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Chapter Text

He traced the object of his obsession through time as he often did, idly fingering the threads of various possible timelines. He knew the past of this timeline very well, and he could see all the other versions of the past equally well, all the paths not taken, at least not in this universe. He could feel as his beloved trudged through the timeline and made decisions that further solidified the future ahead. The future itself was a cloud of probabilities, with an infinite tangle of threads that spelled out all possible futures. He knew each path by heart, knew each outcome given any decision, and every time a decision was made he could feel the future shift ever so slightly along with it.
A large shift rippled throughout the timeline, jolting him out of his reverie. He checked the new most probable outcome, then checked again. A future that was previously so improbable he hadn’t given a second thought was increasingly likely.

Damn Borg. The continuum isn’t going to like this… he thought to himself while he formulated a plan. He wasn’t supposed to interfere, but how could he not? The future had shifted, his love’s fate in disarray.
Picard would’t be happy with him, but what is an omnipotent god to do? He had to fix the timeline, and quickly. Picard, with his infinite hubris, wouldn’t be convinced easily, so extreme methods must be used. He must be made to see with his own eyes.

He examined the futures again, plucking a thread with the desired outcome. A terribly unlikely future as it stood, so he couldn’t resolve this subtly. He checked his plan, comparing it against all other actions he could take (aside from completely restarting the universe, but that would be just a tad too far, even for a Q).

Yes, his plan would succeed, the most likely one to succeed of all scenarios, and Q couldn’t leave anything up to chance lest he have to involve himself more. The future would be painful for Jean-Luc, and it would seem a close call, but humanity would make it. He would make it. He briefly wondered if the continuum would take away his powers, or if they’d just find themselves confused; why interfere with the timeline for a bunch of glorified primates?
He could deal with the consequences.

Mon Capitaine,

You'll hate me for this, I know. I haven't done it yet, but once I do I know what will happen, and trust me when I say it was better than the alternative. Out of all the possible timelines in the universe, I always endeavor to give you the best one.

Writing is such a very human thing, isn’t it? To communicate so imperfectly with words as opposed to just sharing the information outright. How frivolous! Yet I know how much you love to read (though you prefer tedious old tomes, you old bore), so here I am. The things I do for you, Jean-Luc…

Will you even know what I’m talking about? Will you find this, years later, and understand? Understand what I’m about to do, why I had to do it? It excites me, leaving notes scattered across the universe for you. You’ll find them and think of me. What exactly you’ll think I still don’t know.

Q

And that was that. He planted the letter in the inscribing on some old artifact Picard would come across during one of his future archaeology digs, chuckling as he considered the human’s reaction when he finally managed to translate the inscription.

Chapter Text

He had to act quickly, he could feel the Continuum preparing to strip his powers.

Oh Captain, my captain,

They actually did it! They actually decided to strip me of my powers after what I pulled.

When they asked, I requested to be a human on your ship, since if I have to be powerless, your ship is truly the only place I would want to be. I was afraid they’d reject my request, exile me to some remote planet and turn me into a bacteria. You’d probably prefer that outcome. But at least now I can keep an eye on you. I wonder if you’ll come to appreciate me as a member of your crew, in time. Ha! I can’t see myself as a member of your crew, under your command. It’s even more difficult to imagine myself as mortal. Corporeal.

I don’t want to be human.

Would you like me more, as a human?

Perhaps being mortal won’t be so terrible, roaming the stars with you.

See you on the bridge,

Q

With his last omnipotent thought, he placed his letter such that the next time Jean-Luc opened his worn copy of Anthony and Cleopatra, the first page would transform into his letter.

Chapter Text

Several years in the future, after spending weeks translating the inscription of a Ventanan vase he recovered during an archaeology expedition, Picard discovered the first letter from Q. A week later, he discovered that another one of Q’s letters had replaced the first page in his copy of Anthony and Cleopatra. Picard convened with his senior staff to determine what to do. After much deliberation, they all decided it was best for the Captain to respond. After all, ignoring Q might only escalate the incident, as it had so many times in the past, and responding might be the only way to determine Q’s motives.

He reread the messages, wondering what could motivate someone as powerful as Q to waste their time crafting silly notes. They didn’t taunt him, didn’t contain any noticeable threats to humanity. In fact, they seemed almost personal.

He also wondered how long these messages had been sitting around, waiting to be discovered. Q was stripped of his powers almost… nine years ago. Could Q have written a letter for each encounter they had, just waiting to be discovered? He remembered each visit from Q vividly, and wondered why he was receiving the letters now, after all this time.

Crafting his response was simple, but deciding how to deliver it was quite another. Q typically appeared at random, and Jean-Luc had no idea how to get the entity’s attention. He reread Q’s letters and reflected on the circumstances that prompted Q to appear in their earlier encounters. After two cups of tea, he sighed to himself as he finally realized the best way to get the attention of the elusive Q. It would be dangerous, and he wondered if it would even work. Still, it was the only idea he had so far.

Dear Q,

I must remind you that the purpose of sending a letter is to begin a conversation, not soliloquize. And yet, you have sent at least two letters without even the basic courtesy of including a return address. How many more of these messages await me? Moreover, what is the purpose of leaving me notes about actions you took in the past?

Whatever this game is, two can play at it.

Regards,

Jean-Luc

Q was existing as the event horizon of a black hole as it consumed a nebula, watching as it billowed across the threshold, never to return, when he felt the shift in the timeline. It was abrupt, and such a large shift at that. Then, it was gone, as if it had never occurred in the first place.

He instantly appeared at the source of the disturbance, a seemingly innocuous planet the Enterprise-E was surveying. He rewound time and watched as Captain Picard beamed down to the surface of the planet, walked into the forest, and placed a sealed envelope onto a nearby boulder. Then, Picard calmly strode to a nearby tree, plucked one of the poisonous red fruits off a branch, and brought it to his mouth for a bite. The instant his teeth broke the skin, he stopped, spit, and tossed the fruit over his shoulder. Q stared agape.

“Picard to Enterprise. One to beam up.”

The future is a shifty thing, changing its shape based on the whims of every individual and physical phenomena throughout the universe. Q chuckled as he realized how the Captain played him. He returned to the present day and plucked the letter from its perch on the boulder.

Chapter Text

Captain Picard had a feeling something else was behind the irregular planetary nebula they had observed. The spectra indicated high percentages of a variety of heavy elements that shouldn’t be present in the remnant of such a small star, yet here it was.

It was an arduous task, trying to make sense of all the data. Until finally, with the help of the computer, he arranged the elements in order of percentage, and converted the number of electrons and protons per element to binary, and converted that to English.

My dearest Captain,

How the tables have turned. Jean-Luc, you are the only person in this universe who can still surprise me. So, you’ve finally realized how to get my attention after all these years, finally realized what it is that beckons me to your side.

Still, resorting to personal harm just to get my attention is entirely unacceptable. Your hypothesis that I have more than a passing interest in keeping you alive is correct, and whenever your mortality is seriously threatened I notice. It was rude of me to leave you these letters without so much as a return address, but I had never dreamed that you’d want to begin a correspondence with little old me.

Leave your next letter in the same place you find this one. I’m so looking forward to reading it.

Q

Picard scoffed at the thought of simply beaming his response into space after all he went through to decipher Q’s letter. He might not be able to manipulate the composition of a planetary nebula, but he could make a letter that would hopefully require some effort on Q’s part to decode.

The letter was a list of numbers, and each number would become an exact date, time, and location. This would correspond to a particular author born on each date, and the first alpha-numeric character of the last book each author published would correspond to every character in the letter. He would also ensure not to repeat a single author.

Picard wondered if this would present any challenge to Q, or if he would know how to decode it the moment he read it. Although Q claimed to be omnipotent, he could clearly still be surprised. Either way, he found himself anticipating the reply.

“Computer, lock onto the paper in my hand and beam it directly into the white dwarf at the heart of the nebula.”
The letter faded to blue and dissolved.

Dear Q,

I hope you understand I couldn’t just hand you the letter, not after all you put me through to decipher your last letter. I’m not sure how being a Q works. Was my attempt to challenge you completely futile? Or were you able to decipher it with a touch?

But enough playing around. I have serious questions for you, Q. Why are you writing to me? Why this, for lack of a better word, obsession with me? With humanity? You just keep showing up, keeping me alive, and I doubt it’s at the behest of the Continuum. No, Q; this is entirely you.

I ask plainly. Why?

Regards,

Jean-Luc

Chapter Text

Q had been monitoring the planetary nebula, so when he felt the letter begin arrive in the heart of the white dwarf he reached through space and plucked it out of the transporter beam before it could vaporize. The moment he saw the jumble of numbers on the page he considered cheating, and almost peeked inside Jean-Luc’s head to watch as he initially wrote the letter, bypassing the hoops the Captain seemed to have left for him.

But no, Jean-Luc wanted to challenge him, as he had challenged Jean-Luc so many times. Of course the human would try to challenge a Q. He quickly converted the numbers to Federation time and space coordinates, and instantly took note of how each coordinate corresponded to the birth of some humanoid author. He watched the events of each author’s life simultaneously, searching for a clue. First, he tried their names, though that yielded nothing. Then, he examined the collective works of each author, combining all the letters of all their books in all possible ways, until finally, he had it.

My dear, dear, dear Jean-Luc,

Thank you for the challenge, it was certainly an interesting 30 seconds (your time) as I pieced together your clues. It was tempting to cheat as I’m not used to not having information readily available at my fingertips, but it was a unique experience. I look forward to seeing what puzzle you have for me next time.

So many questions you have! Of course my interest in you is personal — ever since I encountered you at Farpoint, you specifically have fascinated me. Humanity to a lesser extent. Why do you fascinate me? That’s like asking why the universe exists, or why you so desperately seek out new worlds and new civilizations. You ask me why I keep you alive? I cannot answer that. Some things simply are, mon Capitaine, and they can’t be explained.

A question I can answer is why I’m writing to you. First, because I thought it would be fun. But also, I felt I owed you an explanation. It’s the least I could offer for interfering in your life so many times. I also enjoy reminding you of my existence.

There are still 3 letters you haven’t found yet (not including this one).

Yours truly,

Q

P.S. Leave your reply when you find all the letters. Any old place will do.

Q hid this particular letter in the replicator in Picard’s quarters. Every time he ordered something, the replicator would malfunction and provide a different dish from a race in the Federation. The day of first contact with that race would, after some creative de-coding, yield the contents of the letter.

Chapter Text

After painstakingly piecing together the letter from the replicator malfunctions, Jean-Luc decided to seek out the next few letters. Although he doubted Q would repeat a delivery method, he opened each and every book, flipping through the pages to try to detect any discrepancies. For the next few weeks, he fixated on any anomaly the sensors picked up, and any time there was an unexpected deviation from his daily routine, he scanned the immediate area with a tricorder and examined the event with a proverbial fine-toothed comb.

As Picard laid in bed, trying but failing not to think of where one of the three letters from Q could be, he heard the swoosh of the doors to his quarters opening.

“Who’s there?” He asked, but there was no reply. Getting up, he walked out of his bedroom to investigate, grabbing his communicator. Instead of an intruder, he found a cat — Spot — swatting at a piece of paper on the floor of his quarters.

“Picard to Commander Data”

“Yes Captain?” Data replied

“I believe a feline companion of yours is currently in my quarters at the moment. Could you please retrieve her at your earliest convenience?”

“Yes Captain. I was wondering where she went. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Excellent” Picard replied.

When Data arrived in Picard’s quarters, he scooped up Spot.

“Sir?” Commander data asked the Captain.

“Yes, Mr. Data?”

“Does Q have something to do with this?”

“Yes, Mr. Data, I think so.”

Data retrieved Spot, and once he was gone Picard sat down to open the letter.

Tally ho, Picard!

Sherwood forest was a fun little excursion, wasn’t it? I honestly did come to see if I could pay you back for all you did for me when I was human, but then I saw you with that other human. Vash.

I was instantly curious. The aloof, unflappable Captain Picard had feelings that he would allow to come to the surface? Vulnerabilities that he would share with another person? This I had to see for myself. A new side to you: Captain Picard, the Lothario.

Don’t worry, you’re most decidedly not a Lothario. Using your human archetypes, I suppose you’re most like a Mr. Darcy: cold and aloof on the outside, but on the inside I suspect you’re nothing more than a hopeless romantic.

I’d like to think you rather enjoyed yourself, despite your protests. I know you were dreading that archeology speech, and it’s good to have some fun and indulge once in a while. Sometimes you (especially you) just need a little push.

-Q

Picard blushed as he remembered the Robin Hood recreation. In retrospect, it was rather enjoyable, though he would never have admitted it at the time.

Two letters remained. It seemed like the letters from the past weren’t the type he could seek out, and he wondered when the next two would arrive. Until then, he would focus his efforts on crafting his response — he was determined to provide a challenge that would take Q longer than 30 seconds to solve. After remembering his encounter with the Tamarians, he decided to go over the ships logs and ancient earth mythologies to create a code of his own.

The next letter arrived sooner than any of the previous, less than a week after Spot brought the last one. Jean-Luc rarely remembered his dreams, but tonight’s dream was vivid, almost real.

It was a simple dream, he was in an old western environment from 19th century North America. He stood on a deserted road when a stranger on horseback rode down the main road. As he approached the captain, the stranger tipped his oversized hat as a greeting, handed him a letter, tipped his hat again, then ambled away down the dusty road.

Dearest Jean-Luc,

This business with Amanda Rogers is nasty. I understand the continuum’s reasoning perfectly clearly. Underneath their surface claims about "governing their powers" and "responsibility," the truth is that they don’t want a possible “half-breed” polluting their precious continuum. So much of me wants to shout “so what?” Life can get so boring when it never ends, when nothing is a mystery, so why snuff out anything that has the possibility to liven things up?

Oh well. I’ll do what I must for the girl, I know you’d want me to preserve her. Though I truly don’t know what will happen if she really is a hybrid.

Eternally yours,

Q

The Captain awoke instantly, and though he worried about forgetting the letter, he found that every crease of the paper and every character on the page was burned into his memory.

Chapter Text

Q plants the next letter carefully. He nudges one of Keiko’s plants, the one that will yield a seed that will grow into a gift she’ll give to the Captain when she and Miles depart for Deep Space 9. It blooms infrequently, once every seven years, and the next time it blooms Captain Picard will find miniature words printed on its petals.

Jean-Luc,

Human bodies are so frail. Your human body is so frail, and frail is a word I would never want to ascribe to you.

I had never given much thought to the mechanics of your physical form, had never considered the crude metal heart that keeps you alive. Seeing you on that operating table was unexpected; that your thoughts were steeped in regret surprised me even more. How could you regret anything about yourself?

It was nice seeing you.

Q

When Captain Picard noticed the tiny print on the petals of the flower, he trimmed the bloom at the base of its stem and put it in a vase. He then tucked his response into the remaining branches of the plant and watched as it disappeared.

Dear Q,

You order delta-sequence when I lobby for truth.

You, as Riker en route to Quadra Sigma, Amanda Rogers on Tagra IV. But Hephaestus, Saraswati? Build with no tools, understand with no meaning? Starfleet cadets as they face the Kobayashi Maru. Think as a universal translator, but interpret as Data, Riker, Pulaski playing poker.

I dream of a bouquet of roses, I think as Shakespeare, Cummings, Browning.

Your soul, as Cupid.

Regards,

Jean-Luc.

Q read the letter once and laughed. The Captain hadn’t disappointed him at all, using a type of code that was much harder to interpret than simple alphanumeric patterns. This did take him longer than 30 seconds to interpret, since there was no real way (aside from cheating) to check that his solution was correct.

Although he couldn't be sure about the specific wording, he finally deciphered the letter:

Dear Q,

You keep evading my questions.

It’s clear the Q are powerful. But are the Q creative? Can you put together something without the promise of an exact translation, a direct cipher that neatly places each character in its place? This letter may pose a challenge to you. You’ll have to interpret each of these references and guess at the meaning using whatever instinct the Q may possess.

You’re right, I am a romantic. And it’s becoming increasingly clear that so, in fact, are you.

Regards,

Jean-Luc

Chapter Text

Jean-Luc,

I was impressed by your last letter, you were correct that it was more challenging than your previous one. Still, I think I did a good job translating it, although there’s a few metaphors I hope I’m not wrong about.

I know I’m evading your questions. But how’s this: it’s been a long time since I’ve been in my human form, so what do you say we take it out for a spin, for old time’s sake?

Don’t worry, that isn’t a threat. I’m done with toying with the Enterprise (for the moment). But it might be easier to discuss these questions you have for me in person.

So, what do you say? You and me, out on the proverbial town, doing whatever it is humans do when they reunite after a long time apart. Just give me a date and time and I’ll be there.

-Q

This letter arrived with no fanfare, it simply appeared on Captain Picard's desk moments after the previous letter disappeared. Q was correct, Jean-Luc’s knee-jerk reaction was to perceive the note as a threat. Would Q return for yet another test of humanity? But as his initial reaction subsided, he found that he was almost looking forward to the idea of seeing Q again. Even though their interactions were dangerous, Jean-Luc enjoyed contemplating the implications the existence of such a being had on the universe. Surprisingly, a part of him actually liked Q. As he had stated so many years before, to learn about him was, frankly, provocative, and that had only become more true as the years went on. Picard joined Starfleet in part for adventure, and no one in the universe was more suited to adventure than Q.

He also needed answers. Q's interest in him made no sense -- why would a self-proclaimed omnipotent entity be so invested in a single human's life?

Dear Q,

Stardate 52731. My shift ends at 1900 hours.

Regards,

Jean-Luc

He set his response in the same place on the desk where the previous letter appeared. The moment his hand stopped touching the paper, it disappeared.

Chapter Text

The moment Captain Picard stepped off the bridge after his shift was over at 1900 hours, he was transported to an unfamiliar setting on an equally unfamiliar planet. It was either sunrise or sunset, the sun had just crossed below the horizon and the sky was streaked with soft oranges, pinks, and purples. He seemed to be on the top of a flat, onyx rock that jutted up above a sea of lilac colored mist. As he looked out, he could see other rocks, ranging in color from light sandstone to dark black, peeking up above the fog. This landscape stretched out as far as he could see, until the lilac of the mist blurred with the electric orange of the horizon. The air smelled vaguely salty, like the sea. As he inhaled deeply, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Q stated, appearing behind Jean-Luc.

“Q.” said Picard as he turned around and set eyes on the familiar form, dressed in the usual command red Starfleet uniform.

“If you’re wondering about your little friends on your ship, don’t bother. They won’t even notice you’re gone; I’ll return you back to the exact moment you left. You won’t even be an anomalous blip on the sensors.”

“Thank you.” He paused, taking a step toward the other man. “So, letter-writing? I see you’ve picked up a new hobby.” Q smirked in response, eyes staring into Picard’s with his usual mischievous intensity.

“I wouldn’t call it that. But if you must, I suppose it’s more accurate to say that it’s simply a…” Q trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the air, “… a new expression of a very old hobby.”

“Where is it that you’ve brought me, Q?”

Q rolled his eyes, expecting a question like this.

“It doesn’t particularly matter, as this planet ceased to exist about one billion years ago, after its central star expanded into a red giant. It was located in what you call the Gamma Quadrant.”

Picard knew there was no point trying to protest against the time travel, and as he took in the dramatic landscape a very small part of him was glad he was able to witness such a striking planet.

“I see. And what exactly are we doing on this planet?” Picard finally replied.

Q shook his head, as if disappointed. “We’re here because I thought you might like it. The scenery conforms to your human aesthetic ideals quite nicely.” He paused, eyes sparkling impishly. “As for what we’re doing here, that is entirely up to you. As long as you’re with me, anything you want, anything at all in the entire universe is at your disposal!”

Picard chuckled, then paced and looked around. “I don’t know about the entire universe. But there are some things I’d like to talk about, and this…” Jean-Luc looked around, gesturing to the scene around him “…this is a more than adequate place for discussion. Although I’m not particularly comfortable with time travel, this planet is breathtaking. Simply coming to the ship would have been sufficient.”

“Oh, but that’s so boring! I always do that! It was time for a change of scenery. Now come, walk with me, and we can discuss whatever it is you wish.”

The two men ambled down a path that led to the bottom of the boulder they were on, and as they wandered into the mist it parted for them with a little help from Q. Picard learned that the planet didn’t rotate on its axis, so this particular meridian was eternally in a state of twilight. The fog flowed past them and around them, shifting colors and shapes in the wind.

They discussed the letters, each expressing their amusement at the challenge of decoding them, but they both hovered away from discussing what weighed most on their minds.

Eventually, they settled on the top of a different boulder closer to the night side of the planet. The moment Picard suggested they find somewhere to sit, Q snapped his fingers and they appeared on top of a smooth ivory colored stone that looked as though it had once been a great mountain, but eons of erosion had whittled it down so that it now resembled a giant river rock. They sat on its edge, staring up into the purple sky peppered with stars.
Picard looked away from the sky to Q, who was already looking at the Captain.

“Do you like what you see?” Q asked. Picard felt the tug of a smile at his lips, but turned away from Q to look back at the sky.

“It’s magnificent” Picard whispered in reply. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he asked the question that had been on his mind since he received the first letter. “Q, why are you so intent on keeping me alive? You’ve never answered the question, not directly. I was surprised when my plan to get your attention to deliver my first letter actually worked. Why would the immediate possibility of my death get your attention like that?"

Q was silent for a little while. He knew Jean-Luc would ask him this tonight, and he had even prepared to explain everything, had planned each and every word. But now, he was seized with a terror unbecoming for a Q. For so long he disguised his feelings for the Captain with antagonistic jokes, and now the idea of suddenly admitting the truth seemed impossible.

“I can’t tell you that.” He finally responded, after a prolonged silence.

Jean-Luc didn’t respond for a long time, just sat still and stared into the sky. He wondered at Q’s avoidance, thought about what the silence could imply. Although the inevitable conclusion was right in front of him, he scoured his memories for any evidence to nullify the conclusion that was in his mind.

“What can you tell me, Q?” Jean-Luc finally said.

Q turned to him, and for an instant the entity’s eyes wore a look of pure distress Jean-Luc had never seen him wear before. It vanished quickly, replaced with a strained, almost bittersweet grin.

“What do you say to one more puzzle? One more letter, one where I explain everything.”

Picard stared back, trying to determine Q’s intention. Finally, he responded. “Alright, Q.”

An instant later, he was back in the turbo lift, on the way to his quarters after his shift. “Computer, what is the time?” He asked, although he knew what the response would be.

“The time is 1900 hours, Stardate 52731,” the computer chirped back.

He walked back to his quarters, quietly contemplating Q’s motives. He couldn’t decide if he was apprehensive or excited about the forthcoming letter.

Chapter Text

In an otherwise uninhabited region of space, Q existed as a plasma storm. His thoughts were the flares that crackled and webbed through the electric-orange cloud of plasma.

How can I tell him how I feel?

The words echoed throughout his consciousness, the energy of the storm building up and erupting into plasma bursts in turn. More flares streaked like lightning across the cloud until, finally, Q settled on the words he would say. Gradually, as Q reached the end of his letter, the storm came to a shuddering halt, slowly evaporating until it was as if it had never been there in the first place.

Jean-Luc,

You asked me to explain, so here I am. As I write this, I can’t decide if I want to simply leave you the letter in plain text so that nothing can be misconstrued, or if I want to make it almost impossible to decipher to avoid telling you the truth.

My feelings toward you are difficult to explain. The Q are not a social race, at least not in the same way as you humans. We have the universe at our fingertips, no biological need for companionship, and so most of us are content to exist alone. I suppose I’ve always been different in that sense; I’ve always sought out the company of other Q, other species.

When I met you at Farpoint I was intrigued, and so I returned. And I keep returning. I return because of you, Jean-Luc, because you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, because you are the only person in this universe who can surprise me, and because you are the first person who makes me feel truly content.

Hate me, laugh at me if you must. If, after reading my next words, you wish to never see me again, I’ll grant that wish and will never again appear beside you.

I love you, mon Capitaine. That is the answer, as it has always been.

-Q

In the end, the letter simply appeared, in plain text, on the desk in Captain Picard’s ready room as he sat down the next morning.

.....

Jean-Luc felt a warm blush creeping into his cheeks as he read and reread Q’s confession. He had always wondered why the entity was always showing up on his ship, and it was suddenly so obvious how the entity’s previously confounding actions could easily be explained as flirtations.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed, gripping the letter and squinting, pensive. The door to his ready room chimed.

“Come” he said, not looking up.

“Captain, I… Is that another letter from Q?” asked Counselor Troi. Picard’s blush deepened.

“Yes,” he replied curtly.

She smiled to herself, no doubt feeling the Captain’s sudden embarrassment.

“Has he said anything interesting?”

The Captain straightened in his chair, avoiding eye contact with Deanna.

“No,” he finally replied, but they both knew that he was lying.

“Has he threatened the ship?” She continued.

The Captain sighed. “No.” He stood up, and walked to the window to stare out at the stars. “He says… he says that he’s in love with me. In love with me, Deanna.”

She smiled, finally understanding the emotions she sensed from Picard. “Do you believe him?” She asked.

“I don’t know what to believe,” he said, turning around to face Deanna. “I must admit that it makes sense. Out of all the explanations to describe his behavior toward this ship, toward me, it makes sense. But at the same time, I don’t see how it can be true. He’s a…” he gestured vaguely, wondering how to describe Q, “… and I’m a human. Hasn’t he always considered us a lower form of life?”

Deanna considered the Captain’s words for a moment before responding.

“Let’s assume Q is telling the truth. He is in love with you. How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know,” the Captain whispered, sitting down on the ready-room couch.

Deanna pushed: “Do you return Q’s feelings?” Jean-Luc’s eyes snapped to Deanna’s.

“Am I in love with Q? What kind of a question is that? Of course I'm—"

“Captain, if I may," Deanna interrupted, "I think that you need to take the time to honestly examine your feelings toward Q. Right now, your emotions are extremely muddled. It’s important that you take some time to work through them and figure out how you honestly feel about Q.”

Captain Picard simply stared back at her in a stunned silence. “And…. Now I’m not saying that I do, but what if… what if I do have… feelings for Q? What do I do then?”

Deanna smiled. “The first step is figuring out how you feel. After that, you can think about how you want to proceed.” She stood and headed for the door.

“Thank you, Counselor,” Picard said.

Before the doors opened, she turned and added, "But if you find that you do have romantic feelings for Q, don't be afraid to explore them."

Picard simply stared as the doors shut behind the Counselor.

.....

That night, Picard laid in his bed, restless. After half an hour of tossing and turning, he got up and called for lights and an Earl Grey tea. He sat down at his desk and began writing.

Dear Q,

I am stunned.

I admit that I had always wondered at your fascination with me, and your confession certainly explains your behavior over the years.

Right now, I am still unable to discern how I feel about you. But I do know that I don’t hate you. In fact, without the looming threat of the destruction of humanity that so often accompanies your visits, I may even enjoy your company. Despite our past, I find you compelling.

He sat and stared at the paper for a long time, thinking about how to end the letter. His mind wandered to their most recent encounter, on the long-gone planet in the Gamma quadrant. He thought of their discussions as they sat on the boulder looking into the night sky, of Q’s eyes and how they seemingly stared into the deepest core of his being. After taking a swig of tea, he added:

If you are so inclined, I wouldn’t be opposed to getting to know each other better in some less-formal setting.

Regards,

Jean-Luc

He set the pen down on the desk, feeling calm for the first time since he got Q’s letter. The weariness in his body caught up with him, and he returned to bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

As his eyes closed shut, the paper on his desk disappeared.

Chapter Text

It had been almost a week since Picard received Q’s last letter, and he began to worry that the confession had all been an elaborate joke on Q’s part. Picard lamented that he had no way of contacting Q that didn’t involve endangering himself. What was Q thinking? Was he upset that the Captain hadn’t returned the sentiment? Was he laughing at him?

These thoughts weighed on the Captain’s mind as he walked back to his quarters after yet another routine day. When the doors to his quarters swooshed open, he was greeted with a completely unfamiliar sight: crimson rose petals littered the ground, and the standard electric lights were replaced by dozens of candles that appeared to be floating, suspended in the air. As he stepped past the threshold, the cloying scent of the roses made him cough.

On his table, propped against a massive bouquet of roses in an ostentatious vase, sat a very ornate letter.

Mon Capitaine,

When did you become such a romantic? You find me compelling? You want to get to know me? I blush at your sordid confessions.

Our first little excursion will be tomorrow, if you’re game. I’ve planned a little something I really think you’ll enjoy.

All my love,

Q

P.S. Since you care about this sort of thing, I promise to ensure that the ship (and humanity) won’t be destroyed while you’re out.

Picard chuckled to himself as he read the letter, wondering what Q had in store.

Dear Q,

I'm sincerely looking forward to it. I'm free after 16:00 hours.

Regards,

Jean-Luc

During his shift the next day, Riker noticed that the Captain seemed to be in a much better mood than he’d been in all week, making lighthearted, offhand remarks to his Number One, and grinning like a drunken idiot. Riker smirked back, recalling the last time he had behaved this way, completely convinced that the Captain had a new romantic interest in his life.

At 16:00 hours, Jean-Luc stepped off the bridge onto the transporter, expecting to be instantly transported to wherever it was Q planned on taking him. When the transporter doors shut behind him and nothing happened, a part of him was disappointed.

“Deck 8” he told the computer.

He entered his quarters, once again expecting to be immediately whisked away to some unknown place. But instead, he stepped through the door as usual.

After a half hour that Picard spent cycling between pacing around his quarters and listlessly re-reading a random book off his bookshelf, the door to his quarters chimed.

“Come.” He said, mildly annoyed at whoever it was that was bothering him.

“Mon Capitaine!” Q said as he strode through the door. “Are you ready for our date?” He drawled out the word, smirking at the Captain.

“Q!” Jean-Luc exclaimed, standing up and dropping the book onto the nightstand. “I didn’t expect you to come to the door.”

“I…” Q started, looking down at his boots. “Well, I thought constantly whisking you away without any warning might be a bit disorienting for you, so I decided to give you a bit of a heads up.” Q looked up, sheepishly meeting Picard’s eyes. Jean-Luc hesitantly smiled back at Q.

“That’s… that’s very considerate of you, Q. Thank you.” He paused, and noticed that Q was grinning back at the Captain. It wasn’t his usual mischievous smirk, but a genuine smile filled with joy and relief. “So, um… what do you have in store for the evening?”

“You’ll see soon enough. Are you ready to go?” Q asked, offering one of his hands to Jean-Luc while raising the other in preparation to snap his fingers.

Jean-Luc took his hand.

“Ready.”

Q squeezed Jean-Luc’s hand, then snapped his fingers. They instantly appeared in a lush green meadow enclosed by a forest. Picard’s attention immediately focused on the building immediately in front of them.

“A stable!” Jean-Luc gasped in surprise. Q kept his eyes locked on Jean-Luc, cataloguing and scrutinizing the implication of every micro-expression that flitted across his face as he realized what the date would entail. “Does this mean we’ll be horseback riding?” Jean-Luc asked, in a voice giddier than the entity had ever thought possible.

“Yes, mon Capitaine.” Q replied, eyes still trained on Jean-Luc. He lead him to the stable, and after they each chose their horse, Q snapped his fingers and they were outside of the stable again, each horse tacked up and ready to ride. Additionally, Q was suddenly dressed in a long black riding tailcoat with white riding pants and sleek black boots. Underneath the jacket, he wore a deep crimson collared shirt. As he pulled matching crimson leather riding gloves onto his hands and adjusted the straps, Picard stared, dazed, and noticed his throat becoming increasingly dry.

“Would you like an outfit, Jean-Luc? I could pick something out for you, or I could procure your usual ensemble from your quarters.”

Picard cleared his throat. “The usual will be fine,” he said hoarsely, and an instant later he was clad in his classic beige riding attire. Picard then mounted his dapple gray horse, while Q simply snapped his fingers and appeared on top of his jet-black steed.

The two began their ride through the forest, side by side, and they fell into easy conversation. Q asked Picard about how he first got into horseback riding, and Picard animatedly told the story of his first riding lesson, blushing as he recollected being thrown from the horse after attempting to jump before he learned the proper technique. Q laughed uproariously in response.

After an hour or so of meandering through the forest, they reached another clearing. Q interrupted Jean-Luc in the middle of his sentence, saying “I’ll race you to the other side!” And took off. Jean-Luc chuckled, then raced after him.

Just as Jean-Luc began to overtake him, Q suddenly flew off his horse and slammed against the ground. In one fluid motion, Jean-Luc slowed his horse to a halt, dismounted, then ran over to where Q was lying, motionless, on the ground. “Q!” Jean-Luc called, somewhat perplexed. “Are you… hurt?” He asked as he approached Q, taking in the improbably sight of Q sprawled dramatically on the ground, eyes closed, one arm above his head. He leaned over Q to try to asses his condition, and as he checked for a pulse at his neck, Q opened his eyes.

“You know I can’t be hurt, Jean-Luc,” he said, winking and grinning wickedly. “But I’m gratified to know my plan to get you off that horse worked.” Q gently touched the side of Jean-Luc’s face.

Picard sighed, visibly exasperated but also amused, and for a moment the two men just stared into the other’s eyes, neither one daring to move. Finally, Jean-Luc lowered himself onto the grass beside Q. Slowly, he reached out and wrapped his own hand around Q’s.

“You could have simply asked, you know. I would have been happy to oblige,” Jean-Luc said in a low voice. Q stared speechless back at Picard for a few moments.

“But that’s not as fun,” he finally whispered in response. After a few moments of contented silence, he continued: “I take it you enjoyed the evening?”

Picard smiled back and nodded. “Yes, Q. Very much so.”

“So would you want to do it again sometime?”

Without hesitation, Picard said “yes.”

Eventually they got up and walked around some more, hands intertwined. When it was time for Picard to return to the Enterprise, Q snapped his fingers and Jean-Luc found himself back in his quarters, alone.

“Thank you, Q” he whispered aloud.

“Goodnight, mon Capitaine” Q’s voice whispered back in a voice that seemed to exist only in the Captain’s mind.

Chapter Text

Picard carefully avoided eye contact with Counselor Troi during the staff meeting the next morning, doing his best to pay attention to the holodeck, transporter, and replicator updates Commander LaForge was briefing him on. He still hadn’t told anyone about his date with Q, and he debated whether or not he would bring it up during the meeting. He knew that the general procedure was to alert Starfleet immediately regarding any incident involving Q, but as the person who wrote those guidelines, he knew that they were meant to ensure the safety of the ship and the Federation. Since he was certain that Q had no harmful intentions, he decided that his personal life was no one’s business but his own.

Near the end of the meeting, Riker asked if there were any new Q developments. Picard curtly replied that there was nothing to report and quickly ended the meeting.

I’ll tell them when it becomes necessary, he mentally promised himself.

Deanna tried and failed to catch the Captain’s eye as he bolted out of the meeting, while the rest of his staff looked on questioningly.

As he walked back to his quarters on deck 8, he noticed a bright red, mid-twentieth century phone booth in the middle of the corridor. He looked around to see if anyone else was seeing it, but the deck seemed to be deserted. The phone began to ring, and after a few rings he stepped hesitantly inside.

“Hello?”

“So good to hear your voice, Jean-Luc,” Q drawled through the phone. “Got any plans for tomorrow evening?” Picard tried to suppress the grin that was fighting to spread across his face.

“We can meet at 17:00 hours,” he answered.

“I think I'll be free then,” Q responded cheekily. “What do you propose we do?”

“I suppose dinner is a customary date, at least it is for humans,” Jean-Luc replied. Q scoffed.

“I don’t need to eat, Jean-Luc. Besides, that’s a little uncreative.” At this, Picard’s thoughts wandered to the daunting task of constructing an engaging date for someone who could manipulate time and space at will.

“Time and space…” he murmured to himself.

“What was that, dear Captain?” Q responded.

“You can manipulate time and space.” Picard stated, a plan forming in his head. “Would it be possible for us to view past events, like time traveling, but without contaminating the timeline?” Q laughed.

“You insult me, Jean-Luc! Of course I can do something as basic as that. What do you have in mind?”

Picard grinned against the receiver.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow at 17:00 hours. It will be a surprise, of sorts.”

“I rather like this side of you, Jean-Luc,” Q chuckled. “Until then, mon ami.”

Jean-Luc heard a “click” through the receiver, then hung up the phone. As he stepped out of the booth, it vanished, and crew members returned to the corridor as if nothing had happened.

Jean-Luc was making the final preparations for the date in his quarters. Earlier in the day, he researched the proper attire for the time and place he planned on going for the evening, and replicated a suitable outfit. When he finished dressing, he examined his reflection in the mirror, making the final adjustments until he was satisfied.

“Computer, what is the time?” He asked.

“The time is 16:57 hours” the computer chimed back. Picard paced around his quarters, impatient. When the door chimed, he couldn’t help the rare, teeth-baring smile that spread across his face.

“Come!”

Q stepped through the door, dressed in black, high-waisted, loose-legged slacks and a burgundy turtleneck that clung to his skin. “Good evening, Jean-Luc” he said, staring intensely into Picard’s eyes. For a moment, Jean-Luc was unable to speak, and just stared back into Q’s eyes, reveling in the seeming electricity that charged the air.

“As much as I enjoy your ensemble, I do think you’ll need to change.” Jean-Luc eventually said.

“Oh?” Q responded coyly.

“Yes. We are going to London, England. The year 1599. You’ll need something to blend in.”

“Curious!” Q exclaimed. “Whatever are we going to do?”

Picard smirked back, with a mischievous expression that nearly sent Q over the edge. “You’ll just have to wait and see. Can you take us there?”

“I can take you anywhere you’d like to go,” Q responded with a wink. “However, I will need you to be a bit more specific. Can you give me a day? A time?”

Picard grimaced. He’d spent hours searching for the specific date he needed, but the records from that era were so spotty it was impossible to pinpoint the exact day. “If I told you what I had in mind now, could you act surprised when we got there?”

Q crossed the room and took Picard’s hand into his own. “Not a chance, mon Capitaine,” he laughed. “But you can get my full reaction now, I promise.”

Picard sighed, chuckling in response. “Fine, then. Can you take us to the opening night of As You Like It at the Globe theater?”

“A play? A Shakespeare play? Jean-Luc, I appreciate the idea, but I really think that’s more for you than it is for me,” he chided.

“I admit that I am curious about seeing a Shakespeare play directed by Shakespeare himself.” Jean-Luc explained.

“However, I chose the play specifically because I think it’s one you would enjoy.” Jean-Luc smiled softly, staring into Q’s eyes.

Q rewound time to watch the moments in Jean-Luc’s life he purposefully ignored over the past few days in order to preserve the surprise. Peering back, he saw Jean-Luc as he re-read the plays in his Shakespeare collection, as he compiling and narrowing a list of titles he thought the other man would most enjoy. He watched as his Captain pored over the database in what little spare time he had, sifting through the historical records of the late 15th-century until he was well-versed on the customs and attire. Q was used to organic beings venerating him as though he were a god, but never before had anyone, Q or otherwise, expended so much effort for him as a life form, as a being.

Back in the present, he smiled at Jean-Luc. “Well then, what are we waiting for?” He said, squeezing Jean-Luc’s hand.

He snapped his fingers and they appeared in 1599 London. Q changed his clothes to match the middle-class attire of Jean-Luc’s, and they meandered down the street toward the Globe. Jean-Luc tried to act casual, but was unable to help his awe-struck gaze as he soaked in the ancient streets and structures.

“Lead the way, Mon Capitaine,” Q murmured in the Captain’s ear.

They meandered down the street until they reached the Globe. Picard quickly explained the the class system and prices to his companion before placing a total of 4 pennies into the box. They found their seats on a bench in the lower gallery, and waited until the play was performed.

Q was enthralled, and Picard was pleased they were able to travel back in time to see the play. He couldn’t imagine Q sitting quietly and politely clapping on any occasion, so the 15th century tradition of a lively, boisterous crowd suited him perfectly. Although he wasn’t very expressive, he thoroughly enjoyed watching Q as he jeered at the hateful Oliver as he plotted against Orlando and hollered salaciously at Orlando and Ganymede.

At the end of the performance, as the audience cheered and the crowds shuffled toward the exit, Q looked at the Captain and said, “Thank you, Jean-Luc. I thoroughly enjoyed that! I always thought plays were such stuffy things, but clearly these primitive Londonites had the right idea.”

Jean-Luc chuckled and said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Q.”

“So what’s next?” Q asked with a smirk. Jean-Luc paused, as he hadn’t really planned on anything besides the play. However, looking at Q, he decided he wasn’t ready for the evening to end just yet.

“I hadn’t planned on anything, but I suppose the traditional thing to do after a play is to get dinner. However, I know you don’t have to eat, so we could go for a walk, or—” Picard stammered.

“Don’t you fret, Jean-Luc, I know just the thing” Q said, then snapped his fingers.

They appeared in what seemed to be a void. Jean-Luc could see nothing aside from himself and Q, and he looked questioningly at the entity.

“We’re inside a black hole, Jean-Luc,” Q explained. As Picard began to blanch, he quickly added, “Don't worry, it’s perfectly safe. And look,” he gestured upwards, “the view is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

Picard looked up to see a spiral of light dancing in a circle above them, endlessly twisting and turning in a swirl of colors. He also noticed a sort of ethereal music that matched the swirling lights above, with sounds reminiscent of the chiming of partially full wine glasses when the rim is rubbed.

He looked back to see Q holding out a hand.

“Care to dance, mon Capitaine?”

Silently, Jean-Luc took the other man’s hand, and was pulled into Q’s arms. Their bodies moved in perfect time with the music, and they twirled and swayed beneath the twisting starlight. As they found their rhythm, they eased closer and closer to each other, Q’s hand pressing on the small of Picard’s back and Jean-Luc’s fingers clutching the nape of Q’s neck. They danced without a single word, and as the music ebbed into silence, they found themselves staring into each other’s eyes, faces mere centimeters apart.

Jean-Luc didn’t hesitate. He pushed his hand up into the thick of Q’s brown hair and gently pulled his face toward his own, and Q hungrily reciprocated.

Their kiss was a blissful eternity. It was a release to finally express what they had kept hidden for so long. As their bodies intertwined and their lips lingered on each other, Q’s focus slipped, and the pair melted into great, spiraling galaxies, merging and filled with billions of stars. Some exploded as supernovae, others collapsed into black holes, and Picard was acutely aware of every single atom as he and Q collided.

Eventually, Q returned them to their corporeal forms, murmuring a soft “sorry” into Jean-Luc’s ear, who just moaned in response.

When they pulled apart, they found themselves returned to Picard’s quarters.

“That was some kiss,” Picard said.

“That was some date,” Q replied, then pulled Picard in for the second of many kisses the two would share that night.

Chapter Text

The universe was larger now, its galaxies and planets inhabited by a completely different cast of civilizations.

Q remained, and so did Picard. Even now, he was surprised at how easy it was to convince Picard to stay with him. It was one of his favorite memories, that moment when he realized he and Picard would never have to part.

Q knew how humans aged, and had adjusted his own appearance to match Picard’s. But while Q’s white hair and crow’s feet were merely an aesthetic choice, Picard’s senescence was not. Q noticed every new wrinkle, every millimeter in height Picard lost, and each change was a sharp, stabbing reminder of Picard’s mortality. Occasionally, Picard’s health would falter; an organ would cease functioning, a bone would weaken to the point of breakage, and Q would quietly intervene. Although they never discussed it, he knew Picard suspected — one too many doctor’s appointments with nothing wrong with his health besides old age alerted him — but he knew that he couldn’t prevent Jean-Luc from dying without his explicit permission.

First, Q went to the continuum. He expected a fight, prepared an overly-dramatic speech to beg them for permission, but the Continuum anticipated and agreed before he even formally asked.

Talking to Jean-Luc was infinitely more difficult. It was afternoon in Chateau Picard, and Q materialized next to Jean-Luc as he stood on the patio, gazing into the sun as it set over the vineyard.

“Hello, Q” Picard said warmly, reaching for the his hand.

“Mon Capitaine, I have something I need to ask you,” burst Q, before the doubts could fester in his mind and prevent him from asking. Jean-Luc looked at him, and smiled.

“I have a feeling I know what this is about. Why don’t we sit down?”

The two sat, and Q let all of his fears spill out of him. At the end of his speech, a tear rolled down his cheek. “I just… I know it’s selfish of me, but I just don’t know how to exist in a universe without you. You’re getting old, Jean-Luc, and it terrifies me. The thought of you only existing in the past is unbearable. I’ll respect your decision no matter your choice, but I have to ask you, just so that I know that I did everything I could. Would you… Could you consider the possibility of becoming a Q?”

The question hung in the air, Picard silently considering the offer. Q felt the futures shift until Picard’s mind eventually decided on a response.

“Yes, Q. I would be honored and delighted to spend eternity with you.”

Q sat, stunned. Even though he knew what the response would be moments before Picard uttered it, he felt the weight of a thousand universes lift. He wouldn’t have to lose Picard. Not in this universe.

“Really? Are you absolutely certain?” Q asked again.

“Q, I know my life is coming to an end. And I’ve always accepted that death is an inevitable fact of life, at least for a human — I still do. But I also love you, Q. I love the adventures we go on, I love the opportunities you have given me throughout the years to travel through time and explore the universe in a totally unique way. If it all ended tomorrow, I would be satisfied with a life well-lived, a life far better than I would have ever dreamed possible. But, selfishly, I don’t want our adventures to ever have to end. I’m not sure if there is an afterlife, but spending eternity with you in any form would be heaven.”

And so, when Picard passed, Q carried his shattered remnants to the Continuum where they reformed him into a Q. Jean-Luc regained consciousness, and the first thing he was aware of was Q. For the first time, he fully comprehended Q, fully comprehended everything, and felt a love so powerful it sent shockwaves that would have destroyed the entire spacetime continuum had the other Q not intervened.

They were happy. They had an entire universe to explore, and an eternity to do it.