[ He briefly steps behind, but only to hold the door open to the stairwell and allow her to step past him. The only way is up from there, and he joins her again. If she was breathless before, the twelfth floor will be exhausting. Fortunately his prediction still seemed to be holding water. The mistletoe was nowhere to be seen, not lurking under doorways or around corners, and their way remained relatively unimpeded, but for the stairs.
He rolled his eyes at her explanation. He was the solution to the unwinnable scenario. Him. He didn't know whether to be offended or flattered. ]
Oh, I see how it is. In that case I'm glad to be of service. I'll be sure to invite you over the next time the city sets about humiliating everyone in sight.
[ A tinge of sarcasm, maybe, but if there was it was to mask something compassionate about the offer.
In truth, he understood. In the end, Q and Janeway were equals, would always be (no matter how he waved his hand and insisted otherwise). It was she who had saved his life in the Continuum, she who had walked into the enemy camp with nothing but a white flag to try and bargain for a truce. They had an understanding, a strange but functional relationship that wouldn't have been easy to explain--oh, he wished he could see her report to Starfleet about his appearances! Before a board of enquiry, perhaps, or a classroom full of cadets. That would be delightful!
Here, though, their equality played a different role. No delicate chain of command constrained them, and at the end of the day Q would still be Q, and she would still be no less 'Kathy', meant endearingly but with no more respect for human protocol or etiquette than usual, and with no sulking about wishing for things to be different.
No, they were both, Q thought, quite happy with the status quo, thank you very much. No dynamic shifted. The City couldn't win. Their shields were permanently up. Perhaps there was something funny about that. ]
Ha! [ He said, at last. Ha! Take that, Mistletoe! ]
action
He rolled his eyes at her explanation. He was the solution to the unwinnable scenario. Him. He didn't know whether to be offended or flattered. ]
Oh, I see how it is. In that case I'm glad to be of service. I'll be sure to invite you over the next time the city sets about humiliating everyone in sight.
[ A tinge of sarcasm, maybe, but if there was it was to mask something compassionate about the offer.
In truth, he understood. In the end, Q and Janeway were equals, would always be (no matter how he waved his hand and insisted otherwise). It was she who had saved his life in the Continuum, she who had walked into the enemy camp with nothing but a white flag to try and bargain for a truce. They had an understanding, a strange but functional relationship that wouldn't have been easy to explain--oh, he wished he could see her report to Starfleet about his appearances! Before a board of enquiry, perhaps, or a classroom full of cadets. That would be delightful!
Here, though, their equality played a different role. No delicate chain of command constrained them, and at the end of the day Q would still be Q, and she would still be no less 'Kathy', meant endearingly but with no more respect for human protocol or etiquette than usual, and with no sulking about wishing for things to be different.
No, they were both, Q thought, quite happy with the status quo, thank you very much. No dynamic shifted. The City couldn't win. Their shields were permanently up. Perhaps there was something funny about that. ]
Ha! [ He said, at last. Ha! Take that, Mistletoe! ]