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[ 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.) ]

[ Definitely Chakotay, as though he hadn't guessed as much already. He considers it, given all the variables, how it most certainly must have gone down, how it would proceed--that was what the Q did, or had done. Study, propose, then sit back to see if it went down that way or not. Some Q, for example, had proposed that humanity wouldn't have what it took to climb out of the primordial ooze, but Q had known better. Q had faith in them. And now here he was talking romance as though they were equals. Who would have thought?

But here was Janeway's quandary: Chakotay had feelings for her, and was willing to explore them. He knew she had feelings for him too, and knew equally that she was unwilling - and perhaps always would be. The mistletoe had given him but a taste of something he'd never have, and hardened her resolve besides. The situation, formed from its back, had seen to that: she had seen how it would damage their relationship, and couldn't afford for it to happen again. Oh, she could give some token command, tell him to forget what happened--but if she did that, Chakotay would never forgive her. And now Janeway, who was astute in the ways of interpersonal relations as she was in science, knew that she had two options: stand her ground even though it would drive her First Officer away from her, or - the option she could never permit herself to follow, would rather die first - settle, sending her responsibilities to the sticking place, and give Chakotay what he wanted, something which would end in failure because the man was wired empathically, and would be able to tell within seconds that a part of Janeway was dying just to make him happy.

There was only really one option, Q thought, but he'd been wrong before. Janeway would stay herself. She had to. Her dogged determination would hold her through any storm, steer her past any enemy, surmount even the tumultuous waters of love and loss. Had she wept over the loss of her fiancee, he wondered? Did she even stop to let herself feel it?

He lifted his hard stare away from her, was careful about how he spoke after he declaration. ]

You have your responsibilities and Chakotay has his. You hurt him, but perhaps he's just as concerned that he might have hurt you. This is a slip for him too; no doubt he spends a majority of his time trying to keep you from feeling uncomfortable around him--even if in general his efforts seem to be failing.

It's been coming to this for months, hasn't it?

[ if not for the q's ability to know things simply by knowing, she'd question the accuracy of his statements, of his question. but he knows, and she knows that he knows. how could he not? it was obvious enough back on her ship that there was a section of the betting pools directed to whether or not chakotay would ever elicit a "response" from her or if she'd continue to be seemingly oblivious to what everyone else was well aware of. (she turned a blind eye to something she would've put a stop to were they a normal crew back in the alpha quadrant, but the betting circles contributed to positive crew morale, and she wasn't about to deprieve any of them of something that made getting out of bed in the morning a little more worthwhile than just showing up for duty.) chakotay was in love with her, and she... while she would admit that she felt something, it was never going to be anything she would allow to grow beyond that spark of potential. she cared, but she couldn't care in the way he wanted her to. that was the problem.

and why her only solution was to put her shields back up and hurt him again by refusing to budge from the position she maintained. a curse-driven kiss wasn't going to chance that. it couldn't, and if he knew her as well as she hoped and though he did, he would know this. but lately, she hasn't been so sure of that... which is why his question is so painfully accurate. ]

Yes. [ not necessarily the kissing part of it, but the blow up of general tension between them. on voyager there was structure, a careful balance of power and distance they maintained that worked for them. here? it didn't work, and cohabitation in an attempt to keep all their people close together only made matters worse. chakotay was willing to adapt, would settle if he had to, and he'd flourish here. kathryn? was too stubborn to settle, refused to adapt, and would continue tripping awkwardly over references she didn't understand and the customs tied to holidays that earth hasn't celebrated in centuries. she was like a puzzle piece that was trying to fit in the wrong puzzle — it just wasn't going to work.

a lot of things weren't going to work, and having zero control over her more inappropriate actions today wasn't helping. ]

I'm not relieving him of duty, I just— [ she sighs; slowly, heavily. ] He needs time. I can give him time and expect him to do what he can of his job while we're stuck in this godforsaken place without face-to-face contact with his captain. [ texting was useful for something.

her gaze turns sharp, threatening — deadly, and she directs it at him. ] If you repeat any of this to anyone, especially him, you'll wake up encased in force fields.

[ Chilled him to the bone, that stare, but then it was exactly the same stare he had no doubt she'd turned full force on a Borg Queen or two during her time all at sea. He wasn't about to question it, or spill a single word and risk the full force of her ire, so he was quick to raise his hands in mock surrender, stopping only to reach down, zip his lips, lock them and throw away the imaginary key.

And when he was done being silly, trying to laugh off the icy, uncomfortable feeling her warning had left in his gut, he turned back toward the fire, just for a second, before slanting his gaze back toward Janeway again.

He gently nudges the subject on to something less terrifying. ]

You realise it's almost Christmas? Of course, you probably don't celebrate it, but I have. Never was there more contrast between the best and worse of humanity than Christmas.

If these curses should be Gregorian based, as I think they are, then we almost certainly have reason to prepare for the worst. Don't you think so?

[ which made her feel even more ridiculous for getting riled up over kissing people of all things when she barely batted an eyelash at the borg queen. she'd walked the corridors of a borg ship in the heart of borg space alone, with only a weapon they would likely adapt to within a few shots to protect her, and she hadn't even flinched. yet she's compelled to kiss her first officer and she goes running off to hide in a store where she feigns shopping for a holiday she finds as ridiculous as she did in childhood and is now doing the same on a rooftop with one of the federation's greatest headaches. ]

I'm a scientist, not a historian. [ how very mccoy of her, but that doesn't make the statement any less true. in regards to 21st century culture and other aspects of earth's history, when she doesn't have tom's expertise or the ship's database to consult, she's lost. sure, she could "google" the information, but this century was notorious for promoting unsourced information that was often inconsistent, incorrect, and misrepresented. she really hates this time, this place. ] But, yes, I'm aware. No, I don't celebrate it. I'm not exactly a traditionalist. The old holidays don't really pertain to the 24th Century.

[ especially when living aboard starships full of dozens of different species, all of which have different beliefs, customs, and days they observe. kathryn, personally, sees little point in recognizing things like christmas or the new year. ]

Are you suggesting the worst is yet to come? Because I've had my fill of curses.

[ Of course she didn't. Because science and tradition didn't really go hand in hand, and if Janeway was given the option between sharing gifts with her family and observing a bistellar supernova, only one choice would occur to her. But Q smiled, tilting his head down away from her to peer into the fire. ]

It's a time of forgiveness, good will to all men, of sentimentality and gift-giving and excess. But in contrast, it might whim you to tell people what you really think of them, trigger arguments, inspire people to drink far too much. I can't imagine anything good coming of it, can you?

[ But he shakes his head. ]

Truly, if I were in control of this place I wouldn't bother. People are self destructive enough on this medieval holiday without making it any harder for them. Maybe we'll get a day off.

[ Maybe not. And what was that about tempting fate? ]

You stick with me, Kathy. I'll make sure you don't do anything else you might regret and we'll go from there. Sound fair to you?

[ she scoffs at the incredulity of his suggestion. stick with him. as if she, kathryn janeway, needs some sort of bodyguard or lookout. that's not who she is. she's not the damsel in distress. she's the one who defies all these antiquated gender role stereotypes this century is oh so fond of and rescues her own damned self after being kidnapped. she's the hero of her own story, she doesn't need someone to play the role for her. it's frustrating to be presented with something she found grating in the kazon alive and well in her own species. why tom is so fascinated with this era, she'll never know. it's all too barbaric for her tastes. ]

And what if the mistletoe compels me to kiss you? Would you do everything in your power to stop that or reap the benefits of it?

[ a bold question, but bold might as well be one of her many middle names. ]

Edited 2013-12-15 06:07 (UTC)

[ To tell the truth there was as much gentle ribbing in the suggestion as otherwise. The problem with finding oneself attracted to formidable women was that sooner or later you were treated very much to the true ways of the universe, and that inevitably meant the realisation that universally, as a gender, women would invariably have the upper hand, and there was nothing anyone could do about it, protestations to the contrary withstanding.

And if Q didn't like that, he could have found himself someone soft and brainwashed to pine over. There were enough species in the universe that imprinted on their respective partners that it wouldn't have been too hard. No, it just wasn't the way he liked to play the game. What was the point if it was easy?

That was fundamentally the problem with the mistletoe. What was the point if it was easy? It was like reading the last page of a book without taking in the whole story. Like being told how a movie would end. Like someone telling you how your children would look when they'd finished growing. For Q, who could have anything he wanted without so much as lifting a finger (although he often did just for show), the novelty was in the journey. Oh, how dull! Janeway had been right after all. But like hell was he ever going to tell her that. ]

Madame Captain, you imply I'd have a choice in the matter myself, but let's argue either way, shall we? First, were it in my power to do so, I would most certainly see to it. I have my reasons, but suffice is to say that I don't find compulsion revs my engine so to speak. What's the point in being handsome, dashing and all-powerful if you have to beg for scraps?

The second, then: Suppose we were to find ourselves, even here-- [ He motioned skywards. ] --abducted by the throes of passion. Well, I'd certainly throw myself into the experience, I don't know about you. But what would it mean? Only that we have both been convicted to the same cruel trickery, and we should collectively be very angry about it. A little congratulations on my prowess wouldn't go amiss, but all in all I can't imagine our not being able to go on with things as though nothing has happened, and in the spirit of mindality, mon chere capitaine, lack of belief in the incident may indeed strike it cleanly from existence, if that is what you prefer.

I'd be offended, but I wouldn't hold it against you. The mind must adapt to accept only the reality it can live with, after all. [ Okay, so that last bit was pure teasing, but who could blame him? ]

I don't particularly like the idea of a Q being forced into the same situations as us "lowly" mortals. I was hoping that you had some sort of... control over the situation that the rest of us lacked, but if you're experiencing the same unbidden burst we are, then... [ that's damned unsettling. as unsettling as a q with nerfed abilities who supposedly wasn't thrown into this holding cell of a century by the continuum to teach him some sort of lesson about playing well with others. she's doesn't fully believe that he didn't do anything to warrant this, that the continuum isn't behind his being here, but is open to the possibility that even the q can find themselves victims of the city. ]

To be honest, [ she uncrosses her legs, sits up straighter, and pushes her braid back off her shoulder, momentarily forgetting about the hickey it was hiding. ] it's not the kissing itself that I have a problem with. Sure, as a captain, I'm required to take issue with kissing certain individuals, but as a person, I'm bothered by the lack of control. Free will. If I'm going to kiss someone, it's going to be on my own terms and not because some plant demands that I do so.

Free will is invariably the problem. Take it from someone who knows.

[ He sits up too, but still sidewards on the chair, his legs curled up behind him, because now that the light catches her just so, he can see the bruise - well formed now - where it sits between her shoulder and her throat. Well now. Chakotay really hadn't held back, had he? And no wonder Janeway had to get out of there. She wore a badge of her shame right there at her throat. ]

One might even suggest that, as you have the Prime Directive, so the Q must allow free will, and while it might have been implied otherwise in one of those Captain's Logs of yours, I none the less have held to my end of the bargain. What would be the point? Oh, we push the boundaries now and again, but there's no fun in making someone do something. It really does make me wonder whether or not a Q is in control of this place--it just isn't like us.

[ Some other omnipotent beings, maybe, but not the Q. He slides out of his chair at last, approaching the side of Janeway's chair, where he crouches beside her, frowning at the injury. ]

I could make that go away. [ Could. If that was what she really wanted. He wasn't sure it was. Humans were complicated, and women even more so. ]

[ it takes her a moment to realize what he's talking about, having forgotten about the mark altogether. but when she does, it isn't to pull her braid back over it and shoo him away or to hide her face in embarrassment. it's to huff in utter irritation with everything, which includes brandishing (and concealing) a hickey like some cadet that's been sneaking around after hours. ]

Compliments of Jim Kirk. [ not chakotay. he might've left a faint imprint on her, but the dark coloration of the bruise and how sensitive it was to the touch was all james kirk. thank you, gentlemen. she appreciates it. honestly, everything about this day is ridiculous. from the position it's put her in, to q offering to remove a hickey for her. could it possibly get any worse?

she holds up a hand, shakes her head. ] Don't worry about it. Save your tricks for something other than... [ gestures to her neck ] this.

As you wish.

[ He rises back to his feet, but only to perch on the arm of the chair beside her, peering back into the fire. ]

Oh, but you've been through the wringer. There you were, skillfully maintaining your cool, and along comes a plant to undermine all your hard work. I don't envy you your position, Captain.

[ But there was more to it than that, wasn't there? It had reminded her all too blatantly of what she couldn't have, and while there were those among the City's population who seemed to throw themselves headlong into the season (and James T. Kirk was presumably one of them judging by the prickly bruise) she would always stand alone; that was her mantle to bear. Q reached for the hand on her knee, settling his own on top of it. ]

You have the propensity to dwell on things you wouldn't change, even if you wanted to. Today's activities had but one possible outcome, and one only.

[ like the decision to destroy the caretaker's array. that order would haunt her for the rest of her life, but if given the chance to do it over again, she wouldn't change a thing. forever praising herself and beating herself up in one fell swoop, yet all anyone ever sees is a cool, calm, almost icy exterior with no hints towards the turmoil brewing on the inside beneath those glacial layers. ]

Heartbreak and disappointment.

[ kathryn looks down at that hand. if it moves higher, she's likely to break it. she tells herself that she's preventing him from doing that when she turns her hand over under his so that she can properly curl her fingers around his much larger palm, but maybe even those who choose to be lonely need the comfort of another's touch now and then. ]

[ Under other circumstances his words might have been seen as condescending, and he half expected her to bat his hand away and tell him not to talk down to her. He'd have probably deserved it too. But this time his efforts to sympathise didn't go entirely unrewarded, and he squeezes at her hand reassuringly as she turns it into his own. There was that warmth again, the strange feeling of being wanted (not desired, mind you, but his presence accepted, even sought out) that was so particularly surreal to him.

Betraying that sentiment of warmth and trust was outside the realm of his ability. He stayed for a moment longer, speaking confidences. ]

Perhaps it's for the best. You may find you come out stronger for your experience, both of you. Well--yourself and Chakotay, at least. Whether Kirk has the propensity to learn at all is still a matter for great debate.

Starfleet instructs you in making difficult decisions, in what you might do when you come face to face with such challenges. [ A thoughtful pause. Okay, let him approach that from a different direction. ] You asked me several days ago if I would have preferred Picard's being here to Kirk. The truth is that the three of you approach an impossible situation in different ways, and Picard's is by far the least helpful. Kirk doesn't believe in a no-win situation; he uses his bravado to muddle his way through. Picard relies wholly on the might of the Federation and the many extraordinary talents of his handpicked crew. You - you alone - have to dig your heels in and fight your way through to the end, because there's no safety net waiting for you. You're the only one I would trust among you to find your way out of this, and you will.

There may be sacrifices along the way, but you've made them before. You know what decision you have to make, when neither option is palatable; that ultimate test has been laid at your feet too many times to so much as bat an eyelash at it now.

[ touched, kathryn reaches out to cup his cheek with the hand that isn't gripping his. then she does the unexpected— kisses him. a brief, chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. and one that wasn't prompted by the appearance of mistletoe. there's not a sprig in sight. no, that kiss is all her; a thank you and a reassertion of control all in one.

withdrawing, she stands and heads for the ledge again, peering down at the darkening city streets below. ]