fingersnapping | IC Contact

[ she's likely going to regret this later, but there's already so many things she's done today — not of her own accord, of course (thanks, curses) — that she already deeply regrets. what's one more? ]

have you ventured to the roof of any of the buildings in the city before?

It hadn't occurred to me, to tell you the truth. I took the tour of the Empire State Building once. It didn't even go right to the top--imagine my disappointment. And since the rest of the visitors looked as bored as I did, I obliged them the better view.

I suppose you have sightseeing in mind?

something like that. we're going to spend the rest of the day atop one of those buildings. any building, i don't care. pick one and i'll meet you up there.

[ going where hopefully no mistletoe has gone before! what's the city going to do, dangle it from the clouds? she'll be damned if she gets caught under another godforsaken sprig. ]

[ Oh, he sees what her problem is now. But the real question is: why spend it with him Is it because she's embarrassed to find herself with anyone else that might join her? ]

I could fetch you?

[ Testing his theory. ]

[ she actually jumps, oddly easier to startle today. ]

Q! I have legs that I am perfectly capable of walking on. I don't need an omnipotent transporter service.

[ His eyes flicker skywards, checking for errant mistletoe, but they're safe for now. He links arms with her deliberately. ]

Nonsense. You've been going to all this effort to design a machine that will do exactly the same thing, but I am significantly more charming than a machine, and generally much better company.

[ He clicks his fingers again. They find themselves on top of the apartment block denoting 12. And since it's still impossibly cold, a swish of his hand summons lounge chairs, slippers, a rug, and a sizzling hearth. They should at least be cozy. ]

[ she rolls her eyes, her protest dying on her tongue when she finds herself moved from the crowded streets of the city to the top an apartment building. reclaiming her arm, she scans the area above them for any signs of the city's trickery, breathing a sigh of relief when she finds none. finally. she'd had enough of that. more than enough. ]

Not exactly what I had in mind, but thank you all the same.

Any time, mon capitaine.

[ Q only gestures toward the chairs, the fire, offering her the opportunity to choose one for herself. He stays back to give her space, rather than seem as though he were herding her or leading the way. If instead she walked toward the edge of the building--well, then he'd join her there. ]

I understand your consternation. All this...petty manipulation of our free will? How do you stand it?

[ Haha. ]

[ that's exactly what she does: head for the edge, placing her hands on the ledge to peer over the side at the ground below. ]

Says the pot calling the kettle black. [ but she digresses, frowning. ] I don't. You of all people should know that I have zero tolerance for these so-called "curses" they keep inflicting upon us.

Edited (copypasta fail, oops ...also i can't spell) 2013-12-14 21:52 (UTC)

So I do, and such is my right to do so as the pot.

[ He stays back for a few moments longer, his arms folding behind his back, and then he skirts the fire, approaching the parapet several feet from her, maintaining some part of the distance between them. ]

But perhaps if I escape with some memory of this place--oh, who am I kidding? [ He was never going to change. He changes the subject. ] How bad was it?

[ she snorts in response to his owning of the pot label and his acknowledgement of the fact that he'll never change, but it's halfhearted disapproval at best. turning around, she leans back against the ledge of the building. ]

How bad was what?

Your day, Kathy. It was quite terrible, wasn't it?

[ Q doesn't fix her with a piercing stare, instead looking down into the clockface of the city center below them. It was already dull. Even with this new perspective over the place, it was still utterly boring. He was near it now - the end of his rope - three weeks, that was all it had taken. And after that...

But he wasn't going to push Janeway for an answer if she didn't want to give one. She'd come to join him out of all the people she might have tried to survive the night with, and he was still trying to decide which of the reasons he'd made up why that he liked best. ]

Yes.

[ a simple enough answer, though while it does well to summarize, it doesn't do justice to the gravity of the situation. this curse just drove a wedge between herself and her first officer, something that wasn't kathryn's fault, but she felt immensely guilty for nonetheless. nevermind the lines she crossed with kirk. flirting with him was one thing, kissing him was another matter entirely. none of it sat well with her, even if nothing that happened was her fault. it was still her, even if it wasn't her. curse or not, her actions still came with consequences.

frowning, she looks down at the pebbled stone that makes up the floor of the roof. for the first time in the near six months since she's been here, she's glad she's not on voyager. there was nowhere to go, had this happened aboard the ship. there would've been no real way of giving him the space he needed, of letting time do some mending before they sat down to have that inevitable conversation she knew he knew wasn't going to go the way he wanted. because she wouldn't allow it — she wouldn't even let herself contemplate that set of what ifs, why would she give it the go ahead just because they were stuck here? it was going to be unpleasant no matter how it went, all because a plant and a curse threw them out of sync. she maintained a careful balance with her second in command, and that scale was now tipping. ]

[ He shifts slightly to face her, taking in the full weight of her expression, the way she's standing. He's not a total boar--he can see her quandary. And not unexpectedly. This curse has forced her into a position she'd rather not have been in. It isn't the fact that her body was rendered out of her own control - although the lack of control was a part of it - it was what it represented, and with whom, that had carved a knife into her gut. She felt as though her ability to separate Captain from Woman was something balanced perilously enough already - he had known that much back when he was still able to know things - and here that separation had been taken from her, yanked away like the metaphorical rug.

No wonder she looked like someone had just kicked her puppy. He looked away again. ]

You're welcome to stay with me if you find your own situation too frosty. Don't flatter yourself. The quiet is unsettling. You'd be doing me a favor.

[ that's exactly it, and she knows that he'd understand the why of all that. he used to know things about her, before his ability to do so was silenced by the nature of this place. there was no need for her to speak and give voice to something she didn't want to address, because he was already aware of it. that's one of the reasons she sought him out, why she selected q of all people for company while riding out the rest of this accursed day. his offer was the other. ]

I figured as much. [ she looked up again, regaining some of her composure. ] Truth is, I was planning on offering to keep you company [ keep an eye on you ], but certain... events have put that matter ahead of schedule, so to speak.

Then we find ourselves in a mutual accord. You're welcome any time, of course.

[ He's intolerable, but not for want of trying. Mostly it's little things: he sleeps with the lights on, because when they're off - and lacking his omniscience - it genuinely feels like there's nothing there when he wakes up in the dark.

He pulls himself away from the edge, moving over to the chairs so that he can sit and laboriously slither his feet out of the Starfleet issue footwear. ]

I made hot cocoa. Well--it was hot. [ A gentle distraction more than anything. The subject was still there, but indelicate prodding - he'd discovered - tended to get him nowhere. Besides, not dwelling on the topic of inviting Janeway to stay with him was at least intended to make it seem like it was no big deal, when in fact it was perhaps a bigger deal than almost anything else she'd done for him so far. When Q felt like rubbing someone's nose in it, he didn't hesitate--but this was bigger than that, it meant something; genuinely meant something to him, and sobriety was his answer. It was unsubtle, as much as he might have thought otherwise. ]

Going back would complicate things. [ to the apartment she and her crew had claimed across from kirk and mccoy's. complicate things more than necessary, and kathryn had already told chakotay to stay, because b'elanna would benefit from his presence (and he from hers), as she'd already toyed with the idea of keeping a closer eye on q. what the crew of the enterprise thought be damned; this was one situation she felt she had firm footing in. ironically, q's presence was a welcomed reprieve from the frustration of dealing with 21st century culture and the antique technology that came with it. ]

Can't you heat it back up? Or have you exhausted your talents for the day? [ spock had spoke of monitoring the limitations of q's powers, but kathryn was already doing so. she was also withholding what she had already figured out in regards to that from everyone — her crew and kirk's. it was her captain's prerogative to do so, and while she was underhanded enough to use information like q's dislike of force fields against him, she wasn't foolish enough to give away all his secrets. no, she needed to maintain that trust, especially when other areas of trust were now suffering. all because of mistletoe.

she shakes her head at the ridiculousness of it all, how something so simple could shake ~~her~~ things up like so. it's absurd to the point that she's actually reluctant to include any of it in the logs she's been stubbornly keeping up with since july.

kathryn takes a moment to shake her hair out, many of the locks having fallen out of place thanks to the curse and wandering hands. it's grown longer, and she's neglected to keep up with cutting it like she did back on voyager. there's no point here, when she's not engrossed in daily activities that make having long hair troublesome, whether it be getting it all off your shoulders in the morning or snagging your hair on rivets while crawling through jeffrey's tubes. she runs her fingers through it, plaits it over one shoulder.

only then does she join him, finally moving away from the edge and taking a seat in the chair next to his. ]

Edited 2013-12-15 01:13 (UTC)

I have a trick up each sleeve, at least.

[ The headache was still safely at bay, but his caution wasn't remotely about the temperature of the cocoa. Instead, his mind was on the mistletoe, as hers was. If he used up all his power, and the mistletoe did somehow make an appearance, it might take every ounce of strength he had to dispel it. He would certainly try.

But he does pause to watch her for a moment as she loosens and then plaits her hair, carefully - but not entirely - concealing the warmth he feels at what he perceives to be a certain familiarity. She seems almost relaxed. Shocking, really. People didn't relax around him; it was part of Starfleet's mandate, no doubt, in that naughty little post-it note concerning the Q: don't ever relax. But here she was, uncoiling from her ever-readiness.

He hands her the mug quietly, and maybe because he's feeling self conscious, spares one more trick on warming it back up, despite the threatening pinch he feels at the bridge of his nose. Just you try it, the discomfort said, I'm watching you, Q. ]

Each sleeve and pant leg?

[ look at that, she's cracking jokes, too! of course, kathryn was a walking contradiction if there ever was one when it came to starfleet's most feared and resented. what's relaxing around a q when being around the borg barely makes her tense anymore? especially this q. around the female q or one of those q on the council (or likely what she just perceived be a council within the limitations of her mortal mind), her guard would be up all the way. she wouldn't sit, wouldn't engage in idle conversation, wouldn't accept a cup of hot chocolate and drink from it without inquiring as to what was added to the mix. but with this one, she takes the cup with a small smile and a "thank you," and sips without question as to what is and isn't in it. ]

I think we can do without any more tricks today. There's no harm in walking. [ unless it involves walking under the mistletoe, which is why she's going to stubbornly roost on top of this building until the sun sets. ]

[ It's the least he can do. Part of the therapy of hot chocolate is, of course, the moments of sitting there with it, contemplating the silken shine on the surface, the dark depths, the scent and warmth, embracing it, in the effort to tune out everything else. Cold cocoa would be denying her that, and Q knew - in his experience of knowing some useful things and not others - that today of all days, it would be a literal godsend. ]

I think I can deign to walk us home. But we have a few hours yet.

[ Which wouldn't be spent sat in silence because he's Q, but at least for the time being he gives her time with her cocoa, shoving his feet into his slippers and taking a sip of his own, before jumping up and stepping over to prod the fire. When he was done, it was back into the chair, watching Janeway fixedly over the top of his cup, the way the firelight flickered against her skin, turned her hair to burnished gold. No wonder she treasured those 18th century holo-programs--they raw lighting brought out her best side. ]

[ there was novelty to be found in those programs, fascination with the innocence the world still possessed, back when everything was small and people didn't think to look at what was lying beyond the exosphere. this century doesn't possess any of those qualities. humanity is flawed, selfish, and on the verge of becoming the very thing that helped to ignite the third world war. it's unsettling, being so deeply immersed in it, having to rely on it for basic survival. most likely think she's just too much of a child of the 24th century to function in a century like this, that she misses her replicators and holodecks and sonic showers, not that she takes issue with the atmosphere of the times, with how humanity carried itself and viewed the rest of the world. they don't know any better, because they don't question and she doesn't feel the need to explain herself — to anyone. ]

Were you... [ kathryn clears her throat, sets the now empty cup aside. she turns to properly face him, crossing one leg over the other and cupping her knee between laced fingers. ] That is, did you find yourself driven to act by this curse at all?

[ morbid curiosity that is both scientific and not. part of her wants to know for reasons that feel more like intel gathered at a lunchroom table back in high school, but the other part wants to know if curses affect him in the same way they do everyone else. ]

[ He hasn't looked away during that time, completing his quiet study, and when she does look toward him he only braces his elbow against the edge of the chair, dropping his hand into it. ]

I had one or two brushes with it, yes. I understand it's expected for two humans to kiss when they find themselves beneath the mistletoe, but it never occurred to me that the mistletoe might force the matter.

[ He could fill in the gap with a nugget of information about emotion-devouring plants on the outer arm of the Milky Way galaxy that might learn something from this particular strain, but it would break the mood. Instead he inclines his head slightly to ask: ]

Strategy or honest curiosity? I promise not to be offended.

[ Not that he ever really was, despite his act. ]

[ she wonders who, if one of those unfortunate souls was that girl who was both unphased by his depiction of the continuum and responded in kind to his flirting — something kathryn never did. irrelevant, as seven would say. ]

Both.

[ He reads her quietly for a moment, then smiles, leaning his shoulder on into the chair as though reclining into it. Truly the situation had disturbed him as much as it probably did her - at first - and then, well, he simply went along with it, because what the hell? It was against his will, but so was sleeping, and as experiences went he'd much rather put up with the kissing. It wasn't massively unpleasant. ]

I don't have the same disadvantage as you, Kathy. For me, a kiss can just be a kiss. I'm not breaking any rules or reshuffling the deck. Nobody's going to look at me and wonder what if, and it certainly isn't going to make anything awkward. Look at us, after all. And that's just fine with me. It's my privilege to be at once equal and above reproach.

[ In some ways perhaps it was also a curse, but it didn't do to dwell. ]

The problem isn't the kiss at all. You're a grown woman, you can kiss whoever you like. It's that it meant something; something you can't take back.

[ He's trying to be delicate, feeling out at his attempts to be helpful to see how far he can go, but it still might be too soon--he's very aware of that possibility. Still, no small gain without risk. ]

[ he's right. he isn't bound by the same rules as she is — and, one could argue (if they dared to put the argument up against her, which wouldn't be a good idea) that she isn't either. not here, at least. she's a captain, but the captain of what while stuck in the city? what starfleet, what federation? of course, the same could be said about being lost in the delta quadrant. if five years out in deep, uncharted space with little to no contact with home won't make her abandon her pips and position, six months in this city isn't going to do the trick. but she is a captain, which makes kissing people like chakotay and kirk — nevermind the fact that she did a little bit more than just kiss them, and she's got a bruise concealed under her braid to prove it — inappropriate and unacceptable.

she frowns, nods. ] Something I didn't necessarily mean, but was interpreted as much... until it wasn't. [ it was giving someone who had feelings for her hope, then immediately taking it back when she came to her senses and he realized it was a curse, that she had come on to him through no will of her own. she hurt him, and she can't take that back. ]

This is ridiculous. I can't believe I'm talking about this. [ addressing it all, and addressing it with him of all people. (but she doesn't exactly have any friends. acquaintances and fellow officers, but not friends. not really.) ]

text | forward-dated to 12/17

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