomach and into the lower half of her uniform.  From the
second gasp elicited from Jean-Luc, I'm guessing Bev's only wearing
six pieces of clothing, including boots and socks.

However much (or little) she has on, I'd bet that it isn't going to be
on for much longer.  I win.  With his free hand, Jean-Luc has managed
to rip the front of her shirt open. His other hand seems reluctant to
leave paradise, and not that Bev's too anxious for him to move it
either.  Nope, she's trying to help the process along by toeing off
her boots.  Well, what do you know?  I was wrong.  Bev's only had on
four pieces of clothing.  She isn't wearing socks.

With her boots out of the way, Bev frees herself from the rest of her
clothes.  Standing before me, naked, I now realized why human males
want to throw females on the ground and cover them with their bodies. 
It's so they won't have to look at the naked females anymore.  Yucky.

See, what I mean, Jean-Luc barely looks at Beverly before throwing
himself at her with enough force to take them both to the floor. 
Naturally, being a gentleman, Jean-Luc takes the brunt of the fall,
but once they're down there, he's right on top of her.

Both of them are working hard to get his clothes off. Looks like
animal passion has taken over.  No soft lights, no mood music, no bed. 
None of that.  This is just passion at its most basic.  The constant
deep, wet kisses.  The hands roaming all over each other's bodies, too
impatient for the feel of the other to stop and investigate.  The
pressing of Jean-Luc's hardness onto that secret spot of Beverly's. 
All of it adding to the moment.  Pushing both of them to the edge.

Pulling back slightly, Jean-Luc reaches down, and once he positions
himself, slams hard into Beverly.  Damn, the good doctor has quiet the
set of lungs on her.  If I had eardrums the scream from that climax
could have practically burst them.

Oh, but you're not finished yet, are you, Bev?  No.  Your whole being
is focused on arching your hips up to meet Johnny's thrusts down. 
Hard and fast.  Over and over. Looking into each other's eyes.  Unable
to tear your gaze away.  Both of you working to send the other to the
edge. Not in competition (even I can see that), but to give the other
that sweet madness.

Looks like Jean-Luc's going to cheat a little.  He's sliding his hand
down Bev's body to find that spot guaranteed to drive a woman crazy. 
Look, it does work.  Bev's going over for a second time, but fear not,
Johnny's going over right behind her.  The look on their faces is
closer to agony than ecstasy.  Flush with passion, warm with the heat
of their love, one could almost say the two of them actually
look...cute.  Cute in the same way baby Skalavia Slime Devils are
cute.  You know, so ugly, they're cute.

Waiting for Johnny to gather enough strength to roll of Beverly is
boring.  All they're doing is lying there, breathing hard. 
Occasionally, Jean-Luc will drop a kiss on her neck or Bev will run a
hand slowly up and down his back.  But that it.  No talking, just
quiet contentment.  I hate quiet contentment.

Finally, he manages to pull himself together enough to get off
Beverly.  Rolling to his side, he looks down on her. Watching his face
grow all tender and soft as he looks at her makes me want to throw up.

"I love you, Beverly."

"I love you, Jean-Luc."

Oh, please.  Spare me.

"Promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Next time you decide to break dress code regulations, let me know so
I can return the favor."

Great, now they're giggling like Jean-Luc said the funniest thing.

"Think you have the energy to stand up, Captain?"

"I seem to be a bit run down at the moment.  What would you
prescribe?"

"How about a long soak in a nice hot tub with me?"

"Doctor's orders?"

"Doctor's orders."

Great.  Now they're being cute.  That's it I'm out of here. No way I'm
going to watch stand around while Jean-Luc carries Beverly to the
bathroom.  I am not going to watch them sit in that tub and wash each
other all over.  Every nook and cranny.  Stroking every inch of
skin...Hmmm. On second thought, I really didn't want to go back to the
reception anyway.  Maybe I'll just hang around.  Just for a little
while longer.

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The End