I wrote this story in an attempt to make fun of Voyager's rumored
upcoming storyline which has Q wanting Janeway to have his child. 
Unfortunately, I forgot that trying to parody something brings out
my absolute worst instincts in story writing.  However, I do
promise one thing about this particular story -- no Forrest Gump
jokes.  ;)  Other than that, I've tried to leave no sacred cow
unmilked, no stone unthrown.



And Baby Q Makes Three by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com)


[Establishing shot of Voyager soaring through space, narrowly
avoiding hitting several planets, as though its navigator were very
drunk, or just out to get artistic shots of the ship for the
director rather than following any sane rules of spaceflight.]

****

Janeway stood up and addressed her crew.  "Thank you all for
returning from hiatus.  I know the film offers were overwhelming--"
a groan went through the crew, none of whom would be appearing in
First Contact at the end of the month, "--and your sacrifice is
appreciated."

She surveyed the bridge crew with a gimlet eye, taking in the new
hairstyles, and, more importantly, the new uniforms, which had
traded in the more practical slacks for women in for jewel-toned
gowns with deeply plunging cleavage.  Fortunately, she had the
chest to pull it off.  "I'm sure you're all terribly excited to
hear about our new mission, which, actually, is the same as our old
mission, namely getting home--"

"Boring, boring, boring," a voice said from above.  The ball of
light broke away from the ceiling where it had been pretending to
be a lightbulb, and floated to the ground, coalescing into the
figure of Q.  "And, in any case, why are you starting the season in
November?  Any fool knows it starts months before that."

Janeway cast a long-suffering glance at Paris, who had had a juicy
offer from Baywatch, "Contract negotiations."  Then more sharply,
"At least *we* weren't canceled."

Q turned an amazing shade of purple.  "That's neither here nor
there."

"*And* any of us could do a better accent than that -- what did you
call it anyway?  Hungarian?"

"Just for that, I'm going to insist on natural childbirth," Q said.

"Excuse me?" Janeway asked, bewildered by the sudden change of
subject.

Q stepped up behind her, pulling her close to him, his head tucked
over her shoulder, and his arm around her waist, hand on her
stomach.  "You're going to have my child, precious.  Don't you feel
honored?"

A sudden silence fell over the crew as they broke for a commercial.

****

[Stirring martial music over the background of a starfield.  A V
shaped wedge swoops around it, while the voiceover says:  "First
Contact.  A Star Trek movie with all your favorite characters --
Picard, Riker, and Troi as you've never seen her before -- decently
clothed!  Stop watching this pathetic imitation of the show you
truly love and come see this movie.  Playing in theaters
everywhere."  A brief break, then -- "Plot?  Why should I tell them
about the plot?  No one wants to know what a movie's about anymore. 
Besides, if they went to see The Final Frontier, they'll pay to see
anything."

The V shape finally stops in the middle of the screen, and is
immediately zapped out of existence by a passing Vogon ship.]

****

"Now I know that I told everyone in a previous episode--" Q said,
leaning against a railing, leering at Janeway.

"Episode?" Janeway asked.  "Which episode?"

"Never mind.  You wouldn't understand.  Even if you are a sex
symbol to millions of pimply teenage girls with nothing better on
their minds but lust, lust, lust."

Janeway raised an eyebrow at him.  "I thought that was the purpose
of your visit."

"Oh, do stop interrupting.  As I told everyone during that episode
with Amanda -- what a dear child -- the Q simply are not allowed to
reproduce on their own.  It's illegal, a crime, a sin against all
Q-dom, and therefore, I just have to do it since I did effectively
agree to rebel against the entire Continuum when I killed off
Quinn, even if it means I get locked up for eternity for my evil
deed.  A child as political statement.  Lovely, don't you think?"

"I think it sucks," Paris said bluntly.

Q rounded on Paris.  "Who let you in here?  Don't you know to keep
your mouth shut when addressing your betters?"

Paris shrugged.  "I didn't say a word to the captain."

Q glared at him.  "Very funny."  He snapped his fingers, and in
Paris' place was a shiny rattle.  Q stepped over and picked it up,
shaking it next to his ear with a pleased smile on his face as he
listened to the sound.

"Much better," Q intoned.  "He'll make a very nice teething gift
for our baby, don't you think, Katey-my-love?"

"Well, actually, now that I think about it," Janeway said
consideringly, "there *are* some good points to this idea."

Q leered even more, and came to lean over her as she sat
thoughtfully in her chair.  "I knew you'd come around to my way of
thinking."  A glass of champagne appeared in his hand.  "A toast to
celebrate perhaps?  Although just a sip for the mother-to-be, you
understand.  Mustn't hurt the baby."

Janeway looked up at him, not at all fazed by his off-topic
comments.  "Given that you seem certain that the Continuum will
punish you for this 'crime', I have to admit that I think the idea
of you locked away for the rest of your life in an asteroid
hurtling through space is a good one."  She took a breath. 
"However, I am *not* willing to have your child in order to bring
that end about, no matter how desirable it might be."

"I'm prepared to offer some incentives," Q said wheedlingly.

Janeway looked levelly at him.  "What?  Return to Earth?  I'm
hardly going to fall for that trick again.  We won't be allowed to
do that as long as the series continues to have an audience."

Q shook his head reprovingly.  "A mere parlor trick.  No, no -- I
can do *this*."

He held out his hand to the viewscreen, which immediately lit up
with a green screen, announcing that a PG-13 rated movie preview
was about to be shown.

"What is this, Q?" Janeway asked.

"Eat your popcorn and watch the preview, Kathryn dear.  I sprinkled
yours with wheat germ.  Very healthy."

Buckets of popcorn appeared in everyone's laps.  Janeway set hers
down on the floor next to her chair, while Tuvok sampled his
cautiously, as though the kernels might turn out to be
shapeshifting viruses which would multiply inside his body and
attempt to take over.

The green went away, replaced by a view of Earth, with large dark
spherical shapes hanging over it.

"Hey, is this Independence Day?" Kim asked, stuffing a handful of
popcorn into his mouth in between words.  "Cool.  I've been wanting
to see that movie."

"Think of it as Independence Day, part two," Q said, glancing over
him.  "When the aliens come back with their daddy."

The mammoth ships swept in, ignoring the tiny darting starships
attempting to get out of their way, or perhaps communicate with
them, and positioned themselves around the planet.  A weird
harmonic noise began, and suddenly every starship in orbit was
blown to bits.  There was no doubt that Earth would soon suffer a
similar fate, and that there was nothing anyone could do to stop
it.

A voice solemnly intoned from the screen, "Earth lies under attack
by a force or forces unknown.  All of the Federation's might has
not been sufficient to stop it, and all of their forces lie either
dead or in that funny kind of stasis we used in The Voyage Home so
that we didn't have to waste money showing models blowing up. 
Earth's only hope is one lone starship, lost in the outer reaches
of the Delta Quadrant, not even aware of the fate of her home
planet -- Voyager."

The mantra ray ship slashed across the screen, to the accompaniment
of even more music, and then the screen went dark.

Voyager's crew sat there in silence for a long moment, not saying
a word, completely stunned.

"That is what I have to offer you," Q said silkily into the
silence.  "A place in history.  Immortality.  Your own movie, in
which *you* save the universe.  It'll be the blockbuster hit of the
summer."

Janeway stood up shakily.  "I... need to consult with my spirit
animal."  She walked towards the turbolift door, then looked at
Chakotay.  "Commander?"

"Right away, Captain."

Q stood there, looking at Janeway and Chakotay as they moved for
the door.  "Oh, go run off and have your tumble in the hay.  But
remember, Kathryn -- I'm the jealous type.  And I get full
custody."

Janeway said nothing, but let the turbolift whisk her and Chakotay
away as the music for the commercial came up.

****

[What?  You thought I was going to show you Janeway and Chakotay
passionately rolling around under the table in her quarters,
praying to the gods in their own sweaty way?  I don't think so. 
Besides, this is a Q story, and even if my authorization to write
Q stories wouldn't be revoked for doing a J/C story, it would be
rather rude of me to show someone else getting some when Q doesn't.

Even if Chakotay is somewhat of a stud without his clothes on.]

****

Janeway sat on the couch in her quarters, dressed only in a pink
silk negligee.

Chakotay looked up from his position on the floor at the lean form
sitting there on the couch above him, feeling a renewed wave of
desire as he saw her lithe calves.

"Commander?  Are you all right?" Janeway voice asked.

He was barely able to move, but for Kathryn's sake, Chakotay thrust
himself into a sitting position, "Yes, captain."

She bent down over him, and he could smell her perfume, light yet
delicate, the perfect feminine counterpart to her unyielding role
as captain.

Honey blond hair floated around her face as Janeway looked at him,
examining his exhausted body.  "Do you want a pillow?"

"I can make do, captain," Chakotay said, trying to pretend to be
comfortable as he laid back down on the floor.

She pulled a cushion from the couch anyway and tucked it under his
head.  Immediately, Chakotay fell asleep.

A sarcastic clapping filled the room.  "Bravo.  Bravo indeed.  A
masterful performance, my dear Kate.  Instead of taming the shrew,
our hero Petruchio has been well and truly worn out.  You *are* a
vessel fit for a god after all."

Janeway leaned back, studying him carefully.  "Q, even if I wanted
to have children at this point in my life, I certainly wouldn't
choose you as their father."

Q dangled a ticking clock from one long finger.  "Not too long to
go here, Katie.  You don't have much time left to have children. 
And in any case, who are you going to have them with?"  He gestured
at Chakotay, snoring on the floor.  "*Him?*"

Janeway raised her chin.  "Actually, yes.  And I believe I've
already started."

Q looked at her for a long moment.  "You don't mean... you
wouldn't..."

"I do and I would.  I am already pregnant, and you're not the
father."

"This is... this is..." Q seemed to be at a loss for words.

"A ratings ploy for sweeps month.  Yes, I know.  Just as everyone
gets all excited over trying to guess who the father is, I'll lose
the baby, allowing the writers to do a big show on the sorrow of
losing a child, and allowing me to show my sensitive vulnerable
side.  Not quite as good as the movie deal you're offering me, but
not bad."  Janeway smiled viciously at Q.  "*And* the miscarriage
will leave me unable to have children, which means that you are out
of luck."

He glared at her.  "You can't get away with this.  I'll tell
everyone who the father of your child is."

Janeway looked down at the sleeping Chakotay and shrugged.  "I'm
two months pregnant.  My affair with the commander is much more
recent than that.  I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that as
a threat, Q."

"Ah, yes, but I'm omnipotent.  Therefore, I know who the father
is."

Janeway regarded him levelly.  "Omnipotent means all powerful, not
all knowing.  Look it up."

Q visibly deflated as his threat fell flat.  "But what do I do?" he
nearly wailed.  "I have to have a child in order to carry out my
rebellion against the Continuum.  This is important!"

"Q--" Janeway said in calm, measured tones, "go fuck yourself."

Q's eyes lit up at that, and he spun around delightedly, before
bestowing a large kiss on her.  "What a wonderful idea!  Ta ta for
now!"

And he vanished in a flash of light.

****

[End credits roll over the sound of heavy snoring from under the
table.  Next week: Neelix discovers that the crew has been eating
popcorn that he didn't make and takes his revenge by making
inedible food, and is profoundly depressed when no one notices.]


-the end-