Fic: Some Time Together [Picard/Q]

Dec 10, 2012 01:08

Title: Some Time Together
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Fandom: Star Trek - The Next Generation
Summary: Once when Picard died, Q promised (threatened) to spend all of eternity with him. He intends to keep his promise.
Pairing: Picard/Q
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character Death
Word Count: 810
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: Specifically inspired by 6x15 - Tapestry; written for the hc_bingo prompt: Death.
Feedback is hugely welcomed.
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AO3
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    Q was stretched out atop the compressed atoms of hydrogen which burned orange-red in the collection of dust which made up the Cascade Nebula as he waited. In order to distract himself (an effort virtually impossible for an omniscient being) Q considered the fusing atoms and the nascent stars for a moment (the length of time it took an artificial heart to beat, to slow and come to an abrupt, painful stop) and adjusted the temperature and elements of the light-years long cloud of proto-star matter until it matched the red of his favorite Starfleet uniform. Once the red was at the perfect shade, he grinned, well… not exactly, his body wasn‘t human shaped but that was the nearest approximation. As the last neuron in Picard’s brain flickered and went dark, Q compressed the space around him, and then shifted himself to another plane, leaving an impression of his body on stardust.

    As the coils of biological anchors - matter/reality/whatever pitiful word humans chose to use that millennium - withered away and let Picard slip free, Q dropped from the higher plane he’d been in and reached for him.

    Picard shot above him, shifting through dimensional planes and up and up at a speed which caught Q off guard. Q swore, a string of Culurian curses words which was always so satisfying to use - especially since the species was long extinct - and threw himself after him, chasing the burning gold-purple trail. Like a rabbit trying to outrun a fox, or more accurately a fox trying to outrun a cougar, Picard burned ever upwards, clearing 5 then 12 then 23 dimension planes.

    He was impossible and Q started laughing fit to vibrate the galaxy as he sped after him. He turned and swerved and zigzagged and spun through the heat patterns of blue giants, diving into the temporal distortion of black holes and forcing Q to do something he nearly never did: begin to reach his limits. But then that was his mon capitain.

    Just before they reached the outer zone of the dimensional plane which divided life and death, those who achieved the higher plane and those who passed on, a barrier even a Q could not cross unless he died, Q caught the ember of Picard’s consciousness, the concentrated energy of self named Jean-Luc Picard. For a minute, a year, a week, a decade, Q contemplated the fluttering small thing in his tendrils of energy which doubled as hands and marveled at the delicacy, brutal beauty, controlled darkness and nearly unbreakable will which made up this addicting human.

    Then he shifted them both down, down, until they appeared, clad again in human bodies in an pocket dimension which Q controlled.

    Picard stood with his back to Q, his bald head looking all around the endless glowing white which Q had created for him. He was wearing a particularly fetching - and tight - civilian outfit in pale cornflower blue which bared his forearms and biceps. Q admired him, and with immaterial fingers made certain that every lingering scar, hair follicle - or lack thereof - had been perfectly replicated. He knew he’d been accurate from the beginning, but the excuse to touch Picard was too good even for an omniscient being like himself to pass up.

    “Q,” Picard said quietly, without ever turning around. “I‘d ask what I was doing here, but I suspect I already know.” His tone was low and exasperated, but the warmth of amusement brightened the darkness of his voice with a shot of electric green.

    Q took a second to delightfully shiver in reaction to that voice. Instantly, he shifted his place in this plane to appear right behind this intriguing, stubborn, exasperating and thrilling human. Q leaned close enough to whisper, close enough to press his human lips to the pale pink shell of Picard‘s ear. “I made you a promise once, mon capitain, of what would happen to you once you died.”

    “Hm… yes, I think I do recall you making such a threat once,” Picard said dryly, turning to look at him through narrowed, contemplative eyes. Q was delighted when he refused to step back even though they were close enough that a slight nod from either one would lead to their lips brushing together. “So I take it, we‘re going to be spend some time together?”

    “Oh, yes, Jean-Luc… for all of eternity.” Q expected an angry retort, a demand to be released; the possibility for it far exceeded any other he’d considered.

    The small quirk of a smile he received proved to him yet again that even in death Jean-Luc Picard could surprise him. “I look forward to it.”

    If Q chose that moment to press his mouth to Picard’s, well… the mortal had clearly been asking for it. Why else would he look so provocative?

    End
a/n: Having recently seen ‘Tapestry’ if found myself thinking that at no point had Q said that his promise to spend all of eternity with Picard was a one time thing. Q (heh) the plot bunny. *is smacked for the terrible pun*

warning: major character death, pairing: picard/q, word count: 500-1000, genre: slash, challenge: hc_bingo, fanfic: oneshot, fandom: tng

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