This story contains little to offend anyone, and was meant to be
funny, although given my peculiar sense of humor, you never
really know.  However, you can't go far wrong with Q,
vampires, and "The Princess Bride".  This story is for
amusement purposes, and possibly making neat paper airplanes
out of.


Cruise with the Vampire by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com)


"Vampires, commander?  Inconceivable." Picard's tone was
wry, and Riker visibly deflated under his gaze.  "I suggest you
have a chat with the good counselor.  You seem to be seeing
things, Number One."

He disappeared into the Ready Room.  As the door closed
behind him, he went to the replicator.  "Blood, human, type A
positive, 37 degrees Celsius."

A lazy hand stroked down the back of his neck.  "And how does
that taste, mon ami?"

"Quite well, Q."

"I must say that your vampireness has mellowed you,
Jean-Luc."  The entity perched himself on Picard's desk.  "At
one time you would have been screaming at me to get out of
here."

Picard smiled, displaying his teeth.  "Things have changed."

Q grimaced.  "And not for the better."  With a flash, he was
gone.

The lower levels of the Enterprise were, as usual, full of grimly
starched Starfleet types with nothing better to do than look at
consoles, and no thought of the virtual fleet of drink dispensers
and entertainment at their disposal.  They were known as the
great unwashed masses, or as the vampires preferred to think of
them, Lunch.

****

"One, two, three, four..."

"Excuse me, Guinan, what are you engaging in?" Data asked
politely.

"Seven...  Damnit, Data, you made me lose count."

"Lose count of what?"  Data turned around, and surveyed Ten
Forward.  A subroutine in his brain stopped cataloging the nude
pictures of Klingon women downloaded in the last two months
(1,376) and immediately took a count of what there were more
of seven of in the room.  "There are twelve round tables, eight
square tables, twenty five fixed chairs..."

"Enough, Data.  I don't need an inventory."

"Are you certain of that?  My computational circuits are not
otherwise engaged at this moment."

"Are you asking me on a date, Data?"  Guinan set a glass of
Data Special (oil mixed in with nutritional particles) in front of
him.

"No, Guinan.  I was merely..."

"Oh, put a sock in it, Data."

She stalked off before he could explain that he did not in fact
need to wear socks.  

"Get me a drink, will you?"

"What do you want?" Guinan almost snarled, but thought better
of it, turning around and mixing a pale yellow concoction. 
"Here."

The lieutenant took it.  "That's better."  He took a sip, then
turned blue, choked once, and fell on the floor.

An ensign looked at the lieutenant's dead body, then at Guinan. 
"Personally, I think you do too much, madam.  Please, why
don't you have a seat, and we'll all serve ourselves.   You're
underpaid, and you really don't deserve to be doing something
as lowly as waiting on us."

She glared at him, and stalked out.

Data considered Guinan's strange behavior, and called Security
to remove the dead body.  He would need to file a full report on
this, which would take approximately two percent of his total
computational capacity.  Another ten percent was alloted to the
picture archive organization and the rest on the contemplation of
how cat fur kept getting stuck on his uniforms despite his best
efforts to remove it, since he was after all off duty and could
think about those things.

None of his processing power was devoted to the contemplation
of vampires, since his database had told him that vampires were
a fabled demon or ghost that sucks the blood of persons asleep
or a large blood sucking Terran bat.  Since bats were not known
to infest the Enterprise, and he did not sleep, vampires were of
little interest to him.

As Guinan walked through the ship, grimly determined in her
path, dead bodies littered the corridors.  But only in her
imagination.  The doom that hung over the ship was palpable,
and knowing that Q was somehow involved only made it worse.

The incident that had created the hostility between her and the
omnipotent entity replayed itself in her mind.  Her father, the
greatest swordmaker of her people, lying dead at her feet, and
Q standing over him, smiling with that sardonic, idle smile that
you hated so much.  When she met up with him again, he would
pay.  She had been training for this moment, for her vengeance
for many years.  The words she would speak as she brought him
to his knees ran through her head:  "Hello, my name is Guinan. 
You killed my father.  Prepare to die."

She walked past a lieutenant.  "No."

"Excuse me?"

She ignored him and kept going.  There were two men standing
in the hall, chatting.  "Yes.  Not yet."

When she got to her quarters, she didn't bother asking the
replicator for garlic.  The vampires wouldn't get her.  Life
didn't work that way for her.  They could smell a bigger
predator; they'd leave her alone as too dangerous for them.

The display of trophy heads swayed in the slight, artificially
induced breeze.  Guinan walked calmly underneath to pull out
her sword and begin sharpening it.

****

"Mr. Worf, have you noticed the captain behaving oddly of
late?" Riker asked, as Picard entered the Ready Room.

"Oddly, sir?  In what way?"  Worf hastily cleared his console of
the less than work-related images he had been studying.

"*Oddly*, Mr. Worf.  In some way that's different than
normal?"

Worf cocked his head.  How was he supposed to know what
was strange for a human?  "The captain has done nothing which
has endangered the security of this ship, sir."

Riker stomped his foot, cocked his head in a particularly
devilish fashion for the benefit of the ensign at Navigation, then
went to sulk in the captain's chair.

Relieved, Worf pulled up his research again.  Nothing like a
little recreation to enliven a dull watch.  The only thing of any
importance Security-wise was the ongoing rumor of vampire
infestation, but vampires were a tale for humans and Klingon
children not old enough to taste real blood, the blood of their
dead enemies.

****

Troi sat in her quarters, waiting for her next patient.  She had a
smug, self-satisfied look on her face.

The door sounded, and she smiled wider.  "Come in."

Barclay entered warily.  "Commander LaForge said you wanted
to talk to me?"

Troi patted the seat next to her.  "Come in, Mr. Barclay."

He took a seat across the couch from her, at a comfortable
distance, and she moved in on him.

"I have something that will help you with your shyness."

She was almost curled up against his side, and he was visibly
shaking by now.  "You do?"

"Oh, yes, I do."  She leaned up against him, her soft weight
keeping him from moving as he gazed transfixed down at her
exposed breasts.  He hardly even noticed when she sank her
teeth into his neck, and by then it was too late.

Minutes later, Barclay had been transformed into a vampire, and
Troi was lolling across the couch with him, an even more sated
smile on her face.

"Picard to Troi."

"Troi here," Troi answered, without moving from her position,
entwined with the somnolent Barclay.

"How is the conversion progressing?  Commander Riker is
beginning to be suspicious."

"It's going as well as can be expected.  About one tenth of the
crew has been converted, all in key positions.  I have tried to
impress on our converts the need to refrain from overindulging
until we reach Starbase 56."

"Very well."  Picard sounded depressed.  "It would be best if
Riker could be converted."

"You know that would be unwise, Captain.  With his predatory
nature, he would be likely to start working his way down the list
of eligible women and not stop until all of them were similarly
infected.  It's too early to cause a panic like that."

"Yes, yes, I know.  We have 23 hours until we reach the
starbase, and we can't do it without the crew.  As appetizing as
they may be.  Picard out."

Barclay opened his eyes.  "What was that, my queen?"

"Nothing, dear one.  Enjoy yourself.  We'll have much good
hunting to do when we reach Earth."

****

Q materialized himself on top of Picard's desk, stretched out
across it with apparent laziness.  He was in full human form,
with every nuance, every response, and more importantly, every
drop of blood, fully human.  "You'll never reach Earth, you
know."

"That's none of your concern," Picard said stiffly.  Although he
had recently eaten, the fresh variety was always preferable.  
Unfortunately, once Beverly had been gotten out of the way
(and what a delicious meal she had been) there was no one he
could take back to his quarters without arousing suspicion.

"Oh, yes, it is, mon capitaine.  I've always taken a *very*
proprietary interest in your welfare."  Q turned on his side,
facing the seated Picard, and ran a finger down the side of his
face, letting him feel the warmth, and the throbbing pulse. 
"You wouldn't want to deny a poor omnipotent being his fun,
now would you?"

Without his volition, Picard's tongue darted out of his mouth,
licking the entity's finger.

Q tapped Picard's cheek.  "Uh-uh-uh.  You know what your
mother told you about snacking between meals."

"*Q*!" Picard said in taxed tones.  In a few seconds, he would
be lunging over the desk and grabbing for the entity's throat. 
Of course, that was what he'd always wanted to do to Q. 
Unfortunately, the end result would be him lying on the floor
next to the desk and Q nowhere to be seen.  That was the
problem with omnipotent entities.  They were so...
*omnipotent*.

Q jumped up from the desk.  "Your plans are as short-sighted
now as before you became a vampire.  Death does *not*
become you, Jean-Luc."

"Thank you so very much for that entertaining summation of my
flaws," Picard said.  "Did you have any suggestions for me or
were you just planning on taunting me for the rest of the
afternoon?"

Q glowered at him for a moment.  "I don't know why I waste
my time with you.  You're even more annoying now than you
were before."

"That almost sounds like a compliment," Picard said calmly. 
"Now was there a point to this?"

Q regarded him down the bridge of his nose.  "There was
*going* to be, but since you seem to have everything under
control, I won't bother telling you that vampires are not
considered a valid cultural choice by your precious Starfleet."

"I'll write a memo," Picard said curtly.

****

"Mr. Data to the bridge."

"On my way."

****

Q paced the corridors of a ship gone increasingly mad.  He
didn't have to pace.  He could have absorbed everything that
was happening from a seat on the hull.  Or galaxies away.  But
somehow, it was more satisfying to stalk around, startling the
occasional crewman who recognized him like a ghoul on
Halloween.

As he walked past one hallway, a mental chill ran through him. 
Something was wrong, very wrong.

"Hello," a calm voice said.

Q spun to find Guinan regarding him while holding a sword. 
"You killed my father, you bastard."

"Your father?" Q sputtered.  "Why would I care about anyone
as insignificant as that."

Her expression hardened.  "Prepare to die."

"Die?"

Without saying another word, she ran him through with the
sword.

Q looked at the entrance wound, then slowly toppled to the
ground.  Before he could recover and heal himself, she cut off
his head.

There was a flash of light as the body disappeared, and Q
re-formed next to her.  "I'm believe I'm beginning to be a little
annoyed by this.  What do you *want*, woman?"

She smiled slightly, a tight, grim smile.  "Hello.  My name is
Guinan Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die."

Q yelped, ducked through a wall, and was gone.

"Damn," Guinan said, unable to sense him anywhere on the
ship.  "He got away."

She stumped down the hall until she found a replicator, then
asked for a cloth to clean the sword off with.  As she walked
down the hall, she said softly, "Yes.  No.  No.  Yes.  Damn,
they're multiplying."

****

Data stepped onto the bridge.  "Yes, sir?  I believe I have two
hours and seventeen minutes left until my shift."

"Yes, yes, Data," Riker said.  He drew Data off to the side and
spoke in a hushed voice.  "I'm concerned that the crew are
becoming vampires."

"Vampires, sir?  Blood sucking bats?"

Riker looked down at him.  "Yes, Data.  Vampires.  I need
some hard data on this.  And find out how to beat them."

Data cocked his head.  "Yes, sir."

"Well, what are you standing there for?"

"I have collected the salient statistics on vampires, concluded
from all available resources that vampires do not have ordinary
physical needs such as eating, sleeping or reproduction and
processed the crew roster, cross-referencing it appropriately
with replicator statistics, and available data on hormones
levels."

"And?"

"Approximately 32.5 percent of the crew are exhibiting
vampiric tendencies.  This represents 63.4 percent of the human
crew.  No  fully non-human being is affected."

"Damn.  I've got to talk to the captain about this," Riker said. 
"We're less than a day out of Starbase 56."

"That would be unwise, sir." 

"Unwise?  Why, Data?"

"Because the captain is a vampire."

"Are you certain?" Riker asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Damn."  Riker looked at Data.  "Is there any way to stop
them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well?"

"Exposing a vampire to direct sunlight will cause it to
decompose."

"That's good.  Data, construct..."  Riker stopped as an original
thought somehow managed to batter its way into his head.  "No,
that's not.  Damn.  And I wanted to be captain.  But doing it by
killing Captain Picard... it would look bad on my permanent
record."

"There is another way, sir," Data proffered.

"What is it?"

"The source of this method is highly fictional, rooted in a 20th
century Terran entertainment about vampires, called 'Bram
Stoker's Dracula' and starring Gary..."

"Never mind the filmography, Data.  What's the plan?"

"The plan, as you put it, sir, was that if the original vampire,
the one who had caused the others to become vampires, could
be isolated and killed, then all the other vampires would revert
to their pre-vampiric state."

"That's an excellent plan, Data!  Who is the original vampire?"

"Unknown, sir.  I will endeavor to locate this individual."

"You do that.  You're excused from your bridge duties until
further notice to work on this problem."

"Yes, sir."

****

"Picard, you absolutely *must* stop this."

Picard didn't have to look up.  He could sense Q's presence
from across the room.  His blood, his very lifeforce, called to
Picard and he couldn't help but track Q's every movement.  "If
I were to help you with whatever this problem is, there'd be a
price."

Q's eyes narrowed.  "You don't actually think I'd let you sink
your teeth into my neck, do you?"

Picard looked at the entity steadily.  "You don't actually think
I'd help an omnipotent, omni-annoying being with his personal
problems, do you?"

Q gathered his dignity about him.  "Well, *be* that way.  You
can stay a vampire for the rest of your natural life, or should I
say, death?"

"Thank you.  I appreciate it."  Picard kept himself in his chair
by force of will.  The sheer amount of energy running through
Q was an almost irrestible temptation.

The door to the Ready Room opened.  "Hello," Guinan said,
addressing Q.  She unsheathed her sword and advanced on him.

Q looked at Picard, eyes wild.  He could go anywhere in the
universe to flee from Guinan, but as long as he was entrusted
with saving these petty mortals from their problems, he was
going to keep running into her.  "Whatever you want, Picard. 
I'll do whatever you want.  Just make her leave me alone!"

Picard smiled, showing his teeth and stood up.  "Very well. 
My quarters.  One hour."

Q's expression turned sulky, but Guinan advanced on him. 
"You killed on my father..." and he disappeared.

Balked of her prey, Guinan looked over at Picard.  "Yes."

"Guinan, could you please drop this silly vendetta against Q?"

"Captain, he *killed* my father!"

"Yes, yes, we all know about that tedious story.  You've told us
repeatedly about what Q has done to you and your people and
how he betrayed you to the Borg and forced you to service their
coffee dispensers as a slave aboard their ship until they all
switched to decaf."

Guinan looked at him, expression stiff.  "Dying hasn't improved
your wit."

Picard glared at her.  "For the moment, you're a member of my
crew.  And as long as you are, I expect obedience.  Leave Q
alone."

She looked at him sullenly.  "Yes, sir."

"Fine.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a pressing
engagement."

****

Data sat in his quarters, ostensibly stroking Spot.  In fact, he
was conducting an extensive survey of the effect of warp speed
optical displays on bioneural components, i.e., staring out at the
stars.  The rest of his brain was attempting to flow chart the
spread of vampirism throughout the ship.  Construction of a
vampire destruction device had been relatively simple.  Data had
merely requested a sun lamp with a self-contained power source
from the replicator.

The vampirism had apparently begun at their last stop on Risa,
when a simple social disease had become something more. 
Before that time, there were no records of vampiric-like activity
aboard the ship.  After that...

With a twitch of his pleasure circuits, Data isolated the first
element of contagion.  Counsellor Deanna Troi.

****

Picard was sitting on the side of the bed when Q appeared. 
"You know, Jean-Luc, this is really unnecessary.  I can reverse
your vampirism with a thought, your entire *crew* can be
disgustingly mortal again.  Wouldn't that be better?"

Picard didn't flinch.  "Come here, Q."

Reluctantly, Q sat down on the bed, trying to talk his way out
of a bad bargain.  "I'll taste bad.  There are much fresher
sources of blood on the ship.  I can get you..."

Without saying a word, Picard grabbed Q by the shoulders,
forcing him down onto the bed.  Lying over him, limbs
entwined, he stared at Q, dominance and challenge in his eyes. 
"You don't look nearly as cocky now."

"Well, you should see me on a good day," Q retorted weakly,
his own word forcing him to submit as Picard bent over him,
lips going to his neck.

****

"Counsellor, I am afraid I have to kill you."

"What?"  Deanna lunged up off the couch towards Data, leaving
the sated Barclay behind.  He was as useless as a vampire as he
had been as a person.  She should have simply drained him.

Deanna reached out for him, and Data triggered the sun lamp. 
"My apologies, Counsellor."

With a cry, she withered into dust.

****

Disoriented, Picard found himself lying over Q, pressed body to
body with him, like a pair of lovers.  The positioning and the
shock of it drove all thought of remembering why he was there
out of his mind.  He had been a *vampire*?

Before he could scramble backwards, Q ran a hand down
Picard's cheek.  "Oh, don't stop there, *dearest*.  I was just
beginning to get interested."

"*Q*!"


-the end-