Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!torn!nott!cunews!freenet.carleton.ca!FreeNet.Carleton.CA!bb106 From: bb106@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (JoAnne Soper-Cook) Subject: Still More Q... Message-ID: Sender: bb106@freenet.carleton.ca (JoAnne Soper-Cook) Organization: The National Capital FreeNet, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada Date: Sat, 4 Feb 1995 14:39:32 GMT Lines: 550 Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:5621 Another Turn of the Q Anna Mithrais watched the console scrolling its display by in front of her, seeing nothing. She was unaware that she was frowning slightly, her dark brows clenched in a habitual expression of distaste, her hazel-green eyes crinkled very slightly at the corners. After four straight hours of going through the files on the inhabitants of Menos Two, she could find absolutely nothing that would explain Devrae Vil-kolait-Homra having the Aldeberan night sickness. She swore fluently under her breath, a long, colorful stream of profanity that issued cheerfully from her full, curved mouth. "Hey, Mithrais--not bad for a beginner!" A smiling voice erupted in laughter from behind her and she swung around to see Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge, padd in hand. "You take the Academy course?" He referred to the Starfleet Academy course, "Creative Cursing 2380" which had at first been instituted as something of a joke, but quickly grew into a serious course, especially among deep-space candidates who understood the importance of letting off steam. Mithrais had netted one of the best grades in the history of the Academy, and used this knowledge to her advantage. "Beginner?" Mithrais raised an eyebrow, although the blind LaForge obviously couldn't see the gesture. "Saddle up, LaForge- -there's competition riding over your hills." She laughed, heartened by his presence. Mithrais truly appreciated LaForge. He ran Engineering with the skill of a top-flight organiser, but he had a deep vein of humanity and fairness that Mithrais really admired. And, he was a great fan of Ancient Earth jazz music, which Mithrais absolutely adored. "Trouble here?" LaForge leaned over her and gazed at the screen--or did the equivalent of gazing, she supposed. His Visor, which allowed him to see all of the normal spectrum and then some, replaced his sightless eyes. Without it, LaForge would never have made it onto any ship, let alone the Enterprise. "I've been going over these records, but I can't seem to find any reason for that woman having an isolated outbreak of Aldebaran night sickness--it's unheard of in this sector! And she swears she's never been to Aldebaran. I'm stymied." "Does she have an Aldebaran boyfriend?" LaForge chuckled, flashing incredibly even, white teeth. He was quite handsome, Mithrais mused. Even with that visor.... Mithrais sat back, pushed her hair out of her eyes, readjusting her hair-band. "She claims to be observing a period of ritual celibacy.... " Mithrais blew air up into her bangs, a frustrated gesture. "I'm just not sure I believe her." LaForge thought for a moment. "Perhaps you might want to run a contact-contamination series on her--see if she's lying about those Aldebaran boyfriends!" "You sure you don't mind me using these terminals?" Mithrais indicated the computer screen in front of her. "I could use the ones in SIckbay, but Data's routing some diagnostics through there, and it takes ages to get anything up on the screens." "I don't mind a bit," LaForge assented. "Things have been so quiet lately I might just relax for a change!" Mithrais grinned. "Now that would be a first!" She watched him disappear around the corner, doubtless on his way to something important. She scrolled another series of medical files, watched them dispassionately disappearing down the edges of the screen, and rubbed her tired eyes. God, how late was it? "Computer--what is the time?" "The current time is 0100 hours." One o'clock in the morning! God! Had it been that long? Mithrais could imagine Dr. Crusher's response: "Anna, I asked that you be thorough--but not that you kill yourself in the attempt!" The doctor would want to know how she thought sleep deprivation would benefit their relief mission on Menos. Wait a minute-- What the hell...? As Mithrais watched, the information that was scrolling past on her monitor began sliding off the edge of the screen, the letters becoming strangely liquid and pooling on the console buttons in front of her. She stared in amazement as the medical records continued drooling off the screen and dripping, liquified, onto the console. How was this happening? This was impossible-- "LaForge!" It was still happening--she tried to stop the scrolling but the data continued melting down from the screen, pooling in front of her like water. And even more oddly, some of the letters that she had seen melting were now floating on the console, configuring themselves into... ...some kind of message! She leaned closer, peered at it. A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS!!! Huh? "Oh, well, if you're going to be as dull as that..." There was a sudden flash and a man was standing--leaning--against the console. With a gesture, he swept the melted words off the console and onto the floor. He appraised Mithrais, his gaze raking up and down her body until a sly smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He was wearing a Starfleet uniform, Mithrais noticed, silently congratulating herself on retaining her faculties--a Starfleet Captain's uniform. "Sir!" She leapt to her feet, stood immediately to attention. "I was not aware of any visitors, sir--please excuse my oversight." He burst into laughter. His dark, intense eyes crinkled at the corners, as he laughed long and heartily, punctuating it with a resounding slap on his knees. Mithrais' stiff posture faded-- something was definitely amiss here. "I may be risking the Federation Stockade, but who the hell are you?" She faced him, hands on hips. "Oh, a defiant one!" The man leaned in close to her, fixing her with his magnetic gaze. "You know, I like them defiant...it whets the appetite!" Mithrais struck him across the face. And watched the grin slide off, just as her medical data had slid off the monitor and onto the console. His face flushed with anger, the dark, finely-etched brows drawing together. He seemed astonished, though, and was having a difficult time hiding it. "You struck me?!" Mithrais glared at him. "You listen here, you disgusting bag of flesh--if you ever leer at me like that again, you will be carrying your own head in a bag!" He laughed, his cheeks dimpling. His teeth were perfect, and very, very white. "I've never seen you around here before-- who are you? New to the ship?" He walked around her, surveying her with genuine intellectual interest. "What's your position?" "I'm a psychiatric nurse. Now you answer me something--who are you, and how did you get on the ship?" "Oh, you needn't question me, my dear--I come and go as I please. Jean-Luc and I go way back...." His interest in her seemed to fall away as he examined his fingernails. That hit her with a thud. "Jean-Luc?" She sounded stunned, even to her own ears, even though it was one o'clock in the morning. "Jean-Luc Picard?" "Yes, of course--old Johnny and I are good buddies!" Mithrais peered at him, her eyes narrowing. She scanned his aspect with all the instincts of a trained psychiatric nurse, and deduced that he was either a pathological liar, a flagrant narcissist, or telling the truth. "Who are you?" The man took her hand and, bending over it kissed it gallantly in a perfect show of ancient-Earth manners. The brief touch of his lips sent a jolt of energy up her arm that burst in her chest with a faint tingle and a pop. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, either. "Enchantee, my dear--I am known as Q." LaForge burst into Engineering, arms akimbo. "Q!" With a gesture, the man known as Q froze LaForge in his tracks. He then turned back to Mithrais as if absolutely nothing had happened. "Now then, my dear--as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted--" MIthrais gasped. "What have you done to him?" Q glanced at LaForge, frozen in a weirdly comic pose, one arm out in front of him, his mouth open to say something. "Oh nothing that he'll suffer from--or remember." He smiled. "Tell me about yourself." "Not until you change him back--and then you had better tell me the whole truth--" "And nothing but the truth, so help me God--" Q rolled his eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, re-animated LaForge, who came barging right on over-- --and walked through the place where Mithrais and Q had been standing. Mithrais was outside. Outside of the ship, that is. And floating gently in place beside the man called Q. Except that he couldn't be any kind of normal humanoid man, or he--and she as well--would be deader than dead right now. "Now then, let's have a little discussion--" He gestured, and she was clasped in his arms, face-to-face with him. She had to admit, it wasn't exactly horrible, but it was a bit sudden. "Could you let go of me--I just met you!" She pushed against his arms, found she could not move him. "Are you going to rape me now?" His arms fell away, and the expression on his face changed so abruptly it was like a cold weather front building in over land. His eyes were dangerous. "I--" He was speaking slowly, but enunciating every word very clearly so that there could be no mistaking his meaning, "Have never, in all my vast existence--" "You froze poor Geordi!" Mithrais pushed against his chest with her palms. "Oh, I froze poor Geordi!" He pushed her away from him with an expression of distaste. "Poor Geordi doesn't even know that anything happened to him. He is safe inside your precious ship, and no more enlightened about anything than he was five minutes ago! Do you think I roam about doing harm to members of your...admittedly, underdeveloped...species?" He folded his arms and regarded her, floating in space. "Do you?" She couldn't get a handle on him at all! It was beginning to frustrate her--that, and not being able to figure out how she was hanging suspended in space and not dead yet. "I most certainly do not." His gaze slid away from hers, and the corners of his mouth quirked in the smile that never seemed to be very far away. "I have been entertained by your species, on occasion--and ask your captain if I haven't intervened the odd time to save his mangy hide!" He pouted. "Truly, you wound me!" He snapped his fingers. And he and Mithrais were in Picard's ready room. Picard, it must be said, had no forewarning of their impending arrival, and was caught at the desk with Doctor Beverly Crusher sitting facing him on his lap. "Hello, Jean-Luc!" Q crooned. He affected a pose of shock. "Doctor Crusher--I had no idea!" Mithrais, standing in the presence of her Captain and her boss, one sitting in the lap of the other, wanted to melt into the floor. She could seriously see a future for herself doling out anti-psychotic drugs on Menos Two.... "Q!" Picard leapt to his feet, unmindful of Doctor Crusher, who went spilling to the floor, landing on her backside with a small cry of alarm. She caught sight of Mithrais on the way down and popped back up with cheeks that were colored bright scarlet. Picard was livid. "What is the meaning of this?!" Q draped himself over Picard's vacated chair, his feet on the desk. "Meaning? Why does everything have to have a meaning? Some things, Johnny boy, have no meaning!" His eyes slid sideways to where Beverly Crusher was trying to regain some dignity while zipping up the front of her uniform. "Correct, Doctor?" His grin widened. "Oh, pretty lingerie, by the way...." Crusher leapt for him. "Doctor!" Picard gave her a look. "Please, return to your quarters." "Jean-Luc, I can--" "Doctor, not now!" Picard was pleading with her. "Please." Q waved as Crusher left. "Bye-bye Doctor!" He turned to Picard--"You know, Jean-Luc, I knew James Kirk when he commanded the Enterprise." He paused, looking thoughtful. "And I would have to say that his relationship with his Chief Medical Officer took a rather different form than does yours. Of course, I always said that I could never picture Kirk and Bones together-- no, Spock always struck me as more Jim's type, you know?" "Get out of my chair! Get off my ship! Get out of my life!" Picard thundered to Q. And to the replicator, "Tea! Earl Grey-- hot, dammit!" "Have I embarrassed you, Jean-Luc?" Q tutted sympathetically. "Now I feel simply awful about it--let me make it up to you!" Picard looked alarmed. "No!" He seemed to see Mithrais for the first time. "Commander, would you like to explain your presence here at this hour? I would think you had gone off-duty long ago." Mithrais colored under Q's scrutiny. "Ah, no, sir--I'm doing some extra research for Doctor Crusher--for our relief mission down on Menos. I was down in Engineering, making use of the consoles down there--" Picard rubbed his forehead, sighed. "Commander, the condensed version, if you please--" He peered over the top of his hand. "Have you been hanging around Data or something?" Q guffawed. Mithrais related the pertinent events. Picard sipped tea. Q lay on the sofa, contemplating the ceiling and eating an apple that he seemed to have conjured from somewhere. "Commander--you are free to go. I suggest you go to your quarters and go to sleep." Mithrais nodded. "Aye, sir--thank you!" "Seeya later," Q caroled, as she left. What an odd dream, Mithrais thought, turning over onto her right side. She felt the delicious tug of sleep and was just about to surrender and slide down into it, when... "Hello, my dear--did you miss me?" A hand lifted the covers on the opposite side of the bed, althought Mithrais could see nothing. The voice, she knew, was Q's, but he must have been making himself invisible, because she just couldn't see him. She watched as a bump grew under the covers, slid closer to the wall. The bump took the shape of a body and coalesced into Q, complete with what looked like silk pajamas. "Get out!" Mithrais slammed herself back against the wall, her heart pounding in her throat. She willed herself to stay conscious, but it was coming back, it was creeping up on her.... ...four Cardassians, and that stinking little room on Caltinos Seven, and the heat, and the flies, and they kept at her, and at her, even when she begged them to stop. Opposite her, the dark eyes of the man named Q widened, then clamped down into angry ovals. He'd read her mind. His face was taking on the contours of disbelief, then shock and anger, then empathy as he felt her pain... She thought dimly, still clenched against the wall, that he must be a very powerful telepath--for it was obvious that he had gotten all of it, every nuance. "My God." Or at least it sounded like that. Mithrais had trouble hearing him through the roaring in her ears, and his voice had been little more than a whisper. And then his gaze changed, and something was happening inside Anna Mithrais's mind. She felt the nightmare memory fading, felt a deep and peaceful calm coming over her. It wasn't the narcotic, false calm of someone who was trying to take over her mind, bend her to his will--it was genuine, soothing, comforting. She bent her head and sobbed, feeling the horrible memory recede into the mists of nothingness as the warm, safe calm of the Q washed over her. She lay back down on her side, her cheek against the pillow like a child. She was being passed a cup of cold, delicious water and told to drink it, and then she was wrapped in her blankets and gently, mysteriously, lulled to sleep. She slept until the computer woke her. Q was gone. But the table in her quarters had been set for her breakfast, and there was a padd lying beside the plate. She picked it up and read what was on it. I'M SORRY. Hmmm...Curiouser and curiouser. Mithrais padded across the carpeted floor to the replicator. "Computer, has a breakfast selection been programmed for Commander Anna Mithrais?" "A selection of Thelosian spring fruit, Andorian wafer bars, and fresh grape juice," the Computer intoned. All of her favorite things...how on Earth did he know? "But you see, my dear, I merely anticipated your needs." Q flashed into existence at the breakfast table, wearing his Starfleet uniform and a grin. Mithrais jumped when he appeared, quickly recovered. "I'm never going to get used to that," she murmured. She recived her food and carried it to the table. "Computer--" "A pot of mocha java, hot and strong, a basin of sugar and a pitcher of half-and-half cream." Q finished for her. His long, elegant fingers toyed with a napkin as Mithrais took her seat opposite him. "Are you feeling better this morning?" His dark, intense gaze seemed to bore into her. "I'm really sorry about that--" Q waved a hand airily. "Don't bother being embarrassed. Really, I shouldn't have crept up on you like that--I assure you, I had no idea you had been..." The corners of his mouth tucked, a quick gesture that betrayed some strong emotion. "...mishandled by those Cardassians...." He gave her a solemn look. "I truly am sorry if I caused you any untoward distress." Q watched as Mithrais daintily broke off a corner of a wafer bar, brought it to her mouth, watched as her ripe lips closed around it. She was so elegant, so...sensuous.... It gave him substantial pleasure just watching her.... "You staring at me?" Her mouth full of wafer bar, Mithrais glared at Q. "Of course not!" He tucked his bottom lip in. Caught! "You were!" "Nonsense--you humans are all so self-centred! Why would I be staring at you?" Q had a desperate need to get immediately off the subject, and leaned forward to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Can you do that?" Mithrais asked, watching him with interest. He deftly dropped two cubes of sugar into his cup and poured off half the jug of cream. "Can I do what?" He peered at her over the rim of the cup. "I didn't realise you could drink coffee--" Q took a long sip of the hot drink, laid the cup down carefully. "When I am in this form, young lady, I can do anything one of your lumpen humanoid males can." He seemed a bit miffed. Mithrais gave him a long, speculative glance. "Perhaps you'd better tell me a little about yourself, Mr. Q." Q's eyebrows popped up. "Anything...." Anna Mithrais and Q were walking at a vigorous pace along the corridors of Deck Twelve, heading towards Sickbay. "I cannot believe that a supposedly omnipotent being such as you would feel the need to hang around and torment the humans aboard this ship!" Mithrais had a med-kit in one hand and a medical tricorder in the other. She stepped neatly around a male nurse as the Sickbay doors slid open and continued talking. "I mean, don't you have anything better to do?" "You don't like me very much, do you?" Q was keeping pace with her easily. "Ah, the redoubtable Doctor Crusher!" He greeted Mithrais's boss as she stepped away from a biobed. "Feeling chipper and rested this morning?" "I really don't have time, Q!" Crusher's voice held a dangerous warning note, and her lustrous red hair was disheveled. And with good reason: Mithrais had been summoned from her breakfast with the news that one Menosian woman had somehow during the night managed to start a city-wide outbreak of Aldebaran night sickness, and seemingly without leaving the comfort of her sickbed. Crusher was at wits end, and desperately needed every available hand. "Mithrais, I want you to take an escort and go down to Menos and see what relief efforts you can mount. We'll need to get--" "Doctor--" Mithrais touched Crusher's arm. "There's not a whole lot we can do--you know that." She watched as the other woman struggled against this indictment for a brief moment, then subsided with a look of resignation. Crusher's bright blue eyes dimmed for a moment with unshed tears, and she brushed a hand across her eyes angrily. "I'm talking damage control, Mithrais-- containment, for God's sake!" She pressed a hand to her forehead. "We've got seventeen hundred people in Menos City going very rapidly insane and infecting the others." Crusher noticed Q still standing there, raked him with a contemptuous gaze. "I'd think that you, with all your omnipotent powers would make some gesture of assistence!" Q blanched, his mouth opening on nothing. He stared at Crusher for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "I might." Crusher turned slowly from the diagnostic panel she was encoding. "What did you say?" Q stepped forward until they were standing eyeball-to- eyeball. "I said: I might be able to help." "I'm listening." "You have a population of seventeen hundred that is already infected with Aldebaran night sickness. I can help them." Crusher's temper matched her red hair. "Well then, why don't you, dammit?!" Q folded his arms across his chest and regarded her blandly. "I'm waiting for you to say please." Mithrais gaped at him. "PLEASE!" "Done." When Mithrais was able to see, she realised that Q had deposited himself and her on Menos Two. And right in the middle of the worst devastation, by the looks of things. She stepped out of the way as two women and a man went barrelling past her, obviously in the last stages of the disease, and convinced that something was chasing them. "What kind of a disease is this, anyway?" Q was peering about him with distaste, his pristine uniform and unblemished mien strangely at odds with the scene around them. Mithrais had her medical tricorder out and was busy scanning the surrounding area for evidence of the virus. "I thought you were omnipotent," she snarled. "You forget whom you're talking to." Mithrais straightened, shoved a wayward lock of dark hair out of her eyes. She stared at Q for a long moment, trying to decide if he was sincere. "It's a viral form of mental illness-- it starts when the virus enters the bloodstream through any small cut or break in either the mucous membranes or the skin..." Q made a face. "Yuk." Mithrais laughed mirthlessly, a hollow sound. "'Yuk' doesn't even cover it, Q. From there it implants in the neuro-ganglion cells of the brain and begins manufacturing its viral DNA, which is injected into the host cells and replicated from there." She kicked aside an overturned cart of some kind, probably used to haul produce or market wares. "The individual who is initially infected usually comes by the virus in one of two ways: deliberate injection, and sexual contact. In the initial stages of the disease, the patient usually presents with nausea, tiredness, general malaise. This lasts about forty-eight hours. From there, if not arrested immediately, the condition develops into low-level hallucinations and delusions, usually persecution fantasies and nightmares. It can often be arrested with antibiotics." Mithrais spoke without emotion, as if reading from a diagnostic report. "Without treatment, however, the patient's condition progresses to full-blown dementia, violent delusions, degrading from there into grand mal epileptic seizures. Death follows in three to six hours." Q was silent. When he finally spoke, it was with effort. "Truly, I didn't realise--please forgive me. I spoke hastily." His dark eyes were contrite. "I'll do whatever I can to help." He gazed around him at the devastation. "I just don't know if it will be enough." With Q's help, Mithrais and a team from the Enterprise managed to inoculate the infected citizens, although four people were in the final stages of the disease and could not be helped. Mithrais contacted Dr. Crusher and arranged for them to be placed in palliative care aboard the ship, so that they would at least have a comfortable and dignified death. Q not only used his considerable powers to help those who were ill, but also effected successful containment of the virus, eradicating it from the face of Menos Two. To Anna Mithrais's surprise, he worked alongside the Enterprise team, helping with the inoculations and restraining those who, caught in the disease's clutches, had become violent. Six hours after beam-down, the outbreak of Aldebaran night sickness had been arrested on Menos Two. The doors of Holodeck Three slid open with a pneumatic hissing sound, to admit Anna Mithrais. She had showered and changed into her favorite off-duty outfit of loose pants and top, and her short hair was pulled off her face in a band. She sighed in contentment, breathing deeply in the simulated landscape that so reminded her of her home on Earth. The low, rolling hills carpeted with spruce and tamarack, the dusky granite cliffs stretching eagerly out into the crashing surf. The simulation was so real, that she could almost smell sea-salt in the air. She climbed her favorite granite outcropping, from where she could sit and watch the sea. She took the hill in easy stages, pacing herself, and when she reached the top she wasn't winded, but rather refreshed. "Hello, my dear." Mithrais turned as Q stepped out of a stand of tamarack trees. He was, amazingly, wearing rugged denim pants, hiking boots, and a fisherman-knit sweater. It suited him, Mithrais thought--he looked like a young fisherman from home, pulling into the harbour at nightfall. "Q! I wondered where you had gone." Mithrais indicated the space beside her. "Please--won't you join me?" There was silence as Q sat beside her, gazing out over the pastoral scene. "This is a reproduction of your home." He turned sideways to look at her. The manufactured sea-breeze caught his dark hair and ruffled it like a playful hand. "Newfoundland--on Earth, correct?" Mithrais nodded. "Yeah. I haven't been home in a long, long time." Q drew his knees up, hugged them thoughtfully. "I could remedy that, you know." His dark eyes scrutinized her with a dawning respect. "That was some job you did on Menos." Mithrais felt suddenly foolish, and took to picking at a ragged fingernail. "I couldn't have managed without your help." She paused her picking to look up at him suddenly. "Why are you sometimes so infuriating, and at other times so...incredible?" She laid a hand on his sweater-covered shoulder. "I mean, we really got off on the wrong foot, and I had you pegged as a troublemaker--until you stepped in on Menos when I needed you." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently, lingering near him to breathe in his subtle, pleasant scent. She felt his hands on her arms. "How did you know so much about Aldebaran night sickness?" he asked, drawing back to fix her with a look. "That wasn't from any medical journal." Mithrais looked away, out to sea. The sun was just setting behind the light-house, spilling golden light on the ocean. "I was kidnapped about eight years ago by a squad of Cardassian renegades off Aldebaran Three. It was my first mission out of the Academy." She continued staring into the brilliant, sun-lit sea, not looking at him. "They were intent on retaliation for what they called, 'Federation Crimes Against the Cardassian People'." Mithrais bit her lip, hesitating. "The shuttle pilot and I were the only two not killed in the phaser barrage they pelted us with. We were taken to an empty munitions warehouse on the edge of some Cardassian city. They beat Thoros to death when he refused to talk." Her voice faltered. "It's all right." Q took her hands in his. "I'm listening." Mithrais sighed. "Oh, it's been eight years--long time ago, now." She squeezed his hands and released them. "Since they couldn't get any information out of Thoros, they decided to have some fun with me. One of them had Aldebaran night sickness, and he gave the virus to me." Q's face was darkening with an ill-concealed rage--not directed at her, Mithrais knew, but at her nameless tormentors. "How long were you held?" His voice held an edge that Mithrais hadn't heard before. "Seventeen days--then the U.S.S. Hood was dispatched to find us. Captain Kender sent out a team and they brought me home." "My God." "Yeah! I was well into the third and final stage when they sent for this new doctor, this doctor that they said would give me the best chance of all." Mithrais smiled. "Her name was Beverly Crusher, and she was the closest thing to an angel that I'd ever seen!" She laughed, turning to Q. "You must think this is really stupid." In answer, Q tilted her face in his hand and kissed her, his warm, open mouth caressing her with a world of gentleness. Mithrais shifted in his arms and responded, wrapping herself in his embrace and returning his kiss enthusiastically. She felt his body as he recieved her caress, felt the crackle of alien, omnipotent power just under his skin. And for the first time, she realised that he was just about the most desirable thing she'd found in a long time. She drew away from him, tracing the contours of his face with her fingers. "I would never hurt you," he said quietly, the phrase a promise. "But I can show you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, and gift you with my deepest affections." His hand smoothed her face. Mithrais giggled. She suddenly felt light and joyful. "Can you do that?" She asked. Q grinned, and his dimples appeared. "Can I drink coffee?" THE END!!! -- JoAnne ("Oh night that was my guide, oh night! more loving than the rising sun..." St. John of the Cross)