As you may know, I haven't reposted this story in a while.  Part
of the reason is because I re-read this story and discovered that
I'd left some embarrassing holes in it when writing it.  It was
the very first story I wrote for the net, and consequently, ended
up with some problems which I hope I've corrected for this newer
version.

This is a Deshanya story, the first of the series, and is
followed by "All's Fair in Q and War", and "Q's Pawn".  ("A Qmas
Carol" and "Truth or Q?" also feature the character of Deshanya.) 
All of these stories are available by FTP at ftp.europa.com, in
the directory /outgoing/mercutio/.  They can also be downloaded
through the WWW.  The WWW address is:
http://www.europa.com/~mercutio/FTPList.html.



Q-stume Party, by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com)


Lieutenant Elaine Deshanya took one more look around the entrance
hall, admiring her handiwork.  At the top of the marble stairs,
Beauty sat patiently waiting to welcome the first guests, while
the Beast sulked next to her, fretting in his velvet jacket,
impatient at having to wait for so long.  Sometimes, holograms
could almost be too lifelike.

Everything looked fine.  She'd have to disappear very soon
herself or risk being unmasked as the true host of the costume
party.  No one else would be here this early.  But how could she
resist?  It was like Christmas morning, only better, because she
could replay it over and over and over again afterwards.

She took a glance at herself in one of the many mirrors in the
hall.  Ozma of Oz stared back at her, a short, elfin figure with
dark cascades of hair, dressed in a swirl of rainbow silks. 
Elaine had taken some liberties with Ozma's appearance, as
illustrated by John Neill, and described by L. Frank Baum.  Ozma
was ageless, but always appearing as a young girl.  Elaine had
aged Ozma's face, so she appeared in her early twenties, although
the height, or lack of it, counteracted that.  She looked nothing
like herself.  In her own self, she was six inches taller, plain,
definitely heavier, and possessed of muddy brown hair and a less
than attractive voice.  The programming she had done to achieve
this was nothing short of awesome.  The party was less an
occasion for fun than an opportunity to test and display her
programming accomplishments.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tall figure materialized.  She stared
at him.  It was Q.

"What an original entrance!"

Q was nonplussed.  This was not the usual reaction he got.

"And your costume!  It's wonderful."  Ozma of Oz glided towards
the Starfleet admiral.   "To come as Q!  What a brilliant idea."

Her nose wrinkled suddenly.  "Oh, dear.  I remember why I didn't
list Q in my costume choices."  She peered sincerely up at him. 
"You won't do anything really Q-ish, will you?  Like suddenly
turning anybody into rabbits or stealing guests from the party?"

"My dear..."

"Because you could if you wanted to.  I mean, I specified
everyone be in character, and that would be in character, it's
just that it would ruin the party.  Little things would be okay,
though.  It's all right that you didn't pick someone on my list. 
I didn't mean to exclude other choices just because I'm
unnaturally interested in Terran folklore and literature.  I just
tried to make some suggestions."

Q was about to respond, when she suddenly put her gloved hands
over her mouth, her face wrinkling with distress.

"Oh, dear.  I just told you who I am."  She peered earnestly up
at him.  "You won't hold it against me, will you?  There's tons
of other guests to guess."

Q had opened his mouth to deliver a cutting rejoinder, when the
impertinent chit cut him off again.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear.  I can't stay here."  She looked up at him. 
"I don't know why I made myself so short.  This is getting tiring
looking up at you."

"You..."

"Do you want to come with me?  I'm going down to walk on the
beach until the party starts."

She held out her hand to him and Q took it.  Well, how else was
he ever going to get a word in with this infuriating creature?

She raised her wand, and with a quickly whispered word, they were
standing down on the bay shore.  Taking his arm, she led him down
the beach.

"I do hope I haven't hurt your feelings."

He stared down at her.  What was she babbling about?  Feelings?

"By asking you not to act too much like Q at the party.  Because
you could, you know, if you wanted.  I just don't want the party
ruined.  I've been planning it for ages, and I want it to go off
well."

He hesitated, not sure whether to freeze her into place for the
duration of his stay on the Enterprise or to turn her permanently
into some silent form of life such as an oak tree.  He was sure
that, in this instance, Picard would agree with his judgment,
which made him wonder whether pleasing Picard was a good thing,
even though the end result would clearly benefit the both of
them.

She took his silence as assent.  "Thank you!"  Overjoyed, she
pointed her wand at the ground and whispered another word. 
Silently, the ground grew a tapestried footstool emblazoned with
the letters "OZ".  She hopped up on it and put her hands on his
shoulders, kissing him firmly on the mouth.

His arms went around the delicate ruler of Oz, one long fingered
hand splayed on the small of her back.  On second thought,
perhaps keeping her in human form would annoy Picard more. 
Certainly, he had never been more entertained, err -- irritated,
in at least a hundred years.  And she would be someone for Picard
to feel compelled to rescue.  Yes.

She snuggled closer to the tall stranger impersonating Q.  She
didn't know who he was and didn't want to know.  He could be a
hologram planted by Data.  He could even *be* Data.  And it would
spoil her evening to think about how he could be that whiny,
overaged ensign from Engineering with the oily skin who kept
trying to get her to feel his warp drive, when all he was now was
a handsome, omnipotent godling holding her close in his arms, his
voice a sensuous murmur in her ear.  He smelled deliciously of
musk and spice.  One of his hands drifted leisurely up her back,
causing her to shiver deliciously before it came to rest at the
nape of her neck, tangling in her long, dark hair.

She was so deeply into the kiss that she didn't notice him
transferring them back to the entrance hall.  The surprised and
outraged outcry was her first idea anything was wrong.

"Q!"

Romeo looked at the tableau, stunned.  Q kissing a woman,
someone, possibly a member of the crew.  No, definitely a member
of the crew.  Q would never choose a hologram.  That would be too
non-threatening, too easy.

"Q!  Let go of that woman!"  Q looked up without breaking the
kiss and was amused.  With the exception of Zorro, the room was
full of children and adolescents.  He was surrounded by pygmies. 
An intriguing comment on human legends and myths.  Even Picard
had succumbed, costumed as an adolescent in the first blush of
youth.  Did they honestly believe the height of their already
pitifully short lives was set at an artificial limit of 15 years?

Q broke off the kiss to reply, but continued holding Ozma close
to him.  "Why, Romeo!  Aren't you content with your fair Juliet? 
Or were you proposing a trade?"  He looked speculatively at
Juliet.  "I believe I got the better bargain, but I'm a
reasonable being, willing to listen to any proposals you might
have."

"Q, what are you doing here?"

"Just enjoying the party, mon ami.  And the party favors."

Romeo spluttered, unable to say anything.

Ozma lifted her head from Q's chest, and looked out at the half
circle of people loosely surrounding them.  Alice, D'artangan,
Robin Hood, Don Juan, Peter Pan, Romeo, Juliet and T'Pau stared
back at her, expressions aghast.  Blushing, Ozma stepped back,
forgetting that she was still standing on the footstool, tripping
and falling backwards.

Before she could hit the floor, Q caught her effortlessly,
holding her over his arm as though he meant to ravish her. 
Looking up into his mocking, seductive eyes, she couldn't see as
how that would be such a bad idea.  She clutched him tightly,
whether to keep from falling or to encourage him to sweep her up
and away, she couldn't say.

Q smiled evilly for the benefit of his audience and kissed her
again, long and showily, keeping her bent over his arm, savoring
the feeling of outrage rising from the good captain.

Peter Pan drew his sword, about to put an end to Q's life, or
even settle for temporary dismemberment, when the Beast leaped in
front of him, growling.  Even Peter had to step back from the
sight of an intelligent monster three times his size with teeth
longer than his fingers.

"There will be no fighting.  Do you understand?" the Beast
growled threateningly, looking as though he was about to pick
Peter up and shake him by his collar.

Peter Pan nodded reluctantly.  Now was not the time or the place. 
Later, however.

Counsellor Troi bit her lip.  She could feel nothing at all from
the one representing himself as Q.  Most likely, that meant that
he was a hologram, but was it because Q didn't want her to read
anything, or because there was nothing to read?  She was nowhere
near certain enough to stop the party and denounce him as Q.

Beauty stepped forward.  "Please, you are all our guests
tonight."  She smiled with a charm that had indeed won the heart
of a Beast, and the motley array of guests sighed and put away
their quarrel for the moment.  "Come, and see the banquet hall."

Ozma watched as the other guests streamed away into the banquet
hall.  Q had set her upright at last, although she held onto his
arm for balance, slightly dizzy from the blood rushing to her
head.  She was curious to know who each of the guests were. 
Although hers was the programming which had designed each of the
costumes and set up the scenarios which would randomly occur
throughout the course of the evening, she didn't know who the
others were.  Some of them could even be, and probably were,
holograms, to throw the competition off.   She had deliberately
set up blinds and double blinds to keep the contest as fair as
possible.  If she had wanted to, there were any number of ways to
tell who was who, but that wouldn't be any fun.

"Shall we?" Q asked with studied elegance.

Ozma curtsied as low as she could without falling over.  Although
he wore the uniform of an admiral, Q was a godling after all, and
she only a princess.  Technically, he outranked her.

He took her small hand in his, placing it on his arm, before
moving them in a blink of an eye to the banquet hall.

Ozma, who had blinked, but was oblivious to the disorientation of
her surroundings, clapped her hands with delight.  She'd planned
to have a special place setting at the table for herself, with an
emerald cup and monogrammed Oz plates.  It was there, but right
next to it, and completely unplanned for, was a matching set in
red, monogrammed with the letter Q and a ruby cup.  She looked
around.  The other guests were examining their settings as well,
each personalized, although none as elaborate as hers and Q's.

Alice was seated in an upholstered armchair.  In front of her, at
her place, was a silver jug of tea.  Undoubtably with a dormouse
in it.  Ozma wondered idly if this Alice liked mice.  The others
had plain gilt chairs, although D'artangan's had a fleur-de-lis
carved into it.  The table was approximately ten feet long, and
ornately carved.

Ozma shifted position, and for the first time realized she was
perched on the edge of a red velvet fainting couch.  Q stretched
out on it, all lazy elegance, yet satirically tense and poised,
mouth arched and eyes mocking.  She smiled at him.  "This is
wonderful.  You have a tremendous sense of style.  I never would
have thought of doing things this way, and I didn't even plan on
your being here.  I love the place settings and the couch..."

He smiled archly and trailed a finger along her cheek, stopping
her breathless monologue cold.  It wasn't like him to let Picard,
or anyone else, set the pace of an encounter, but it had occurred
to him that it would be even more hell for Picard to try to
decide whether he really was Q than it would be to just take
over.

"Die!"  An enormous jar shook the table, and Ozma looked up. 
Peter Pan was swatting at a little flitting ball of light.

"Oh, dear."  Ozma collapsed in laughter.  "I should have known
this would happen."  She watched, helplessly laughing, as Peter
Pan chased the ball of light around, and the light flickered in
and out, obviously pinching him in delicate and indelicate
places.

The ball of light had the advantage.  She could fly, while Peter
remained fixed to the ground.  Until she accidentally sprinkled
him with fairy dust.  Immediately, he left the ground, chasing
the ball of light higher and higher in the high-ceilinged room.

"Dear me!"  She couldn't help but laugh.  "And who else would be
thinking happy thoughts while wanting to tear Tinkerbell limb
from limb?"

The other characters looked at her, dismayed faces turning slowly
to smiles as they realized who Peter was and what was happening.

"Oh, dear.  Did I just give someone else away?"

Eventually, Peter looked down and realized he was 20 feet off the
ground.  With a howl, his happy thoughts left him, and he
plummeted towards the ground.

Ozma whispered to her wand, having seen this coming, and a large
pillow several times larger than Peter, embroidered in emerald
and gold wire with the letters OZ, appeared underneath him.  He
sunk deeply into it, disappearing entirely.

She stood up, and walked over to the pillow.  Reaching a hand to
Peter, she helped him out.  He was slightly shorter than herself,
and even seemed lighter, an illusion -- probably.  She still
wasn't sure about the extent of her recent reprogramming.  He
growled at her, but accepted her help.

Once he was up, she put a hand on his arm, restraining him. 
"Peter, this is Tinkerbell.  Tink, Peter."

He stared suspiciously at the ball of light.  Ozma held out her
hand, and the fairy alighted on it.  Once still, they were both
able to see that she was indeed a tiny fairy, a woman about 2
inches high with wings.  For some reason, she seemed to look a
lot like Counsellor Troi.

"What is this creature?"

"This is Peter's faithful fairy companion, Tinkerbell.  With her
magic dust, and happy thoughts, Peter can fly."

He stared suspiciously at Ozma, but was unable to accuse her of
lying or public drunkenness, since the feathers still swirled
around his feet as a result of his crash into the pillow.

"Now make nice with Tink, Peter.  You've hurt her feelings."

He growled again, but held out his own hand to the fairy. 
Solemnly, the tiny fairy took his finger and shook it, then rose
from Ozma's hand, darting to bury herself in Peter's hair.  From
the table, Ozma doubted anyone could see what Tink was doing, but
from up close, Ozma could see that the tiny fairy was kissing
Peter's cheek repeatedly to his visible disgust.

Ozma giggled, then whispered another word to her wand, causing
the loose feathers and the pillow to vanish back where they'd
come from -- nowhere at all.

"You'll have to be careful to not think happy thoughts or you'll
start flying again."

Peter glowered at her.  "That will not be a problem."

She walked back over to the table and settled herself next to Q,
who seemed supremely bored by the antics.

"You don't enjoy watching people making fools out of themselves?"

"Why?  It becomes tiresome when they do it so often."

She frowned at him.

Before Ozma could scold Q, Beauty stood up, attracting everyone's
attention.  "As you know, this is a costume party.  Everyone is
expected to remain in character throughout the night."

A groan ran throughout the people seated at the table, glancing
simultaneously at Q as they realized what that meant.  His eyes
narrowed, and their heads were replaced by donkeys' heads.

Ozma glared at Q, and the donkeys' heads disappeared.  He smiled
indulgently at her, as if to say, /If I really wanted them to
have asses' heads, then they would, but I don't, so I'm taking
them off, but it's *not* because you wanted me to./

Beauty smiled at Q, since his behavior was quite in character. 
"Events and entertainment have been arranged for your enjoyment. 
At midnight," she pointed to an antique clock standing near the
table, "there will be an unmasking.  All of the hologram
characters will disappear, and characters still present will
appear in their own guise.  At that time, the prize for correctly
guessing the identity of the guests will be awarded.  You may
record your answers at any time, by simply telling myself or the
Beast.  You may have noticed that it is not night outside.  Time
is skewed here.  The only accepted measure is this clock.  Don't
worry about keeping time.  All guests will be led back here
before the unmasking."

"With that, let the party begin."  Beauty sat back down next to
the Beast, and patted his arm reassuringly.  He was not at his
best in public.

"That was amazing," Zorro said, as a general hum of chatter
arose.

"What was amazing?" Alice asked.

"The donkey's heads..."

"Our costumes are amazing enough by themselves," Alice pulled at
a strand of her long, blonde hair.

"That's not what I mean," Zorro said.  "The way he did it was
amazing.  No command to the computer whatsoever."

"Computer?" Ozma asked, amused.  "What's a computer?"

Alice looked at her sharply, but spoke to Zorro, "It would be a
simple thing for Q to do, would it not?"

"Of course, but that's not the only way to do it.  Ozma did the
same thing when she made a pillow appear under Peter Pan."

"But she spoke to her wand.  That's a command."

Zorro shook his head.  "You could use other cues.  Or..." he
broke off for a moment, thinking.  "You could subvocalize the
commands pretty easily.  Heck, Data could probably link in
directly with the computer."  He shook his head.  "The things
he's done here are just amazing."

"So you don't believe that he really is Q?"

Q smiled smugly at them, refusing to say anything at all on the
matter.

"If he is Q, he's being awfully bland."

Q's face screwed up.  Bland?  They were calling him bland?  He
was going to have to do something about this.  Eventually.

"And he could be a hologram as well.  If he is, then he's tied
into the computer at all times, and his powers are limited only
to what the holodeck can project."

D'artangan got to his feet, holding his wine glass.  "I'd like to
propose a toast.  To our lovely hostess," he bowed to Beauty,
"and to France."

Ozma grabbed her glass, about to jump up, when without fanfare or
announcements, two savage beasts appeared in the doorway, a large
lion and an equally large tiger with purple stripes around his
muscular body, paced slowly and silently down the length of the
room.  The lion had a large pink bow tied loosely around his
neck, and the tiger had a matching one on the tip of his tail,
which did nothing to soften the impact of their burning eyes and
violent demeanor.

The guests were frozen in shock to their seats.  Beauty and the
Beast looked on with tolerant expressions.

"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my," Romeo whispered softly.

Peter Pan bristled, and was about to rise, when Alice laid a
restraining hand on his forearm.  In a whisper, she said,
"They're only holograms, Worf."

He looked at her, visibly annoyed at being balked of his prey.

Ozma clapped her hands with delight, and rose to her feet.

The great beasts paced their way around the table to her, then
bowed their great heads in homage.

"We salute the most lovely ruler of Oz," the Cowardly Lion said.

The Hungry Tiger yawned.  "I haven't eaten yet."  He looked at
Peter.  "A bit old, but I suppose he'll do.  I really prefer
babies, you know."

Peter bristled again, shaking off Alice's hand.  "I will destroy
him.  Did you hear what he said?"

Alice laughed.  "Tigers talking and you still think they're
real?"

Ozma looked indulgently down at her subjects, both of whom were
nearly as tall as she.  "No babies, tonight.  Or ever."

"My conscience would never let me eat him," the tiger said in a
sad voice.  "But my appetite is really only satisfied with
babies."

Ozma seated herself on her couch, motioning to Q.  "This is Q, an
omnipotent deity.  These are the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry
Tiger."

"Charmed," Q said sardonically.

The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger bowed their heads to Q
nearly touching them to the ground, before ranging themselves on
either side of the couch.  Both had met other powers before, some
even more unwise to offend, such as Santa Claus.

A liveried servant walked in with a platter of exotic treats,
sugar in every possible combination, holding it out first to
Alice.

Alice looked at the platter with lust.  "It all looks so good."

Juliet looked over.  "And fattening."

"Ah, but they're not!" the servant said.

Alice wrinkled her nose in distaste.  "Fake chocolate.  Yuck."

The servant smiled broadly.  "Real chocolate.  Real *hologram*
chocolate.  Programmed to vanish before the digestion process can
begin."

Juliet's eyes widened.  "No.  That's just not possible."

The servant nodded.  "Ah, but it is.  And it's been verified by
Lieutenant Deshanya."

The goodies were gone in seconds, helped along by Q, who simply
vanished what he wanted of the goodies off the platter without
moving from his couch.

The servant smiled again, as a dissatisfied murmur came up from
those members of the party who hadn't gotten enough of the
sweets.  "There's more where those came from.   An infinite
supply, you could say."

Q ignored all of that, holding out a ruby plate to Ozma,
delicately balanced on the palm of one hand.  "My dear?"  He
savored the glance of indignation from the captain, even as he
pretended to ignore it.

Ozma leaned back against him, savoring the feel of his lean body
against hers.  He selected one of the dainties from the tray,
feeding it to her, watching the captain as he trailed his finger
against her lips.

The Hungry Tiger looked over at the Cowardly Lion.  "Do you
suppose those taste nearly as good as babies?"

Alice looked at the cookie she was holding.  "This is so cute! 
The icing spells out 'Eat me'."

Ozma heard what Alice said and smiled.  She brushed Q's hand
away, and sat up, tense with anticipation.

Alice took a bite, and immediately ballooned in size.  "What's
happening to me?" she asked.

/Naughty, naughty,/ Ozma thought.  /Shouldn't choose a costume
without having read the story./

"You're growing, my lady!" D'artangan shouted up to her.  Alice
was already 10 feet high, and it didn't look it was going to stop
anytime soon.  "You should leave here while you still can."

Alice dashed for the door, crouching down to make it through, the
rest of the company following her.  Within minutes, Alice was as
tall as the castle.  "Oh, dear.  Now what do I do?"

"Look for a bottle that says, 'Drink me'!" Ozma called up to her.

Alice nodded, the rush of air knocking Peter Pan down.  "Oh,
dear.  I better get out of here."  She left, walking off into the
distance.

Ozma watched the thirty foot high Alice moving off through the
underbrush and giggled.  And this was only the start of things! 
This was going to be an entertaining evening!

The captain went back inside and took his seat at the table, the
rest of the party straggling inside with him.  He didn't want to
ruin the party by canceling the program just to find out if Q
were real.  And he didn't want to ruin the party for himself by
giving himself away as the captain, which made it difficult to
ask his officers any questions.  If indeed, they were his
officers and not holograms.  If it were Q, he seemed content not
to personally jab at the captain as long as Picard was in
disguise, so breaking out of character might not be a wise idea
anyway.  At least, for the moment, Q's pranks were harmless.  And
Picard wasn't sure whether what had happened to Alice was a prank
of Q's or part of the original program.  It could be either.  It
was impossible to say.

But that wouldn't stop him from asking questions.  He leaned over
to Zorro, seated next to him.  Although costumed as Zorro, the 
man was not behaving in character, which led Picard to believe
that this person at least was a member of his crew.

"Do you think that's really Q?" Picard asked.

Zorro shook his head.  "I know Data said he wanted to find a
costume no one would ever think was him..."

Picard stared at Q in horror.  "He wouldn't."

"You know Data."

"Dear Lord.  But are you sure?"

Zorro shook his head.  "Who can be sure of anything?  Until Q
does something impossible to do on the holodeck, there's no way
to know without canceling the program."

"What would you consider impossible?"

Zorro shook his head again.  "I don't know.  Some of the things
I've seen tonight I would have called impossible.  Worf flying,
for instance.  Our *voices* changing.  And these complete
disguises.  But they're obviously an integral part of the
program."  His voice was colored with admiration, "Data did a
great job of programming this.  The only things I can think of
which would obviously be acts of Q are those that would engage
the safety locks -- life endangering actions, those that would be
contrary to the intent of this main program, such as causing
images of the real us to appear, or things which are impossible
for anyone here to duplicate except Q, such as telepathy.  But
like I said, I would've called some of things I've seen
impossible, and yet I'm sure they're part of the program."

Picard pondered Zorro's remarks.  "If Q is merely someone
masquerading as Q, then action needs to be taken to keep this
from reoccurring.  If Q's going to show up, I at least want to
*know* it's Q."

"Definitely.  But is he Data?"

Picard dismissed the question with an arch of his brow, moving
onto another subject.  "Who is that with Q?  I don't think she's
a hologram."

Zorro studied Ozma of Oz.  "She was here before any of us were. 
I didn't see here in the entrance hall and I came in before
anyone else here.  Same with Q."

"So?"

"So she's probably our real host, Lieutenant Deshanya, which also
makes it likely that Q is our other host, Data."  Zorro's voice
dropped in contempt on Lieutenant Deshanya's name.

"But you don't think that's likely," Picard asked questioningly.

"No.  I know Deshanya, and I know her work.  She's shy,
standoffish.  She doesn't talk with any of the people, doesn't
socialize.  The only thing she does do is play with her
holograms.  There's no way she could be Ozma.  Look at her."

Ozma was sitting on the couch, half leaning against Q, smiling at
a witticism of his, and obviously enjoying herself greatly.

"The Lieutenant Deshanya I know would have fainted dead away if
she was caught kissing like we caught Q and Ozma kissing.  You
can tell this woman isn't embarrassed at all."

Juliet leaned over.  "Masking oneself is a common refuge for shy
people.  They feel they can express themselves more freely when
they're playing a role.  It could be that the lieutenant is
compensating in this manner."

Picard nodded.  "That makes sense."  His eyebrows met in a
worried look. "She needs to be warned about the dangers and the
consequences of playing with Q.  If indeed, that is Q."  He could
penalize her, possibly even courtmartial her for consorting
willingly with Q, but that would be unfair in the extreme if the
lieutenant was unaware that this Q was the *real* Q.  How could
she know?  How could anyone know for certain?  After all, it
*was* a costume party.

Zorro's voice held a note of scorn.  "That's not her.  You don't
know the lieutenant.  Heck, she didn't even do the programming
for this party.  She had to have Data do it for her.  She's a
dull, lifeless little snot.  There's no way she could be Ozma."

"Aren't you being hard on her?"

Zorro laughed scoffingly.  "On her?  No way.  She's not a team
player.  All she ever thinks about are her holograms, and she
can't even program them for herself."

Ozma heard that remark, and turned away from people at the table,
unconsciously huddling closer to Q, who seemed the only bastion
of safety, the only one who hadn't demeaned or underestimated
her.

He bent close to her, his lips brushing her ear.  "I tried to
turn them into the jackasses that they are before.  Have you
reconsidered my offer?"

She looked up him, face hidden from the partygoers at the table,
eyes sheened with tears.   Her voice was broken, laughter mixing
with tears, as she said, "You're right.  What was I thinking?"

His eyes glinted with dangerous mischief.  "Would you like me
to?"

She curled closer to him, seeking comfort.  "No.  I wouldn't want
them to think they upset me with their stupid remarks."

"But they have."  His lips narrowed, and his voice was cutting. 
"I could make them pay, if you like."

She stared blankly at the Starfleet insignia on his tunic, his
offer hardly registering.  "They're wrong, you know.  I did all
the programming.  I got Data to help with planning the party
because he was the only one who was interested at all in my
ideas, the only one who didn't make fun of me.  He helped me
think up some of the things that are going to happen tonight, and
I created some programs specifically to keep him from being
guessed."  She looked up at Q earnestly.  "That's pretty hard. 
Data's easy to pick out."

Q smiled indulgently at her, holding her close to him.  In a
moment, the other people at the table would realize the embrace
had gone on too long to be casual, and would notice something was
wrong.  A waltz began playing in the ballroom, faintly heard in
the banquet hall.

"Shall we dance?" Q asked, just loud enough to be heard by the
other people seated around the table.

Ozma nodded so fractionally that it couldn't be seen, just felt
against his chest.  Q took note of that.  Sensation.  How
interesting.

With a dazzle of light, they were gone, leaving the other
partygoers shaking their heads.

"Doesn't the tension just seem to drain from the room when he's
gone?"

The Cowardly Lion stretched and stood up, opening his mouth in a
yawn.  "Impolite chap.  I do suppose we should trot along and
find Ozma."

The Hungry Tiger stretched as well.  "A little warning, about not
running off with our princess, perhaps?"

"I'd be too scared."

"I'll do it.  I'm feeling hungry tonight."  They looked at each
other and bounded off in search of Ozma.

Juliet looked speculatively at Romeo.  "For a Q, he's being quite
gallant tonight.  Not that I could say the same of my own date."

Romeo looked abashed.  "I can't dance while Q's in there. 
Anything could happen."

"So?  If you don't, something's going to happen in here."

He stared at her for a moment, then realized he'd rather put up
with more of Q's so far mild antics than the full scale wrath of
the woman next to him.  "Would you care to dance?"

"Certainly."  Juliet smiled at him and took his hand, and Romeo
led her into the ballroom.  It was a large, domed room, with full
length windows on all sides, overlooking a bay.  The room was
done in gold colors, and classical music was being played by
musicians seated in a box over their heads.

As Romeo and Juliet waltzed together, Romeo noticed that the
ballroom was close to being crowded.  "Where did all of these
people come from?"

Juliet looked around.  "Probably just holograms.  Filling up the
space to make it look more festive.  A nice touch, really."

"But why are so many of them dressed like us?"  He gestured down
at their Renaissance style garb.

Before Juliet could answer him, a hand grabbed Romeo's shoulder
and spun him around.  "Montague!"

Romeo blinked.  A short man, bearing a great familial resemblance
to Juliet, was glowering at him and fingering his sword.  "Leave
my sister alone!"

"And you are?"

"Don't play that game with me, Montague.  You know who I am, and
you know full well that she's engaged to be married!"  Tybalt
sneered at Romeo, before turning and stalking off.

Romeo turned around to laugh off the incident with Juliet as an
amusing scene set up to take advantage of their choice of
costumes, when he found her not there.  He scanned the room. 
Faintly, he heard a woman's voice protesting.  He pushed his way
through the crowd, and saw Juliet being dragged off by a tall,
portly man.

Romeo was about to start after Juliet, when a couple waltzed in
front of him.  Q held Ozma close, while smirking at Romeo.  Romeo
glared at Q and Ozma impartially.  If he hadn't done it, then she
had.  Romeo dashed out of the hall, on his way to rescue the fair
Juliet.

"So does he kill himself at the end of the evening?" Q asked.

"Hmm?" Ozma asked, then smiled.  "No, I didn't plan it that way. 
I suppose he could if he wanted to, although he probably couldn't
get away with it without crashing the program.

Q's eyes glinted.  "Pity.  And what becomes of the fair Juliet?"

"If she doesn't get rescued, she gets to attend the midnight
ceremony as Paris' bride.  The wedding's spectacular.  I almost
hope she doesn't get rescued, so we can see it."

"And what happens to Romeo?"

"Depends.  I have a scenario worked up where he attends as
Tybalt's prisoner, but that's assuming Tybalt can do the job.  He
failed in the play, after all."  Her tone made it quite clear
that she was disgusted with Tybalt.

Q laughed.  "I could learn to like you.  You think like me."

She smiled back at him, a mischievous grin twisting her face. 
"Is that a compliment?"

He didn't answer her, instead swirling her more fully into the
dancing.

There are people who dance, and then there are dancers.  Ozma was
unsurprised to find that Q was a dancer.  He moved effortlessly
around the ballroom floor, guiding her with slight changes in the
pressure of his hands.  It seemed fitting that an omnipotent
being would be able to dance.  If he couldn't dance, then he
wouldn't be able to do anything, now would he?  On the other
hand, when would he ever have learned to dance?

She must have asked the question out loud, because Q answered
her.

"In between my poker games."

He said it with such a straight face that she was surprised into
a laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ozma saw a ship moving out in the
bay through the large windows.  She grabbed Q's hand, and pulled
him over to a window seat.  Kneeling on the seat, she looked out
over the water.  "It's starting!"

The Cowardly Lion settled himself on one side of the window. 
"Don't run off again," he said lazily to Q.

The Hungry Tiger laid down on the other side.  "I don't know
about you, but I'm working up an appetite."

Q stepped past them, coming up behind Ozma to look out the
window.  He was interested despite himself.

Ozma leaned back into him, pointing at the scene below.  "Can you
see it?"  Out in the bay, there was a pirate ship pulled up into
dock.

"And what have we here?"

"Look!"  On the shore, a little ball of light was dragging a very
reluctant Peter Pan out to the ship.  A pirate with a hand
missing came down to meet him, welcoming him onboard, where Peter
was immediately bound to the mast.  The ship set sail without
delay.

Ozma clapped her hands together, face worried.  "Oh, dear.  He
was captured."  She looked up at Q.  "That's in the script, as a
possibility, but I didn't think it'd happen.  Not with you-know-
who playing Peter Pan."

"If..."

She ran blithely over him.  "Of course, this way the Lost Boys
get to rescue him.  I even got Alexander to be their leader,
although that took some doing since it's past his bedtime."

She turned around and sat down, clutching her knees.  "You do
know that we're the only ones left here now."

He looked around them, seeing only holograms remaining in the
ballroom.  "How very true."

"I hope you're not bored, but I didn't make up any adventures for
myself, since that wouldn't have been any fun.  And I didn't make
any up for you, since I didn't know you were coming."  She
frowned.  "It's even worse because we can't even watch most of
them, like Alice in Wonderland, since there's no way to see
them."

Q seated himself neatly beside her, royalty ensconced on its
throne.  "Tell me what happens to them."

She smiled at him.  "Zorro's either in jail or rescuing a fair
maiden.  D'artangan's finding that adventures aren't nearly as
much fun when you get shot at for real, and that drunken
companions who behave like idiots aren't particularly fun
either."

Q's laugh echoed menacingly in the hall, frightening some of the
hologram guests, and causing the Cowardly Lion to try to hide
under the trailing hem of Ozma's skirt.  Ozma was oblivious.

"Alice is down a rabbit hole, and you know about the others. 
Inevitably, they all get led or dragged back here by midnight. 
Hope they got something to eat earlier."

"Does it amuse you to be able to play God here?" Q studied her
like a taxidermist studies a live deer.

Ozma nodded.  "In a way.  It's more of an obsession."  She swept
her hand across the ballroom.  "This is as real as my life gets. 
It's all pretend, but it's real enough to me."  She hugged her
knees again.  "Of course, it's still awfully lonely sometimes."

"Being a god frequently is."

She looked up at him and smiled.  "You'd understand if anyone
would."

He looked away from her, out at the swirling holograms in the
ballroom, swatches of color and light.  "Space is cold, and dark
and very lonely."

She slipped her hand into his.

Startled, he looked at her.  She was staring down at the Cowardly
Lion, lost in thought.

Suddenly, she looked up.  "I know how we could watch it all! 
C'mon!"

Ozma dragged Q back to the banquet hall with her, then whispered
a word to her wand, and the Magic Picture appeared, ready to show
them any event which they desired to watch.

Q smiled sinisterly.  "It wouldn't be against the rules to
interfere a little, would it?"

****

D'artangan struggled up the muddy slope to the top of the hill,
the sound of battle continuously around him.

Porthos grabbed his tunic, pulling him down.  "You won't live
long, boy, if you stick your head out like that!"

Aramis tossed D'artangan a jug of wine, and went back to eating
his picnic lunch as cannonballs sailed over their heads.

****

Peter Pan sailed down from the rigging, dagger in hand, not
comfortable with flying yet, but ready to use any weapon he had.

He missed the pirate captain, who agilely stepped back to avoid
him.  Unfortunately, there was only the railing of the ship
behind him, and the pirate hit it exactly mid-knee, sending him
off balance, and pinwheeling his arms to keep from falling.

Peter hovered in the air, watching Hook teeter on the edge, and
then fall overboard with a resounding splash.

From below, Peter could hear an ominous ticking.

****

The cat loomed over Alice, who was nearly as big as a mouse
herself.

The cat's hungry thoughts frightened her.  She didn't know how it
had been done, but it was a real cat standing over her.  It was
impossible for the cat to eat her -- she was several times larger
than the cat, no matter what the holodeck program was making her
appear to be, but her gut said something else.

Slowly, Alice reached into one of her pockets, searching for the
bottle labeled 'Drink me', hoping it wasn't empty.

****

Romeo struggled against his bonds.  He was locked in the
Capulet's wine cellar, to be held until Juliet was married.

"Hist!"

A sharp whistle from the window caught his attention.  It was a
very small window, and he hadn't been looking forward to trying
to get through it once he'd gotten out of his bonds.

A strange man poked his head through.  "Damn and I'm glad I found
you."

Romeo nodded.  "I feel the same."

The man wriggled through the window head first, tumbling in mid
air as he fell, to land on his feet like a cat.  His face was
merry, and his demeanor brash.

Romeo made a guess.  "Well met, Mercutio."

Mercutio grinned at him.  "You were expecting the Duke of
Verona?"  With a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled out his
knife, and cut the ropes binding his friend.

Romeo stumbled to his feet, rubbing his wrists to restore the
circulation.

Mercutio cocked his head.  "Pray, what kind of trouble shall we
cause now?"

"We have a wedding to stop, my friend."

****

Juliet fretted in her wedding dress, her "family" hovering around
her to make sure she didn't run off on this joyous occasion.

Would this ridiculous simulation extend to a wedding night?  She
shuddered in distaste.  It was quite possible that it would.  It
had already gone on far longer than she would have believed, and
while she was getting rather tired of this, there didn't seem to
be any way of stopping it.  She was trapped, and unless she
thought of something, she was about to be married off to someone
she didn't even know.

Juliet reviewed the various ways she knew to disable a man. 
Paris was too lustful for her liking.

****

A Z slashing into the villain's shirt, a bow to the lovely lady
and then Zorro rode off into the night.  He could get to like
this.

****

Peter Pan sat down to dinner with the Lost Boys, who immediately
began pelting him with rotten fruit.  The leader of the
insurrection was a leaf-clad Alexander, quite recognizable and
undisguised beyond the clothing he was wearing.

"Go to bed!" Peter roared at Alexander.

"Lost boys don't go to bed.  Lost boys don't have parents."

"Where did you hear that?!"

"Laine said so."

"*Who*?"

"Lieutenant Deshanya."

Peter growled menacingly.  One lieutenant.  The captain would
never even notice one missing lieutenant.

****

Alice played croquet with the Queen of Hearts on a field of
glossy green.  She had gotten away from the cat, only to fall
into this.  At least now, she didn't seem to be in any danger of
being eaten.  Here and there about the lawn, card soldiers were
bent over as wickets.  With a flamingo as a mallet and a hedgehog
for a croquet ball, Alice tried to keep up with the Queen even
though she was unable to persuade her flamingo to keep its head
down so she could bash her hedgehog.

Q and Ozma played alongside them, with the Cowardly Lion and the
Hungry Tiger snorting the hedgehogs through the wickets, and
doing rather better at it than their two-legged competitors,
whose hedgehogs tended to unroll themselves and wander off.  Q
was dressed in a candy striped seersucker suit with a straw hat,
and Ozma carried a pink parasol, which she was using in lieu of a
flamingo.

The supply of hedgehogs slowly dwindled throughout the game until
finally, Q had the only one.  Ozma suspected him of using Q
powers to keep it from running off.  Certainly he was doing
*something* to his flamingo to get it to keep its head down.

But the Queen had the Aces of Diamonds and Clubs out looking for
hedgehogs, which were unexplainedly disappearing entirely instead
of just hiding until the game was over as was their usual wont. 
Finally, after catching him in the act of swallowing a hedgehog
whole, the culprit was identified as the Hungry Tiger.

The Queen chased the tiger off the field, yelling, "Off with his
head!"

"Oh, dear," Ozma said.  "I hope he doesn't hurt her."

****

The chapel was full of wedding guests, all richly dressed for
this very important wedding between Juliet and Paris, which would
unite two important families and cement business arrangements
which otherwise held all the force of parchment.

Only something was very wrong.

The bride's father and bridegroom each had a knife pressed to
their throats, and at Juliet's side stood Romeo, looking
disheveled but triumphant.  He took Juliet's arm, and addressed
the priest, who was facing away from them, no doubt praying for
assistance from God to overcome this unseemly intrusion.

"Father, we'd like you to marry us instead."

The priest turned, and to his horror, Romeo saw that he was Q.

Q smiled.  "Certainly, I will.  But I get the middle of the bed."

Romeo glared at him.  "Q!  What are you doing here?"

"Temper, temper, mon ami.  Where else would I be on a momentous
occasion such as this?"

Mercutio burst into the back of the chapel.  "Romeo, make haste. 
Our allies stand ready."

Romeo dropped his glare at Q.  "All right, let's get on with it."

The ceremony was short and swift, a nod to the bride's family,
nothing more.

"You may now harass the bride," Q said, in person of priest.

With Q staring gleefully at him, Romeo turned to Juliet, his eyes
silently begging forgiveness for the liberty he was about to
take.

She took his hands, leaning into him as he gently kissed her.

"You may have married my daughter, Montague, but I assure you
death will sever those bonds far sooner than you ever believed!"
an angry Lord Capulet shouted.

Mercutio poked him with his dagger.  "Romeo, methinks a hasty
escape would be in order!"

Romeo held Juliet close, not quite willing to let go.  "Yes, yes,
I understand."

****

Zorro clung grimly to the horse with his legs.  His hands were
tied around the saddle bow.  When he got out of this, he was
going to hunt Data down and reassemble his components into a
replicator.

****

Romeo turned to Juliet, as they hid in the doorway of a shop,
waiting for the mob to pass them by.  Mercutio had died covering
their escape from the chapel, as Tybalt had turned up late and
unexpected, ambushing them as they left.  "This isn't supposed to
be happening.  It certainly isn't in the play.  We've got to find
Data and have him get us out of this."

"How can he work against Q?" Juliet asked.

"Q appears to be operating within the limits of the original
programming, if indeed he is Q.  Only Data can circumvent that,
since he programmed it."

"But who is Data?"

They stared blankly at each other.

"Don't you know?"

"Damnit.  Is he even here?  And assuming that he is, who could he
be?"

"We could just ask everyone who was at the party earlier," Juliet
threw off lightly.

He stared grimly at her.  "We may have to."

"And if Data is Q?"

Romeo shook his head.  "I don't believe he is."

One by one, they collected members of the crew.  Zorro was more
than happy to be rescued from his jail cell.  Alice they found
sleeping under a tree, book in hand.  Peter Pan found them on his
own, towing a reluctant Alexander behind him.  None of them were
Data.  It was only with great effort that Romeo finally
remembered D'artangan, and tracked him down, saving the honor of
Queen of France.

D'artangan was easily convinced to help them, although he would
have preferred to play the program out to its end.

"Gentlemen, I did not program this," D'artangan said. 
"Lieutenant Deshanya is responsible for this program."

"Deshanya?  But she couldn't program her way out of a dress
tunic!"

"I assure you, Geordi, that Lieutenant Deshanya was indeed the
programmer in question.  It was her skill that enabled me to
disguise myself successfully over the course of the party."

"That's skill, all right," Zorro agreed.  He thought a minute. 
"Damnit!  That means Q could be her work as well!"

"Q?  How could Lieutenant be responsible for that rogue?" Romeo
asked.

"Captain, Q has done nothing tonight that couldn't have been done
by a hologram.  I would've said before tonight that the things
he's done couldn't be done, but Deshanya has proven that they
can."

"A remarkable display of programming sophistication," D'artangan
agreed.

"Could he be someone else?  Someone from the Enterprise?" Zorro
asked.

Alice shook her head.  "I felt nothing from Q.  He either is Q,
or a hologram."

Zorro turned to Romeo.  "That's it, then.  He's a hologram."

Romeo's face was bland.  He didn't believe anything had been
proven.  "If Q is Q, do you believe the lieutenant can break this
programming?"

"Deshanya is completely in Q's power," Zorro said.  "She wouldn't
help us!"

"Counsellor?" Romeo asked.

"The lieutenant *is* infatuated with Q, or the hologram
impersonating Q.  I can't predict what her actions would be.  She
feels a strong loyalty towards Starfleet, but is disaffected with
her own department."  Alice looked at Zorro, who failed to
notice.

"Well, Data?" Romeo asked.

D'artangan nodded.  "Computer, end program."

Nothing happened.

"Computer, arch."  Nothing happened.

The other officers took seats as it became apparent that this
could take a while.  Finally, after half an hour, D'artangan gave
up.

"Captain, the program is unresponsive to all commands, as far as
I can ascertain."

"Geordi, didn't you reprogram the holodeck so that commands to
the computer could not be locked out?" Romeo asked.

Zorro looked up helplessly.  "Somehow, Deshanya managed to bypass
that.  Or the program's so far out of control that it swamped the
computer and overcame the protections."

D'artangan tilted his head.  "Not so.  She has used her wand
repeatedly throughout the evening to convey commands.  It is my
conjecture that the wand is a type of interface to the computer,
and that the computer has merely been instructed to regard its
name as whatever she has reassigned it as."

"Let's find her then."

****

Ozma and Q were back at the castle, playing chess.  Q was
winning, but not by much, since both players were cheating
outrageously.  Ozma had thrown up a hologram chess board on the
wall behind Q, on which the best moves for her to make as
determined by the computer were being displayed.  Q's cheating
was more blatant:  he simply moved the pieces from square to
square when she wasn't looking, using his powers.  The stakes
were high, the Emerald City versus the Milky Way, and both
players intent on winning.

Zorro confronted Ozma.  "We want to leave."

Ozma stared at him and the other muddy people accompanying him. 
They looked very out-of-place in the fine surroundings of the
castle.  "Why?  It's not midnight yet.  We haven't had the
unmasking yet.  You'll ruin everything."

"But the program's run wild."

"Nothing's wrong with the program."

Turning to his fellows, Zorro announced, "I knew she'd say that. 
She's in Q's powers."

Ozma turned red and stood, whispering to her wand.

Immediately, an arch formed.  "The program has *not* run wild. 
The computer is responsive to commands, if given in the proper
format."

Ozma whispered again to her wand and the arch disappeared, just
before Zorro could reach it.  "The program will automatically end
just after midnight."

She smiled sweetly, adding a caveat.  "Of course, anyone can
leave at any time, by exiting through the door they came in."

Zorro looked at D'artangan with a dumbfounded expression, not
having thought of anything that archaic.

Romeo stepped up.  "Lieutenant, I order you to cancel this
program now."

Q stepped in front of her.  "I wouldn't do that if I were you,
mon capitaine."

"And why not, may I ask?"

"Because I outrank you."

"I'm wearing no uniform at all, but that doesn't make me a
civilian.  Q, what is the purpose of this little farce?"

"Simple, really.  I'm surprised even your little minds haven't
grasped it yet.  With the exception of the Fairy Dust Boy over
there.  I'm surprised he's even on the ground."

Worf growled.

"Q!" Romeo said, pulling Q to the side, his voice threatening,
with overtones of impatience and frustration.

"Oh, all right, if you're going to be dense about it, Lieutenant
Deshanya is responsible for all the illusions seen here tonight. 
Aside from a few parlor tricks, hardly worthy of mention, all of
this was accomplished through her programming, and not the powers
of the Q."

"And?"

"And you have been repeatedly ridiculing and demeaning her
abilities despite my own considerable efforts to show you who was
truly responsible for the night's extremely diverting
entertainment."

Romeo regarded Q with growing exasperation.  "That's it?  That's
the whole reason you've put us through this torment?"

"Haven't you been listening, Jean-Luc?  I haven't put you through
anything.  *She* is responsible for everything.  Isn't it
delightful?  I haven't found a member of your race yet with such
a sense of humor."

Romeo was not amused.  "Not even Vash?"

Q's face darkened.  "Your jealousy does not become you, Jean-
Luc."  He stepped close to Romeo, to drip slow poison into his
ear.  "You really should courtmartial her, you realize.  She
doesn't belong on your ship.  Not an unpredictable,
irresponsible, insubordinate creature like her."

Romeo regarded Q coolly.  "I thought you liked her."

"Oh, but I do."

"Is this how you treat all your objects of affection?"

"My, my, Jean-Luc.  I almost think you care for her.  You really
are jealous, aren't you?  Shame on you.  You're a married man
now."

Before Picard could retort, Q pulled a communicator from his
pocket.  "Q to Enterprise.  One to beam up."  And he disappeared
in a haze of transporter light, leaving the people behind him
gnashing their teeth.

They descended like vultures upon their prey, only the presence
of the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger bristling at Ozma's
side restraining Peter Pan from physical action.

"If you would, Lieutenant?" Romeo wearily repeated.  "We'll go
over this in the morning.  For now, I'll settle for all my people
safely home."

Ozma whispered to her wand, and the arch reappeared.  The people
around her shimmered and reappeared as themselves, somewhat
battered, but none the worse for wear.  She remained the same,
seated on her couch, stoically waiting for them to leave.

Worf and Troi left first with Alexander dragging his feet, Worf
snarling, "We will talk about acceptable bedtimes for children
later, lieutenant."  Deanna glanced back with concern at Ozma,
but did not speak.

The good doctor followed them, her chief concern getting back to
work.  She looked back at Picard, who motioned to her to leave,
saying, "I'll catch up with you in a moment, Beverly."

La Forge lingered a moment, "Lieutenant, I... I wanted to
apologize for what I said at dinner.  I... was... wrong."

Ozma inclined her head to him graciously, "Apology accepted."

Data passed by next.  "A wonderful party, Elaine.  I hope we can
do this again sometime."

"Sure, Data."

Picard lingered until last.  "As much as I admire your
programming abilities, Lieutenant, I cannot approve of the uses
you've put them to in your quest for vengeance.  The use of Q as
a character in your program was an especially tasteless touch.  I
regret to say this, but your career in Starfleet is almost
certainly over."

Ozma nodded, not speaking.  There were no excuses to be offered. 
She hadn't tried for vengeance, but the results of what she'd
done were clear.

Picard waited until she glanced up at him.  When she did, she saw
a compassion in his eyes that almost broke her.  He turned and
left the holodeck.

She whispered to the wand, closing the arch so no one else could
look at her failure and mock.  She looked down at her fairy
dress, and with a whispered command, shut down the main part of
the program and became Lieutenant Deshanya again.  The Cowardly
Lion and Hungry Tiger disappeared as well.  It wasn't even
midnight yet, and already the magic had fled.  "Computer, run
program Deshanya-Party-Cleanup-1."  Once the real, non-hologram
remains of the party had been cleaned up, she could cancel the
rest of the program and leave.

"Computer, run program Deshanya-Transport, location: Bay Shore." 
She had a number of pre-programmed locations for that program,
and the computer deposited her at her destination as neatly as
you please.

She looked out over the waters.  Deeply depressed, she kicked at
the sand with the tip of her shoe.  It was all over now, even the
shouting, all over but the funeral.

Q appeared in his characteristic burst of light.

"Oh, joy," she said, tonelessly.  She knew him for what he was
now.  Not a character at all, but the real Q.  "Come to upset my
life further?"

"They appear to have abandoned you, my dear, as I will not.  If
you come with me now, I'll show you the wonders of the universe. 
You don't belong with these limited beings; your talents are
greater than they can imagine how to use."

Deshanya looked up at him.  He was *still* taller than she was,
damnit.  "I'm one of those limited beings too, but that which I
am, I am."

"You're desperately unhappy here.  And Picard is going to have
you stripped of your rank and drummed out of Starfleet."

Her eyes dimmed.  "Yes, I know.  He told me."

"So, come with me.  You have no better options, you know."

She thought about it, really thought about it.  It was an
intriguing offer.  But she'd be no better than a playtoy to Q. 
The only thing she enjoyed doing here was her holograms.  Q had
no use for those.  He played with reality.  And she couldn't join
in.  For one brief second, she wished she could accept, but knew
she couldn't.  "I'm an outcast here, among my *own* kind.  Among
your kind, I'd be a freak, a circus sideshow.  Thank you, but
no."

He held out his hand to her, and she took it, gratefully
accepting any source of comfort.  Without moving further, he was
holding her.  Q said softly, "I can give you this."

A wave of sensual bliss washed over her.  Vaguely aware of
clutching onto his arms for balance, she struggled not to go
under.  Her skin was too hot everywhere.  Her own arms burned
where he held her and she moaned, wanting to burn that way all
over.

She swayed against him, but with one last shred of sanity,
managed to spit out, "But what would I give you?"

"Many things."

"Name one."

Q refused to give in to her that easily.  This time he held
nothing back, and she lost all of her senses, unaware whether she
stood or lay on the ground sobbing.  All she was aware of was
him, with her in the blackness, touching her, not touching her,
caressing her, murmuring sensual, delicious words she was unable
to understand.

Then his voice was whispering sensuously, seductively, in her
ear.  "I could provide you with sexual experiences far beyond
anything in your human imagination."

For some reason, tired and with all her defenses down, all she
could think of were cabbages, and Q earnestly making love to one
while promising it all the kingdoms of the earth and stock
options besides, and she broke down into helpless, half-
hysterical giggles.

Immediately the soothing strength supporting her was removed, and
she swayed from the backlash.  Q didn't let her fall, but
suddenly he seemed a million miles away instead of inside her
head with her.

"You are almost as infuriating as that stubborn captain of yours. 
My offer is entirely serious, you realize."

With an effort, she forced the giggles to stop.  "I know," she
said, choking the words out.  "But I... I'm not ready for that
kind of honor."

"But I'm Q!"

"I'm sorry.  What'd you want me to do about it?"

His eyes narrowed.  "I'm trying to do you a favor.  It would be
to your benefit to exhibit gratitude toward me."

Before she could stop herself, and knowing it was entirely the
wrong thing to do to someone with his sense of dignity, she went
down on her knees, hands flung over her head and touching the
ground.  "O, mighty Q, ruler of all."  The giggles were
irrepressible.  "All hail to thee, mighty one."

Snuffing her out of existence flashed through his mind, or what
he used for a mind.  It wasn't often someone was able to irritate
him this much, and rarely ever a mortal.  It was too bad she
wouldn't go with him; she would be valuable entertainment for
weeks.  Maybe even months.   For a brief moment, he considered
telling her that he needed her, that he personally wanted her to
come with him.  If it had been a lie, he would have said it.

With a sigh, he changed scenes, putting her back on her feet and
himself in a long trenchcoat with a fedora on his head.

"Listen up, kid.  Almost certainly is not the same as certainly. 
It will definitely not be the same in the morning.  Jean-Luc has
a disturbing tendency towards mercy, and he will decide sometime
tonight that you were a victim rather than an offender.  You'll
keep your rank."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He grinned at her.  "Maybe I like you."

She grinned back.  "Nahhh."

He tipped his hat to her.  "Keep up the good work, kid.  And
remember, we'll always have Holodeck Two."  He smiled evilly at
her, as he took her chin in his hand and kissed her.  Then, with
his characteristic flash, he was gone for real.

-the end-


AFTERWORD:

Captain's Log

I have decided not to discipline Lieutenant Deshanya for her role
in this incident, due in part to intercession from her direct
superior, Commander LaForge, and in part to my own belief that
her talents are too valuable to be wasted because of one
unfortunate incident.  A warning has been placed in her record,
and her future holodeck programming will be carefully monitored. 
A commendation has also been placed in her record at the
recommendation of Commander LaForge, for superior performance and
outstanding achievement in the area of holodeck programming.


Captain's Personal Log

I believe I've made the right decision with regards to Lieutenant
Deshanya, but for some reason, despite the fact that Q was never
involved in this all along, I keep having this feeling that he's
looking over my shoulder and laughing.

I am planning to review the performance of other personnel who
have been at their present ranks and/or positions for an
unfavorably long period of time.  It has occurred to me, that if
indeed Q were involved in this incident, that he was making an
example of Deshanya, rather than singling her out for special
attention.  If this is the case, then to not review the other
records would be to cause him to make his point once again, a
consummation most devoutly not to be wished.

Deshanya has neither confirmed or denied Q's presence in this
incident, and I find myself happier not knowing.