Terminal Q-riosity

Redheads, scientists, and cats, they all suffer from terminal curiosity.
   - paraphrased, original from A Cherished Alienation (from Talking Stick/Circle) by Macedon

When Kathryn Janeway hit bottom, it was to the sensation of her flesh tearing.

Excruciating pain ripped through her the likes of which she'd never suffered before. It instantly became the focal point of her existence, the be all and end all of herself. Everything hurt beyond measure. She could no longer tell where the pain ended and she began. She didn't think it mattered.

Air became the enemy when the pain redoubled with every shallow breath she took. The sunlight stung her eyes yet she didn't dare close them. Mustn't pass out, she thought. Must stay awake. Must assess the damage.

With a Herculean effort Kathryn raised her head, fighting a wave of nausea as more pain viciously sliced through her, and gaped in incomprehension at the stump jutting from her midsection. She blinked, twice, as if to clear her eyes. This couldn't be.

The hole in her midsection spoke a different language. With each movement, fresh blood bubbled forth. In a daze, she stared at the red rivulets running down her sides and dripping onto the foliage, creating random patterns. Time slowed to a crawl.

So this was how she was going to die, at the bottom of a ravine on a godforsaken planet in the Delta Quadrant? Somehow she'd had a different end in mind, but apparently she'd cheated death one too many times and now its icy fingers were reaching for her. Had to happen sometime.

Dimly, Kathryn became aware that a faint chill was seeping into her bones, dulling the pain. It spread, slowly at first, but soon encompassed her entire body. Some small part of her mind screamed at her to do something, to fight the chill, but mostly she didn't recall why she should. She'd take the cold over the unbearable pain any day.

In the distance she heard familiar voices, laced with fear, issuing frantic orders. She wanted to tell them not to worry, tell them the pain was ebbing, but her mouth was no longer taking input from her brain, nor were her eyes apparently, her vision dimming.

Then everything went black.

The white was blinding.

Kathryn blinked in confusion, unsure as to where she was. There was no discernible ceiling, no floor or walls that she could see. Only the endless white light with no apparent source, unrelenting in its intensity. All-consuming. Peaceful even.

She had a bad feeling about this.

"My, my, how the mighty have fallen. Literally."

She ran the gamut of emotion at hearing this voice, but surprise really wasn't one of them. The Delta Quadrant had long since cured her of that particular sensation. Turning toward her least favorite letter of the universe, she nearly missed him in the light, what with his flowing white robes and high glamour.

Her smile was saccharine. "Hello, Q. Go away."

He pouted. "You don't mean that, Kathy."

"I do, in fact, but you're not going to accommodate me, are you?"

"Aren't we the clever one. How did you guess?"

"Years of experience," Kathryn said readily, and sighed. She gestured around herself. "What is this place, Q?"

"This, my dear Madame Captain, is the afterlife." He beamed at her. "And you get to spend it with me. Isn't that just wonderful?"

"'Wonderful' isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe it. Hell comes to mind, though."

Q clutched at his heart. "Oh, I'm wounded. Horrible woman. I don't quite know why I bother with you."

"Neither do I. So do us both a favor and send me back to Voyager."

He clucked his tongue. "Ah, see, it's not as easy as that. You're dead, Kathy."

She gave him her best skunk-eye. "I'm not dead."

Q raised a brow. "Your minuscule brain isn't nearly evolved enough to change the facts of life, or in your case death, with sheer will alone. Besides," he said, gesturing towards the ground, "you're bleeding all over the place."

Kathryn looked down at herself, and true enough, there was a gaping hole where her stomach used to be. Memory came rushing back to her at the sight. She felt herself falling again, recalled the sensation of weightlessness for a split second before the floor rushed up to meet her. Relived the pain, the sheer agony of the last few minutes of her life. Her head shot up and she looked at him in faint disbelief.

"So you see, you're quite, quite dead." Q frowned at her midsection. "But that hole is really rather unbecoming." With a snap of his fingers, it was gone. "There, much better, wouldn't you agree?"

It took her a full second to recover. "If I'm truly dead, what am I doing here?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And with you."

"I told you. This is the afterlife." A slow, self-affected smile spread across his face. "And I'm God."

She barked a short laugh. "You're not God."

"You Starfleet captains are a blasphemous bunch, aren't you," Q said, faintly insulted. "Jean-Luc didn't believe me, either. Well then, think of me as the Ghost of Christmas Past."

Kathryn snorted. "That's an insult to Dickens."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. Remember our late friend, Quinn? Guess where Dickens' inspiration came from?" He waved that revelation away. "Enough about that, though. Let's go take a look at your so-called life, shall we, Kathy?"

Before she could even think of an adequate response, her life – or afterlife, as the case might be – turned upside down. Again. One moment she was encompassed in pristine white light, the next she was sitting in the back row of an old movie theater that could have been taken right out of one of Tom Paris's holodeck programs, and probably had been.

An arm shot up from the left, nearly smacking her in the nose with the paper bag it was holding. "Popcorn?" Q offered.

She merely rolled her eyes at him.

He popped a few kernels into his mouth. "Suit yourself. Movie's about to begin anyway."

As soon as he'd spoken, strangely discordant sound boomed from hidden speakers, making her jump. Then the lights dimmed and her attention snapped towards the screen. "Captain Chaos: The Adventures of Kathryn Janeway and Her Maquis Lapdog," she read aloud, incredulous. "That's cheesy, even for you, Q."

Q shrugged. "Story of your life, Kathy. Don't blame me."

"Then why are we fast-forwarding?"

"Early years," he said readily. "No lapdog."

"Seems to me your editing skills leave something to be desired."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, popping more kernels into his mouth. "You did kill yourself unexpectedly. Ah, here we are."

As the movie slowed to real time, Kathryn saw herself lying on a biobed in Sickbay with Chakotay at her side. Judging by her hairstyle they were well into their journey home, probably in their third or fourth year. She racked her brain, but found she had no recollection of the events unfolding on the screen. But then, she appeared to be unconscious. Curiously, Chakotay appeared to be uncomfortable in his own skin. The moment he informed her former self that he intended to disobey orders, she suddenly knew exactly when this had occurred.

Q interrupted her train of thought. "It's really quite pathetic. This basically marks the last time Chuckles showed some spunk around you, but even then you had him trained well. Look at that, he needs you to be comatose to do what he thinks is right. Makes you wonder how he ever managed to survive in that badly organized and ultimately insignificant terrorist cell… what did they call themselves? The weasels?"

"Maquis," she provided, only catching the last few sentences. Tearing her gaze away from the screen was harder than it should have been. Her eyes were riveted by the struggle that played out on Chakotay's face as he told her he hoped she'd understand.

"Whatever." Q turned around in his chair to fully face her, dangling a leg over the armrest. "Really, Kathy. An alliance with the Borg? Are you mad?"

She raised one eyebrow. "I'm still alive, aren't I."

Q gave her a droll look. "Not at this point, you're not."

"So you keep telling me."

Kathryn wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't one of Q's elaborate games, but she couldn't take the chance that she might be wrong. What if she truly was dead? Spending eternity with Q took endurance to a whole new level, one she wasn't quite prepared to experience firsthand yet. Or ever, for that matter.

She focused her attention back on the screen, noticing how the movie had jumped ahead a couple of months. If this was the best Q could do in terms of editing, she feared the movie wouldn't win any popularity prize. Not that she cared. Much. It was only depicting her life, after all.

She watched herself taking control of the helm, then alter Voyager's course to head straight for the binary pulsars they were investigating, and into their gravitational field. Snorting, she noticed how the accompanying music built up to a resounding crescendo the closer her ship got to the point of no return. "Nice touch with the music, Q. Its beat probably matches the raging headache I had from being tampered with at the time."

"Fascinating, wasn't it? I used that opportunity to teach Q junior about causality."

"'Fascinating' isn't the w--" She blinked. "You were THERE?"

"Why, of course. You're the godmother of my son. I'd be negligent if I didn't at least keep an eye on you." He leaned in close, his gaze boring into hers. "And you do so enjoy going out of your way to attract trouble. Good thing your pet Maquis had already been in Sickbay. You did nearly give him a heart attack with that maneuver."

Kathryn was torn between the need to laugh and the need to cry. "I did no such thing."

"Au contraire, Madame Captain. You do it constantly, but Chuckles lacks the gumption to confront you about it." At the snap of his fingers, a data PADD appeared in his hand. Q began to read. "First Officer's personal log, supplemental. Captain Chaos has struck again and shaved another five years off my life expectancy. At the rate she's going, I'll suffer a heart attack before we get within 50,000 light years of the Alpha Quadrant."

Kathryn made a grab for the PADD, but Q held it out of reach. "Uh uh, Kathy, I'm not done yet." He disappeared in a flash when she wouldn't let up, and reappeared in the seat in front of her. He cleared his throat, assuming an air of scholarly superiority. "It is my personal belief that Captain Janeway is an unstoppable force of nature. If we live long enough to reach home, I'm quite sure the brass won't know what hit them until they find themselves bleeding on the floor, or dead." He stopped and the PADD disappeared in a flash. "There's more where this came from, but we've got a movie to watch."

Momentarily speechless and more than a little stunned, Kathryn wondered how many more log entries like that existed, and how far back they went. Though she had a feeling they might have started within hours into their journey home. She made a mental note to ask Chakotay—

Well, hell. She wasn't going to be doing that anytime soon, was she.

That thought hurt a lot more than she expected it to.

Rattled but unwilling to further examine her feelings, she made an effort to focus back on the movie. The scene on the screen was wholly unfamiliar, though, and she was positive she'd remember her ship looking like it'd been through hell and back. "This never happened."

"On the contrary, this was quite real. Alternate timeline."

She cocked her head, considering that. "You don't tamper with the timeline."

"And I didn't. You did." He paused, frowning. "Sort of. Your language lacks the words to adequately explain the temporal mechanics at work. Anyway. Let's just say some of your crew have the talent to look on the bright side of things. See for yourself…"

Kathryn's former self (alternate self? She already felt the headache coming on.) was getting her hands dirty, among every other part of herself, when an antique clock was slid into her line of vision. It was a beautifully crafted piece of work, doubly precious because of the sentiment behind it.

Kathryn felt the ridiculous urge to smack her other self upside the head when she rejected it, an action which would add a whole new dimension to self-punishment, if it were possible. And she truly, truly wished it were, especially when she saw the look of utter disbelief on Chakotay's face. He seemed to suck it up quickly, but rejection still shone in his dark, expressive eyes.

"You're lucky he's house-broken," Q commented off-handedly. "Dogs tend to leave a mess when they're slapped down like that."

Kathryn bared her teeth at him, which only a fool would mistake for a smile. Her grasp on patience was quickly becoming slippery at best; she didn't know how much longer she could hold on to it.

Q didn't even notice. He propped his head on his hands. "I suspect the only reason he kept putting up with your less than rational side after this is because he has no recollection of it."

"There'd better be a point to this, Q. I'm this close to doing you bodily harm."

"Oh, such violent tendencies. Humans truly are a barbaric race."

"Q…" she said, the warning clear in her voice.

"Yes, yes, of course there's a point, but I can see now that I overestimated your mind's capacity for comprehension. Well then, let's move on to the present."

Kathryn's last thought, before they disappeared in a flash, was that she should have gone with her violent tendencies.

It also happened to be Kathryn's first thought upon finding herself on the bridge of her ship. A strangely deserted bridge, she noticed, looking around, with the red alert lights rhythmically flashing in silence. Eventually her gaze settled on Q who was lounging in the center chair – her chair – while she had apparently been demoted to first officer. Which, with the way her day had been going, just figured.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Death apparently wasn't the ultimate cure for her headaches, either. "Now what, Q?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He waved a hand in the general direction of the viewscreen. "Now we watch your crew's inept attempts to save your life."

True enough, the screen came to life the moment he'd finished speaking, and morbid curiosity had her leaning forward in the seat. Not that she was particularly looking forward to it. There was after all something inherently wrong with watching her own death (again). It ranked right up there with evolving into a reptile-like creature and having offspring with Tom Paris.

Kathryn shook her head hard in an attempt to dispel that thought as quickly as possible. She had enough problems right now without taking another trip down memory lane. A whole lot of problems from the looks of things, she amended mutely, and blinked at the screen.

They had beamed her limp body directly to Sickbay where the Doctor and Tom Paris were frantically trying to staunch the bleeding. The rest of the away team hung back, their faces as pale as hers, their expressions hollow. Even if she hadn't already known the outcome, she could have read the truth in their liquid eyes.

There was so much blood. The biobed was covered in it, as were both the Doctor's and Tom's uniforms. It was hard to conceive that it had come from just one person. Surely, they had to know that they were fighting a losing battle, and still they tried. Even after her higher brain functions ceased and her heart went flatline, they tried.

Kathryn thought she heard a strangled sob coming from the far end of Sickbay when the EMH pronounced her dead, though it might have been her own. Seeing the stricken look on Tom's face, the pinched tightness around the Doctor's mouth, the open disbelief on the others' faces brought into sharp focus the one thing she was currently absolutely sure of: she'd erase their looks of pain given half a chance.

She turned towards the bane of her existence, and just barely repressed a scream when she found his face mere inches from hers.

"And that, Kathy, was just the beginning."

Kathryn opened her mouth to ask him what he meant by that enigmatic comment, or threaten bodily harm again, but the flash of light caught her before she could say a single word.

She really, really hated when Q did that. And being dumped in the dark didn't improve her mood, either.

Confused, she let her eyes adjust. After a moment, she was able to make out the basic lines of a room, and yet nearly missed the still figure sitting beneath the viewport.

He was sitting on the edge of the couch, arms braced on his thighs, shoulders tense. If it weren't for the faint shudder that went through his body every now and then, she'd think he weren't even breathing. His face was totally devoid of expression, but his eyes…

Kathryn took an involuntary step backwards when she saw his luminous, pain-filled eyes. "Chakotay…"

The telltale flash announced Q's presence a split second before he spoke. "He can't hear you, Kathy. To him, you're dead."

She whirled on him, her eyes ablaze. "Then why have you brought me here?"

"To show you that your actions have consequences beyond the immediately obvious." Q shrugged. "Of course your death should have accomplished that task, but you're a little more stubborn than most humans." He flashed himself next to Chakotay, scrutinizing him like a biologist would a Petri dish under the microscope. "And he's blaming himself, even though he wasn't even part of the away team." Q focused his gaze back on her. "He seems to think his presence would have made a difference when you and I both know you'd still be dead."

Her voice sounded strange even to her own ears. "You don't know that."

Q flashed himself back to her side. "Omnipotent here, remember?"

She sighed, weary. "I suppose we'll be moving on to future now?"

Q's brows shot up. "What future? You have none."

The reality of the situation slammed into Kathryn then, knocking the breath right out of her, and she stared at him in silent shock. Only now when the rug had been pulled out from under her did she realize that a small part of her had been clinging to the hope that this might be a game to Q. She could be such a fool . . .

Q leaned in close. "Tell me, Kathy, is that regret I see in your eyes?"

Kathryn's gaze returned to Chakotay and lingered on his face, normally warm and expressive, now drawn and carefully blank. Maybe Q was right. No, she knew he was right, much as it pained her to admit it, even to herself. She'd been too reckless. Her own mortality hadn't really figured into any of her decisions lately, hadn't even crossed her mind, truth be told. Now she wondered if it might have been residual arrogance from surviving the encounter with the alien masquerading as her father.

And Chakotay . . .

Kathryn had thought there was a time for them yet, but time was up now.

When her eyes met Q's, her vision was blurring. "Yes."

"Humans," Q sighed, smacking his forehead. "I know we can't all be perfect, but I'm waiting for the day you actually use your brains, puny as they may be, before you do something as vastly stupid as get yourself killed."

"I can't change that now."

"No, but I can," he said matter-of-factly, totally throwing her for a loop.

"What?"

"I feel a certain obligation towards my child. Very unusual feeling for a Q." He paused. "Or maybe not. I'm the first father the Continuum has seen, after all. Q junior is currently very unhappy with me for letting you die, and you wouldn't believe the damage one adolescent Q can do to the space-time-continuum when he's throwing a tantrum of astronomical proportions. Literally."

Kathryn shook her head, trying to make sense of his words. "Why go through all this trouble if you always intended to send me back?"

" Making sure you'd not screw up your life again. Alleviating my boredom. Not necessarily in that order." He leaned in close, his gaze boring into hers. "Try not to get yourself killed again. I can't always be your knight in shining armor."

Kathryn barely managed a glare before she disappeared in a flash of light.

Kathryn was relatively certain that her body wasn't supposed to hurt like she'd just been run over by an armada of Borg cubes. At least she hoped it wasn't. It was difficult to form a coherent thought over the vicious pounding in her head. She briefly wondered what she'd done to deserve this level of pain, but racking her brains for an answer didn't currently make the top of her priority list. Maybe, if she lay very, very still, the headache would subside enough for her to actually hear her own thoughts again. It seemed a novel idea at the moment.

It took several long moments but eventually the different sounds permeating the air penetrated the haze in her mind. Memory slammed back into her then, bringing with it a sweet relief and a profound sense of gratitude but leaving her momentarily breathless. Bracing herself, she pried open one eye. She was wholly unprepared for the sight of the harsh white lights of Sickbay, blinking against the tears that welled up.

Still, she was alive if not exactly kicking.

Kathryn took a deep, shuddering breath, ignoring the wave of nauseating pain that washed over her as a result. Except it was a bit more severe than she'd anticipated. "Ouch," she was all she managed once it had receded.

A strong, warm hand gently closed around hers. "Easy now," Chakotay said softly. "You've been through a lot."

Kathryn could almost laugh at that. He had no idea.

For several long moments, she relished the feel of her small hand in his bigger one, drawing comfort from the touch. It helped her reconnect with the world at large, and him in particular. She needed that, more than anything, she knew that now. And from what she had seen, he needed it too. She hoped. Taking a chance, she glanced up, and met his eyes. They were dark and warm, a stark contrast to what she'd seen in them only moments before. And if she'd never see that look of pain in his eyes again, it wouldn't be soon enough for her.

When Kathryn smiled up at him, he returned it with a real one of his own, dimples and all. To think she'd nearly lost that…

"Chakotay…" she trailed off, her voice strangled.

He gave her hand a hard squeeze. "Right here."

She needed a couple of tries to get past the lump in her throat. "What happened?" Although she had a pretty good idea what the answer was going to be, she needed to hear it from him.

He didn't seem to fare much better. "You gave us quite a scare," he said quietly. "We nearly lost you. In fact, we did lose you for a moment, but then your vital signs stabilized of their own volition. The Doctor has never seen anything quite like it." He flashed his teeth at her, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes this time. "Don't ever do that to me again, Kathryn."

A watery chuckle escaped her at that. "I'll try not to. I didn't particularly enjoy it, either."

He nodded, reluctantly letting go of her hand. "Get some rest now."

Her hand snapped up to keep him from leaving. "I've had more rest than I ever wanted," she said quietly. "And I've missed you." She blinked a few times in an effort to dispel the tears that had snuck up on her. From the way his brows connected, she could tell she'd confused him. Damn, this was proving to be harder than she'd anticipated. With what little strength she could muster, she reached one hand up to smooth away his frown. "I love you, you know."

Chakotay went utterly still. Clearly, she'd surprised him. And if she weren't holding her breath waiting for his response, she probably would have laughed at the stupefied look that crossed his face.

He recovered quickly, though, his dark eyes brightening with questions and something more. Kathryn let her eyes do all the talking, then, only closing them when he eventually leaned down to brush a soft kiss across her forehead. "Took you long enough," he said gently. "You seem to be the last to know."

Kathryn repressed the urge to sock him, mostly because she lacked the strength to make it worthwhile. "I tell you I love you and that's all you have to say?"

His free hand took hold of hers still stroking his face. He pressed a quick kiss into her palm. "Not quite. I love you, too, you know."

She grinned up at him.

Kathryn stood looking out the viewport of her quarters.

The planet below was oddly reminiscent of home, its massive landmass shaped not entirely unlike that of Earth's major continents. So what if what would have passed as the Italian coastline was mostly submerged, and Australia was missing entirely. All in all, it still bore a rather striking resemblance to Earth. Or it would have if the oceans weren't such a hideous shade of pink.

It was hard to believe she'd nearly died down there - had died down there, possibly. Kathryn still hadn't made up her mind about what really had occurred - which had made telling Chakotay about the experience slightly more insane than it would have been otherwise - but she was on the verge of giving up trying. With Q anything was possible and nothing was safe, least of all her sanity. Not that she had evidenced much of it recently when she'd gone traipsing off alone on an alien planet. She'd probably hear about that for a while, Kathryn thought. She always did with her more serious blunders, and (nearly) getting herself killed surely qualified as massive. Her Senior Staff might even resort to siccing a security detail on her from now on. They'd tried it before, but she might even tolerate it this time. For a while.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and Kathryn readily leaned into his embrace, smiling. "What are you doing up? It's the middle of the night," she said.

She felt his chuckle more than she actually heard it. "Funny. I was going to ask the same thing. Are you okay, Kathryn?"

She knew what he was really asking, heard the faint note of uncertainty in his voice. Four years was a long time to get set in one's ways, and up until two days ago, both of them had still been operating on the assumption that they could only be colleagues and friends, nothing more. Who could have known that all it took was the interference of the God of Perpetual Annoyance to change all that? Q certainly had put things into perspective, at least for her. She had the sneaking suspicion that Chakotay wouldn't have needed that kind of prodding had he been in her shoes.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." Kathryn turned around in his arms and placed a quick kiss on his frowning mouth, enjoying the little gasp of surprise that escaped him. "We're fine."

Chakotay recovered far quicker than she'd anticipated, though. One moment she was still wearing a rather smug expression, the next his mouth came crushing down on hers, and he kissed her back in earnest. Oh yes, the man could kiss when he set his mind to it. His slow exploration of every last part of her mouth made rational thought flee her mind at warp ten and her hormones happily take over. Hmm, he tasted really good . . .

Kathryn caught the flash of light out of the corner of her eyes as they came up for air. Judging by the way Chakotay's body went from relaxed to ramrod straight in the space of two seconds, he wasn't oblivious to their new guest, either. Groaning, she let her head drop to his chest.

"Now isn't this cute."

Kathryn's head snapped back up and around, not quite believing her ears. Q's rather obnoxious mate was sprawled across the recliner in a pose of natural ennui. Kathryn sighed.

Chakotay beat her to asking the obvious, his voice tight. "What are you doing here?"

"I was trying to figure out what Q sees in her," Q's mate answered, looking down her perfectly shaped nose at Kathryn. "But I just don't get it. Limited carbon-based brain, laughable mental abilities, brief lifespan, aging . . ." Her voice trailed away, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, when Kathryn began shaking.

Before long, she was laughing in earnest. Undignified full-belly laughs had tears of joy springing to her eyes. Chakotay, clearly at a loss for what else to do, simply held on to her, lest she slide down to the floor. And still she laughed.

The annoyance in the female Q's eyes was only surpassed by the petulance in her voice. "I fail to see the humor."

By the time Kathryn got a hold of herself, her sides were aching and she had difficulty drawing a deep breath. Patting Chakotay's chest, she silently assured him that she was going to be all right. "You're jealous," she finally managed, her voice somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

Q's mate waved a hand. "Don't be ridiculous. I merely found myself oddly . . . curious."

Chakotay squinted at her. "You are jealous." His eyes went flat. "Why?"

For several long moments, the female Q remained stoically silent. Eventually though, frustration and, judging by their previous encounter, a deep-seated need to draw attention to herself won out. "I can't even get the reprobate to spend more than five minutes with me now that he has a son. Yet when she goes and kills herself, he rushes to her rescue." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "And I just don't get it."

Kathryn considered her answer carefully. "Not that I'm ungrateful here, but how is that my fault?"

The female Q and Chakotay shot her looks of equal disbelief.

Kathryn waved their unspoken words away. "No, I mean apart from dying. That I gladly could have done without, myself. My point is, I have little control over Q's actions, much to my dismay."

The telltale flash didn't even surprise her. She merely wondered when, exactly, her life had taken a turn for the bizarre.

"You called, Kathy?" Q asked cheerfully.

"No, she didn't," Chakotay and Q's mate said in unison. But whereas Chakotay's response was more of an unarticulated growl, the current bane of Kathryn's existence merely sounded slightly irritated.

Q rolled his eyes. "Jealous again, Chuckles? Well aren't you a waste of two billion years of evolution." His gaze swung to Kathryn and he continued without missing beat, "Do you now grasp the great length I've gone to for you? The debt can never be repaid."

Kathryn subtly put herself fully between the two men, placing a restraining hand on Chakotay's arm. "Since your mate has dropped by to be rather rude and insulting in your stead, I'd say we're even."

Q chanced a look at his mate and frowned. "Point taken," he conceded.

"Excuse me?" the female Q interrupted, tapping her fingers on the armrest. "I don't appreciate being talked about as if I weren't here."

"We could always talk about you behind your back," Chakotay offered pleasantly. "All you have to do is leave."

"He speaks," Q said, faintly surprised. He turned around to his mate. "Did you know that?"

She arched one brow. "He has to have some redeeming quality, doesn't he. Unlike you."

Q clutched at his heart. "Me? I'm the epitome of exemplarily Q-ness."

"Enough!" Kathryn rubbed her head tiredly. "If you have to have a marital spat, have it elsewhere. I, for one, plan on having another round of terrific, hopefully mind-blowing sex with my First Officer. So just go away, both of you."

In the stunned silence that followed, Kathryn grabbed Chakotay's hand and headed for the bedroom at a near run, only slowing down once they were safely inside, the doors were closed, and the lock engaged. Only then did she allow herself to draw a deep breath. "Well, that was fun."

Chakotay looked at her strangely. "I need to repress this. Very badly," he said, running a hand over his face. Then his eyes lit with something that sent delicious shivers down her spine. "Can we skip talking about this and move on to having another round of terrific and hopefully mind-blowing sex?"

"Well, if you insist . . ."

THE END

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