The BLTS Archive - CheQ-Mate by Vedek Weyoun (jgray@altoona.com) --- All Star Trek characters are property of and copyright 1999 Paramount Pictures, Inc. --- "Ah, Kathryn. So good to see you again!" Kathryn Janeway closed her eyes in silent anticipation of prolonged annoyance. She knew that voice. "What do you want, Q?" she said as she swiveled her chair to face the omnipotent being standing before her desk. "The sweet sound of a loving welcome! I'm touched," Q spoke in his usual sardonic way. The command red Starfleet uniform he wore seemed to follow the contours of his body more in certain spots than it usually did. Kathryn almost blushed as she realized exactly _which_ contours the uniform was following. "Q, if it's about the 'mating' thing again..." "Of course, it's about the 'mating thing,' ma petite capitaine." Janeway had to give Q his due about one thing: he was persistent. "We could be great together, you know." "The answer is still no," Janeway said. She could be persistent, too, if necessary, and she had no intention of carrying and giving birth to Q's child. "Kathryn, Kathryn...is it me?" Q asked in mock despair. "Don't you find me attractive? If not, I can always be someone else. "I can be your long-lost love," he said, his form becoming Mark's in a flash of light. "I'd know the difference, I think," Janeway said with a wry expression. "Or I can be a more...forbidden love," Q now changed into a replica of Chakotay, looking deep into Janeway's eyes as he came nearer. "We can be together this way, Kathryn." It was Chakotay's voice, too. Oh, god, she thought. No. No! She would _not_ cheapen what she felt for Chakotay by playing pretend with Q. "Sorry, Q. Not even a nibble," she told him, as coolly as she could. She couldn't let him know how close his last gambit had come. If he tempted her with the promise of even a pseudo-Chakotay for very long, she wasn't sure how long she could hold out. Q snapped back to his normal appearance and scowled at her. "What _is_ it with you humans, constantly denying yourselves bliss? Is that any way to exist?" "You presuppose that mating with you would be bliss," Janeway replied with a touch of acid in her voice. "Of course it would," Q walked right through the veiled insult, not even aware of its nature. "I'm Q." "Regardless, I still say no. I'm not carrying your child." Q scowled again, then spun about and strode to the other end of the captain's ready room. He appeared to be struggling with himself over something. Kathryn wondered what he was up to. She considered surreptitiously notifying her crew to be prepared. Almost at the same instant, Q returned to stand in front of her. "All right. I have to bring out the big guns. I didn't want to do this, Kathryn, but you've left me no choice...Coffee." Kathryn was flabbergasted. Coffee? "What does coffee have to do with anything, Q?" "I have coffee." "I have coffee, too," Janeway informed him. "So how does your coffee affect me if I don't need it?" "Ah, but do you have freshly picked and roasted Columbian beans, grown on the slopes of the Andes just this season?" Q looked almost triumphant. Janeway realized that her mouth was watering. Fresh coffee...oh, my. No more replicator rehash. No more ground leola root substitute. Columbian coffee... "And it's yours, on a regular basis..." "...if..." Janeway added dryly, knowing what was coming. And she was now on the horns of a _serious_ dilemma. It wasn't only herself that would be affected by a regular influx of real coffee. She had to think of her crew also. But Chako...Mark! Mark. How could she be unfaithful to Ch...Mark! Damn! Q's performance of a few minutes before had really gotten to her. "I need time to think, Q," Janeway told him. "I can't make a decision like this at a moment's notice." "Of course. I'll return in an hour," he smiled at her. "I _do_ hope you'll come to your senses by then. Rejection is most distressing, even for an omnipotent being!" In a flash of light, he was gone. --- Janeway pondered her options. On the one hand, she wanted nothing to do with Q or whatever omnipotent starbaby he'd father. On the other hand... Coffee. Cafe. Khaffa. Java. Joe. Mud. Oh, my, she thought. Fresh Columbian, almost on tap. Her mouth was watering again. She couldn't make this decision by herself. She needed an objective viewpoint on the situation. Someone who wasn't so immersed in the human condition that he or she couldn't see the true shape of the dilemma, but also wasn't so enamored of their morning coffee that the possibility of a regular shipment of Columbian mountain-grown would bias their advice. There were two possible advisors on the ship. Tuvok was out. For all that he tried to maintain a perfect Vulcan demeanor, she _knew_ he'd find her quandary amusing. That left Annika...Seven. But was she _too_ far removed from human experience to be able to give meaningful counsel? Tom claimed to be teaching her what it was to be human, but from what she'd seen, the lessons seemed mostly to involve chocolate-covered strawberries in the mess hall.* But there was no one else. She couldn't go to Chakotay with _this_. Not with the undercurrent that dominated their friendship. "Janeway to Seven of Nine," she spoke as she tapped her communicator. "Yes, Captain?" Seven's cool, emotionless voice came over the comm. "I'd like to speak with you in my ready room immediately," the captain replied. "I am on my way," the former Borg acknowledged, and cut the channel. "Everything all right, Captain?" she heard Chakotay ask. Damn! She'd forgotten that Seven had begun pulling regular duty shifts. Chakotay was her team leader this week. "Just fine, Mr. Chakotay. I just need to speak with Seven. I apologize for taking her away from your team without conferring with you. I'm afraid I'm not used to her pulling regular duty quite yet." "Not a problem, Captain. Chakotay out." The door alarm beeped, indicating that Seven had arrived. "Enter," Janeway called out. "You wanted to see me, Captain?" Seven asked her as she walked into the ready room. "Yes, I did. Please have a seat. This is going to sound very strange, but I need to ask your advice about something." "It _does_ seem unusual, Captain," Seven agreed, after accepting the offer to sit. "I may not be the best person on the ship to ask for advice. Any opinions I have will most likely be derived from my experiences as Borg, rather than any human feeling." Janeway smiled at her and answered, "That is just what I need. An objective viewpoint. Let me explain _why_ I need your help." The captain told Seven about Q's visit, recounting his interest in producing a child with her, dating from their meeting long before Seven had joined the crew. She also told her of the exchange that Q offered. "He knows the crew quite well," Seven remarked, raising an eyebrow when she was done. "He's omnipotent...not necessarily omniscient, but quite capable of finding out about our collective addiction," Janeway answered with her mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Your problem is rather complex, Captain. On the one hand, you are trying to retain a loyalty to a man you may never see alive again. On the other, you have over 100 crew members who may just flush you out of an airlock if it's ever revealed that you turned this offer down." "Not to mention my own probable desire to flush myself out of an airlock at the thought of enduring 70 years of ground leola root infusion as a substitute for coffee," Janeway added. "I suppose that it may be the Borg conditioning, but I do not understand why you are so concerned with loyalty to a man who no longer exists in any meaningful way for you." Janeway thought about that. _Was_ she conflicted because of Mark? Or was it because of someone else? For all she knew, Mark may have moved on. It had been four years since the Voyager had disappeared in the Badlands. He may have finally come to terms with her "death" and found someone else. So who _was_ she concerned about hurting? She knew, of course. She just didn't want to give voice to the fact, even to herself. "That's not the only reason I'm reluctant," she finally said. "I can't just _mate_ with Q and bear his child and then say goodbye to both of them. No one knows what a Continuum/human hybrid will be like. Will it be born with an adult personality? How long will it take to grow up? What powers will it have? If it _has_ powers, how do you discipline an omnipotent child?" She sighed in frustration. "On the other hand, there's a regular source of fresh coffee to be had." "Slim evidence for the affirmative side of the argument," Seven noted. "Lesson in Humanity Number Forty-One: Never underestimate the intensity of human desire." "Then again," Seven reminded her, "humans are not the Borg. No one else on the ship needs to know that the offer was made. Only you and I know right now, and I will not say anything if you decide to decline the offer. The only advice that I can give you, Captain, is to do what you think is right. Human moral conduct is predicated on a much more individual basis than the Borg. If I have learned anything since my dissimilation, it is that." Seven rose from her chair. "I believe that your hour is almost up, Captain." Janeway checked the chronometer, startled. She was always losing track of time when talking to Seven. Disarming woman; you expected her to be cold and distant and found her conversation fascinating despite her demeanor. "Yes. It's probably best that you return to your duty station. If anyone asks, this was a confidential meeting." "Understood, Captain." Seven began toward the door, then turned back. "Captain..." "Yes, Seven?" "Good luck." "Thank you," Janeway said as the door closed, "Annika." "How touching!" Right on time, the captain thought. "Of course I am," Q answered her unspoken comment. "You don't think I'd be late for my own...well, wedding may be too strong a word. But I wouldn't miss this for the world." "Well, you don't have to worry about missing it," Janeway began, steeling herself. "Because it's not going to happen. I can't do it, Q. I'm sorry." Q's face fell, and he looked at her with an expression of regret. "We really could have been so good, you know. Ah, well! Say 'au revoir' instead of 'goodbye' has always been my motto. I may have lost this battle, sweet Kate, but I carry on the war!" He stalked to the far side of the ready room once again. "You intrigue me, Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway," he said, facing away from her. "It really is a shame that you were born into such an inferior species." He turned about and strode back to her. "You're not going to be moved at this point, are you?" he asked her. "Not likely," she replied. "I've made my decision and you've given me no reason to change it." "You do know that this is a singular honor," Q tried again. "I've never even offered Picard this opportunity! And I've known him much longer." "And I'm fairly certain that his answer would be the same as mine." "He wouldn't be the only one relieved at that, believe me," Q said, then sighed. "Then kiss me, Kate, and I'll be off." "Are you calling me a shrew?" Janeway raised an eyebrow. "Hardly that. Yet, as your Bard also wrote, parting is such sweet sorrow..." "And yet I don't think we should part till it be 'morrow," she rejoined, beginning to enjoy the battle of wits. "Are you finished yet or do you have another show scheduled?" "I do believe Federation women sharpen their tongues," Q countered, sounding annoyed. "Again, I say kiss me, Kate!" "Oh, all right, if it'll get you off my ship," Janeway agreed, and leaned over to place her lips on his cheek. As her lips touched his face, a flash blinded her and Q was gone. Show-off! she thought almost fondly. She decided to analyze _that_ feeling later. Right now, she had a free flow of Columbian coffee to mourn. She sighed and wondered if her integrity was worth that much. "Paris to Janeway," Tom's voice broke into her reverie. "What is it, Lieutenant?" "Cargo Bay 2 is reporting..." Tom broke off, and she could hear his muffled voice speaking to another crewmember, "...are you sure? All right! All right! I'm not calling you a liar, but she'll never believe it..." "Just tell me what's going on, Tom," she ordered, curious. "Cargo Bay 2 is reporting...coffee, Captain. Sacks of Columbian, dated within the last six months. Chief Meyers says there's enough down there to last for at least a year. She has no idea where it came from. Says it just appeared in a flash of light. No transporter activity was detected." Janeway sat back with a bemused expression on her face. So Q could be moved after all. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Tom," she finally answered. "Just tell Andrea to take Cargo Bay 2 out of the storage rotation for now and to get a three of those sacks delivered to Neelix on the double." "Aye, Captain." "Oh, and Tom..." she added. "Yes, Captain?" "I'm granting both you and Seven your next duty shift on onboard liberty. Continue those humanity lessons." Silence came from the comm. "Mr. Paris?" she said, concern in her voice. "Th-thank you, Captain. But may I ask why?" "What did I tell you about a gift horse, Lieutenant?" -- The End