Rebel Without A Q!
July 15, 1994
A. Rex


Anna Mithrais, Personal Log:
     I was standing naked in front of the mirror in my quarters. 
It's something I do regularly.  Deanna Troi--that's my
psychologist--says it will help me to bond with my body and stop
living so much in my head. 
     Yeah, right.
     So anyway, here I am standing in front of my mirror.  Full-
length, of course, nothing but the very best from ship's stores
for the one and only Anna Mithrais. What am I seeing?
     You can't be serious!
     Mid-twenties, Caucasian female, dark brown hair (currently
wavy) and hazel-green eyes.  Pudgy short nose, face covered in
light gold freckles. Round cheeks, small mouth.  A unicorn charm,
23-carat gold, hanging from the right earlobe. (People think I'm
Bajoran until they see my nose.)
     The body? Well, that's why Deanna had me in front of the
mirror.  A large-boned but compact frame, short arms, but
shapely, well-muscled legs (thank the ship's gymnasium for that),
elegant feet.  I liked the shape and size of my breasts, but that
was it.  My belly was a little too soft for my liking
(correction: a lot too soft) and my butt was out of the question. 
I remembered discussing this with Deanna at our last session.
     "Exactly what is it you don't like about your body, Anna?" 
Deanna was pouring tea while she said this, dressed in one of
those daring, knock-your-eye-out dresses that were barely
regulation. And she looked, as usual, gorgeous. This was already
depressing me enough.
     "My butt should have its own space-map," I said sourly.  I
was getting really depressed now:  Deanna was sitting opposite
me, sipping her tea demurely, and her lithe, slender legs were
crossed delicately.  I felt like a building next to her.
     "Why do you say these things?"
     "Because they're true, Deanna."  I was getting exasperated
with this line of questioning.
     "Do you really believe that?"
     I got up from the couch and started pacing around the room.
"Look, Deanna--we've had this discussion before, many times!  You
know what happened to me on Cardassia, and you know what it did
to my sexuality, and yes, dammit, I'm rejecting my feminity, and
that probably makes me some kind of sicko!"  I threw up my hands
in exasperation. "I'm probably an awful example of what Starfleet
expects from its' officers."
     Troi was silent for a long moment, her deep, soulful eyes
far-off.  When she spoke, her voice was softer, quieter. "You
know, you remind me of another young woman we had on board--some
time ago.  She also had the misfortune of being--mishandled--at
an earlier juncture in her life.  And like you, she too suffered
from a disjointed sexuality, and was forever rejecting her
femininity.  It was very difficult for her to see her body as
something wonderful and beautiful.  I still don't know if she
ever did come to some kind of peace with herself."
     I turned from my examination of a Betazoid artifact to look
at Troi. "What do you mean?  Did she transfer off the ship or
something?"
     Troi bit her bottom lip. "Tasha was killed some years back."
     I gasped. "Tasha Yar?"
     Troi nodded. "Normally, I wouldn't share that kind of
information about another client.  But you and Tasha are so much
alike,  and since she's gone now, I thought that hearing her
story might help you to see that you are not alone in this
belief."
     I was dumbfounded--actually speechless for a moment, which
is a first for me. "I can't believe you just compared me to Tasha
Yar.  Is that how you actually see me?"
     Again, the Betazoid counsellor nodded. "Yes.  And like
Tasha, you must learn to accept your femininity."
     "And I'm not going to do that until I accept the way I look,
right?"
     Troi rose and put her hand on my shoulder. "It's not as hard
as you think, Anna--give it a chance."



     So here I was, in my quarters, looking in the mirror. It was
making me pretty depressed.  So I grabbed my flannel robe--the
one that covers all the bumps and bulges--and got myself a pot of
tea out of the replicator.
     I tried to read a book-tape, then some music, and even a
hypnotic induction that Deanna had taught me, but nothing worked. 
I couldn't relax.  I was just too keyed-up--angry, really--over
my own reflection in the mirror.  And that was too crazy for
words.
     "Damn, damn, damn--"  I got up and started walking around my
quarters, which wasn't very far; meeting the wall and pacing back
the opposite way.  I could see a reflection of my face in the
clearsteel windows that lined one wall of my quarters.  Yuk....
     (End of recording.)


     ...There she was! There she was, and if she'd only stay in
front of that mirror just a second longer...
     Damn! That damned flannel robe again.  Really, this was
insufferable!
     The being entertaining those thoughts drifted closer to the
port side of the Enterprise, and peered invisibly through the
cleersteel windows.  Anna Mithrais--that was her name--couldn't
see or hear him, which was fortunate.  What was even more
fortunate was this new directive from Troi--a grain of sense, the
being thought, in her usual spate of meaningless psychobabble. 
It was important that Mithrais acquaint herself with her own
skin, her...the being invisibly smiled...cosy curves.  For,
unbeknownst to either Mithrais or Troi, this particular invisible
being knew what had happened to Mithrais on Cardassia...and he
grieved.  He'd been watching her for awhile, this woman--very
intriguing.  She definitely merited further study.  And Q--that
was his name--was very definitely interested in studying her.
     Not, however, a concern of the moment, when the summons
came, as it so often did of late:
     *Q!*
     *Yes?* (Mental eye-rolling)
     *Return!*
     *All right.* (Damn!)


     Mithrais was up early the next morning, even before the
computer's chime had time to wake her.  She had spent a restless
night, hardly sleeping at all, but instead tossing and turning in
the sheets, willing the hours away.
     Her first order of business was to hop into the sonic
shower, to get herself energized and ready for the day.  As a
psychiatric nurse, Mithrais was often called upon in Doctor
Crusher's stead, to tend patients with severe emotional upset. 
She needed to be constantly on her toes, so to speak.  Sickbay
was a very busy place.
     She allowed herself an extra five minutes under the sonics
this morning, to loosen up muscles that were sore from her
sleepless tossing, before switching to water and soaping up. She
was thinking about Counselor Troi's advice of yesterday, and
wondered, with a sort of detached despair, if she would ever
accept her body again.  Somehow, Mithrais doubted it.  Before the
shuttle had crashed, tossing her into the hands of the
Cardassians, she had always maintained a healthy respect for her
body, gave it what it needed to thrive.  That habit had faded,
and try as she might, it was very difficult to re-instate it.
     So this morning, against her own better judgement, she was
going to the gym.  She heard that the ship had a really good
calisthenics program, led by Lieutenant Worf.  Troi, as well as
Beverly Crusher had recommended it as an excellent start to the
day.  'At the very least,' Mithrais thought, 'I'll get this damn
exercise thing out of the way and I won't have to worry about
it.'
     She arrived at the gymnasium as Deanna and Beverly were
beginning their warmup stretches.  "Hello, Anna--care to join
us?"  Beverly beckoned her over to where she and Troi had
commandeered a square of the gym.  "It helps if you warm up
first," Troi offered, effortlessly bending her supple frame into
a variety of postures that Mithrais could only hope to imitate in
her wildest dreams. Beverly Crusher led Mithrais in some gentler
beginning stretches that were designed to limber up the muscles
and get the blood flowing. 
     "How does that feel?"  The pretty doctor probed. 
     Mithrais stretched her arms high overhead and flexed,
feeling the pull in her back, sides, and shoulders.  "Pretty
good, actually," she said, wonderingly.  So far, so good.  Now to
see what Worf had to offer.
     
     Q was hovering near Mithrais, in the gymnasium, and had been
hovering over her for most of the morning since she got up out of
bed.  He liked watching her, but didn't dare risk making himself
visible, at least not at this early juncture. He had decided some
time ago that he would eventually introduce himself to her, but
the timing had to be perfect. He knew mostly everything there was
to know about her.  Including that incident with the Cardassians.
     Q had always considered himself a mentally sturdy sort of
entity--as all of the Q Continuum were.   He was not easily
disturbed, having been 'around the block' a time or two, as the
saying goes.  But when he had percieved the facts of Anna
Mithrais's rape at the hands of those Cardassians, he had been
very disturbed, for a very long time--and saddened.  He would
never have admitted to any kind of altruistic impulses, but upon
discovering these truths about Anna Mithrais, he was taken with a
sudden, deep need--almost an obsession--to so something for her.
     That had been a problem, figuring out what, exactly, he
could do.  He would have to ensure it would be something she
wanted, something she would appreciate, yet it had to be
something that would not attract the interest of Picard or any
other of the various dullards that roamed the ship at will.  (It
wouldn't do, Q thought, for Picard to think he'd found a
vulnerability.) The best way to find out what she wanted, Q
thought, was to observe her for a while.
     Normally, he had a fixed idea about the humanoid races,
which differed very little from person to person.  Most he held
in little or no regard, some amused him, and some humans scared
him deeply.  But Anna Mithrais affected him differently, since
the first time Q had--without her knowledge--encountered her. 
     Just look at her--her round, earnest face with those big
green eyes.... Q smiled unseen.  'I want to cherish you,' he
whispered to the air, and still unseen, drifted back to the
Continuum to fashion a plan.  

     (Anna Mithrais's Personal Log) God! What a day!  I cannot
believe that dippy Ensign Naylor from Botany was in to Sickbay
again today!  I think she just does it so Doctor S'Task will
notice her--everybody knows she has a 'thing' for Vulcans.  Oh,
she's such a bitch!  Asking me if I'd mind doing her routine
physical over again, since she was sure I'd missed something the
last time.  I was miffed, I can tell you!  Too bad she didn't
have a big old brain tumour. Maybe I'd miss it on purpose, just
to get rid of her!
     (sound of someone sighing) That's not very nice, though, is
it?  And I'm supposed to be a nurse, the model of compassion.  I
don't know what's gotten into me lately.  I'm not sleeping very
well, either--I keep waking up around the same time every night. 
Probably that Cardassian thing again.  I'll never get over that!
I guess I should see Troi about it, but I really don't think
that's helping much either.  I just don't know.
     Lieut. Deski is getting married!  She told us all this
morning at work.  Of course, I'm happy for her--she and Doug will
be very happy, I know. I just wonder if I'm going to be alone for
the rest of my life.  God! Maybe if I make a wish, some
benevolent deity will send me a tall dark and handsome!
Ha! I wish!--not in my wildest dreams.  
(end of recording.)

     Anna Mithrais turned from her personal log recorder, with an
expression of bewilderment.  She probably was really tired, she
reasoned, but she could have sworn that she felt someone standing
behind her as she recorded her log entry.  But that was
ridiculous!
     She got up from her desk and went into her bedroom to
change.
     There was a single, long-stemmed pink rose on her bed.
     "Huh?"
     Upon hearing this little exclamation of surprise, the
invisible Q grinned.
     Mithrais reached out and picked up the rose, inhaling its'
delicate fragrance. Beautiful.... But where did it come from?
Wait--there was a note attached:
     "I have watched you and know that you are the soul of
beauty. Please accept this as a small token of my infinite regard
for you."  It wasn't signed, so Mithrais had no idea where it had
come from.
     But she felt a surge of pleasure, nonetheless, and a soft
blush suffused her smooth cheeks. Impulsively, she glanced around
her quarters to reassure herself that there really was nobody
there.  She couldn't believe that this rose had just been
deposited here.  Who in space would give her a rose?  She walked
quickly to the door of her quarters, noted that the privacy lock
was still engaged. "Computer--has anyone other than myself been
in my quarters in the past twelve hours?"
     "No one other than Commander Anna Mithrais has entered these
quarters in the past twelve hours," the computer recited
dutifully.
     "Hmm...that's odd."  Mithrais held the rose to her cheek,
stroking her face with its soft petals. "Where did this come
from?"
     *You have no idea, do you, my dear?*  This thought from Q,
hovering invisibly nearby. 
     Mithrais fetched a bud vase and stood the flower near her
bed, where she could look at it. "Probably just a joke," she
reasoned, and turned out the lights.

     Counsellor Deanna Troi was in her quarters preparing for bed
when the doorchime sounded.  She was surprised that someone would
be calling at this hour--it was 2300 hours, after all. "Who is
it?" she called suspiciously.
     "Counsellor Troi, I have need of your assistance in a
most...delicate matter."
     Wait a minute!  She knew that voice!  Troi went to the door
and opened, and her suspicions stood there in a Starfleet
Captain's uniform. "Q!"
     The man whom Troi had addressed as Q offered a courtly bow. 
"Please forgive me, my dear lady, for disturbing you at so late
an hour.  I know how you humanoids require sleep.  But I wish to
avail of your professional opinion, if I might?"
     Troi blinked. "You need psychotherapy?"  And to herself she
thought, 'You need psychotherapy!' 
     Q pursed his lips, an expression of deep amusement. "Oh, of
course not--nothing of the sort. May I come in?"
     Troi stood back and allowed him to enter.
     The man called Q was tall, and slim, but had broad
shoulders, his hair was dark and wavy, with a touch of grey at
the temples, and his face was narrow, his cheekbones well-
defined.  His eyes were dark and fringed with long lashes.  He
strolled around Troi's quarters, picking things up and examining
them.  Although Troi couldn't read him, she had known Q long
enough now to sense that he wanted a favour from her.
     "Of course, you're absolutely correct in that, my dear
Counsellor."  He was reading her mind. "I would like you to
introduce me to Anna Mithrais."
     Troi poured herself some Y'ridian tea, took her time in
replying. "Is this some kind of joke?"
     Q dismissed this with a gesture. "Oh, I assure you, I have
nothing but her best interests at heart. I have been observing
her for some time now.  For the most part, the activity has left
me..."  Q paused, his dark gaze turning inward for a moment.
"...saddened."  He fixed Troi with a look. "I think she needs
some enthusiastic male companionship in her life! The woman
practically leads a convent existence!"
     Troi's finely-etched brows came together in the center.  "Am
I to understand you want to do something nice for Anna?"
     Q nodded.
     "The last person you did something 'nice' for was the
captain--you landed him, his friend Vash, and the rest of the
bridge crew in tenth-century England!"  Troi came closer and
peered up at him. "Is that the kind of thing you have in mind for
her?"
     Q frowned.  Trust Troi to bring that up. "Not at all--and
might I add, I returned your precious captain to the ship
unscathed!"
     Troi snorted. "And took off with Vash."
     Q was beginning to get mildly annoyed--not a good thing on
any day. "I offered her a chance to travel throughout the galaxy
with me, and she accepted it. It was an arrangement that was
mutually satisfying."
     "I'll bet it was."
     Q's face darkened. "Woman--do not toy with me! You forget
that I have the means to deprive you of just about anything you
possess, including your life!"
     Troi was the soul of calm as she faced down Q's bluster. "I
realise that."  She took a deep breath, decided to hear him out,
and indicated the couch behind her. "Please, won't you have a
seat?"
     Q yanked on the front of his uniform tunic, and sat
wordlessly.  Troi poured some of the Y'ridian tea into a second
cup, passed it to him. 
     "Let's just put aside for a moment all the other encounters
we've had with you, Q, and pretend--for argument's sake--that you
are sincere in this."  Troi adopted a relaxed pose.  "Why are you
interested in Anna Mithrais? The truth, for a change, please!"
     Q took a sip of the tea, made a face. "Ugh--what is this
stuff?"  He laid the cup down on the low table in front of him,
turned to face Troi.  "I feel...badly for her.  I realize that
she has had an unfortunate life.  What makes it even more
unfortunate is that she has so many exemplary qualities, which I
wouldn't expect to find in a human.  And she doesn't see them! 
She has such an intense dislike for herself.  Her life is so
empty!  It bothers me, like a nagging ache, it bothers me!  I've
been watching her, and I feel that a little nonthreatening male
companionship would do her the world of good!"
     Troi's tone was dry when she spoke. "And you, of course, are
the ideal candidate to spice up Anna's life?"
     "I believe so."
     Troi got up and began pacing the length of the small living
room, something she did when she was thinking. "Am I to
understand that you consider yourself a nonthreatening male
figure?"
     Q nodded.
     "Forgive me if this upsets you, Q, but you are possibly the
farthest thing from nonthreatening that has ever existed!  You're
the most dangerous person I know!"
     Q affected a coy face. "Really, Counsellor, there's no need
for such flattery.  You embarrass me!"
     "You are the one individual in this universe who is capable
of destroying Anna Mithrais, and you propose to insert yourself
into her life as her devoted swain?"  Troi threw her hands in the
air. "Forgive me if I find that a little hard to swallow."
     Q stood up.  "Do you really?"  He made a small gesture, and
Troi's expression changed.  The hostility on her face simply slid
off.  She walked over to where Q was standing, slid her hands up
his arms.
     "I never realised how handsome you are," the beautiful
Betazoid murmured.  "How strong, and capable."  She leaned into
him and slipped her fingers through his thick, dark hair. "Kiss
me..."
     Q snapped his fingers, and Troi came to herself to realise
where she was and what she was about to do. She disentangled
herself with a gasp and pushed Q away from her. "What did you do
to me?"
     "Merely a demonstration, Counsellor."
     Troi's face bore an expression of disgust. "Did I...kiss
you?"
     Q vacillated for a moment, wondering if the truth would be
the most useful in this situation. "No, you did not--I prevented
it.  But you can see, Counsellor, that you yourself reacted to
me.  Is it so hard to believe that I could be attractive--and
attracted to--someone like Anna Mithrais?"
     "Not if you're going to use your powers to coerce her, of
course not!"  Troi was horrified: was that what Q had in mind? 
Because if it was, she would use every means at her disposal to
deflect his interest in Anna.  There was no way in space that she
would allow her friend to be victimized again.
     "I'm not going to harm her, Deanna."  Q was sitting opposite
her on the couch again. "I only want to give her something she
has never had: someone who cares for her, and wants to make her
happy."  To Troi's astonishment, his dark eyes filled with tears. 
"She is one of the most worthy humans I have ever met."
     "You're sincere, aren't you?"  For the first time ever,
Troi's empathic sense was getting a glimmering of Q's vast and
ancient consciousness.  "You really mean to help her, be her
friend."
     Q nodded. "Yes."
     "All right then--there's a ship-wide party this Saturday
evening in Ten Forward.  If you attend, I'll be there with Anna
and I'll introduce you."
     Q rose to his feet.  "I thank you, Counsellor, from the
bottom of my considerable heart!"  The doors swished open and
shut, and he was gone.
     Troi's heart was hammering in her ears, and she was aware
that her skin was humming with a definite excitement.  He hadn't
kissed her, but part of her almost wished he had.  It was very
odd, the way he had affected her, but not beyond his considerable
powers, Troi supposed.  Still, the very idea that she could be
attracted to Q was one that needed further study. 

     Anna Mithrais was charting some plasma growth rates in
Sickbay when her communicator beeped.  She looked up in
irritation at having been distracted. "Troi to Commander
Mithrais."
     "Mithrais here--go ahead, Deanna."
     "I was wondering if you could stop by my office after your
duty shift ends.  There's something I wish to discuss."
     Mithrais was puzzled.  "Of course, Deanna--I'm done here in
about an hour."
     "Fine, I'll see you then."
     Hmm, that was odd, Mithrais mused.  She couldn't fathom why
Troi would want to see her.  Surely there wasn't something
dreadfully wrong with her, some mental anomaly that Troi's
earlier examinations had overlooked?  Mithrais pushed this
threatening thought away.  That wouldn't be it, anyway.  She was
a psychiatric nurse and would certainly pick up on any aberrant
behavior in herself.  
     "How's it going?"  Beverly Crusher was standing behind
Mithrais.  "Getting through it?"
     "Huh?"  Mithrais looked up, still lost in her thoughts. "Oh!
Doctor Crusher--I'm sorry, I didn't see you there.  Ah, yeah,
these samples are almost finished."  She slid a tray of petri
dishes into a covered bin and snapped the lid shut. 
     "Was that Deanna I heard calling you just now?"  Crusher was
entering some computer files into the diagnostic panels that were
mounted on the wall above Mithrais's workstation.
     "Yes--she asked if I'd stop by her office when my duty shift
is over."  Mithrais finished charting the rest of the samples and
stored them in a bin with the others.  "There--all done."
     Crusher smiled down at her from her standing position near
the wall.  "Listen, Anna: you've put in a good cycle's worth of
work.  Why don't you knock off early?  There's nothing here that
Alyssa and I can't handle." 
     "Really?"  Mithrais felt self-conscious.  Perhaps Crusher
was letting her go early because she thought there might be
something really wrong that Troi wanted to discuss.  "Counsellor
Troi didn't say it was urgent or anything."
     "Don't be ridiculous.  There's hardly enough work here for
all of us--and you've earned a little break.  Go ahead--it's the
end of cycle for you anyway."
     Mithrais got up, tidied her duty station and put her
diagnostic padds and her medical tricorder in the drawer. "All
right--you don't have to tell me twice!"  She patted Crusher's
arm amiably as she got up. "Thanks, Doc! I owe you one."
     "Seeya!"  Crusher turned back to her diagnostics.

     Troi was tending her office plants when Mithrais stopped by. 
She stepped inside at Troi's summons and took a seat on the couch
while Troi finished picking the dead leaves off a philadendron. 
When the counsellor had put away the watering container, she
poured some tea and took a seat opposite Mithrais.  "I suppose
you're wondering why I called you here?" Troi's level gaze
revealed nothing.
     Mithrais nodded.  "Kind of. I'm not...you know, going crazy
or anything, am I?"  She felt inexplicably foolish, exposed.
     Troi grinned. "Not at all. I'm sort of acting in the
capacity of matchmaker, you could say.  There's a gentleman of my
acquaintence who is very interested in meeting you."
     Mithrais felt her face burning. "Is there something wrong
with that?"  Troi asked, concerned. 
     "Ah, no!  It's just that...."  Mithrais ducked her head,
away from Troi's incisive gaze.
     "Anna?  What is it?  You can tell me."
     Mithrais fluttered one hand in the air in front of her, a
gesture of frustration.  "Somebody gave me a rose."
     Troi's brows knit. "Somebody gave you a rose," she repeated.
"Well, that was nice of them."
     "I think so too, except I have no idea who did it!  I was
recording my personal log the other evening in my quarters, and
when I came out into my bedroom, there was a pink rose across the
pillow.  I asked the computer if anyone had entered my quarters,
and the response was negative."
     "Hmmm...that's very interesting.  Do you have any male
admirers?"
     Mithrais got up, began pacing the floor of Deanna's tidy
office. "Yeah, right!"  She said, bitterly, her voice limned with
pain.  Troi felt the throb of perceived emotions beginning in her
temples, was shocked at the pain that Mithrais was obviously
experiencing.  "Who in space would be interesed in me, Deanna? 
Look at me, for gods sake! I'm big and clunky and stupid-looking,
and I have awful hair and freckles!  It's not as if I look like
you, or Doctor Crusher, or Alyssa!"  Mithrais bit her bottom lip
savagely. "Or even Gretchen Naylor! I'm ugly!"
     Troi was becoming very distressed by what she was hearing,
and feeling. "Hey, wait just a minute!"  She got up out of her
chair and put an arm around Mithrais's shoulders. "Anna! I had no
idea you felt this badly about yourself!  The last time we spoke,
you indicated to me that you were feeling better, and my empathic
senses also percieved this to be true.  Has something occured to
change your opinion of yourself?"
     "Whoever left that rose there probably did it as a nasty
joke!"
     "What makes you say that?"
     Mithrais wrenched free of Troi's grip.  "When I was a
teenager, I wasn't like the other girls!  I was big and gawky and
clumsy.  I never had any dates or any boyfriends.  There wasn't a
single boy in my school who would even bother with me.  The night
before our graduation, my father signed for a package at the
front door."  Mithrais was pacing again, her arms clasped about
herself for support.  Troi watched her keenly, interested in this
new Anna Mithrais that was being revealed to her. "It was a long,
white box, and my father naturally thought it was flowers.  Oh,
he was so happy for me!  I hadn't seen him smile like that since
Mum died! He handed me this box, and he was like a little kid, he
couldn't wait for me to open it up."
     Troi closed her eyes briefly. "What was in it, Anna?"  She
tried to keep her voice carefully neutral.
     Mithrais turned to Troi, her eyes cold and hard. "It was a
dead cat."  She emitted a bitter, mirthless laugh.  "With a note-
-I guess the poor thing had been hit by a groundcar or something. 
The note said, 'Roses are red, violets are blue, here's someone
to go to the prom with you!'"
     Troi shuddered. "Oh, Anna, that's positively macabre.  Not
to mention cruel."
     Mithrais hid her face in her hands. "I bet somebody thought
it would be funny to put a rose in my quarters.  Whoever did it
is probably laughing his head off!"
     There was a brilliant flash of light,(that strangely didn't
alarm Troi) and when Mithrais looked up, a man in a Starfleet
Captain's uniform was standing in Troi's office.  
     Troi immediately rose to the occasion. She stood up and took
the tall man by the elbow, led him over to where Mithrais was now
seated, and sat him down beside her.
     Mithrais looked at him for a long moment, her efficient
nurse's mind taking in every detail of his face. His wavy, dark
brown hair was tinged with grey at the temples, framing a
serious, narrow face.  His mouth was wide, with a full lower lip,
his eyes dark and intense.  Mithrais thought he was quite
handsome.
     "Anna Mithrais, I would like you to meet Q," Troi said.  "Q,
this is Anna Mithrais."
     Q leaned forward and took her hand, and he had eyes only for
her. "Hello, my dear," he said, and kissed her knuckles
gallantly. "I'm sorry that my token of affection distressed you
so."
     "You sent that rose?"  Mithrais was beyond shock.  This had
to be an exquisite dream.
     "I did indeed.  You see, my dearest Anna, I have been
watching you for some time now, and I must confess that I'm very
intrigued with you."
     Mithrais opened her dry mouth. "But--you're a Captain!"
     The man named Q laughed, revealing perfect white teeth and
charming dimples. "Not at all--this is merely an affection, in
order that I may blend in!"
     "Who are you?"
     Q stood up, still holding her hand. "Counsellor, may I?"
     Troi frowned. "May you what?"
     "Take Commander Mithrais on a little trip?"
     Mithrais looked from Troi to Q. "What's this?  I don't
understand what's going on here!"
     "You don't need to understand, my precious--just believe!"
     In a burst of light, Mithrais vanished with Q.

     Seconds later, when Mithrais rematerialized in Troi's
office, she was alone.  Troi was naturally curious. "Well?"
     For the first time in weeks, Mithrais was smiling. "Do you
know who he is?  Do you know where he comes from?  What he is?"
     "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."
     "And he's interested in me?"
     Troi nodded. "He is indeed."
     A look of panic crossed Mithrais's face.  "Oh, God!  He said
he'll come for me tonight--he's going to take me to some place
called Tau-Ti for the Festival of Masques. What am I going to
wear?"
     And she darted out of Troi's office.


     Mithrais was in her quarters, and in a quandry.  The man--
entity--that she had met earlier had told her that he would
return for her at ship's time 1900 hours.  It was 1800 now, and
so far, she had managed only to get herself showered.  Q had
instructed her not to eat anything, as "We will dine elegantly,
my dear, I assure you."  The problem was finding something to
wear.  Her own wardrobe was scanty, there not being any occasion
for fancy clothing, and all she had were her uniforms and some
casual off-duty clothing that was not at all suitable. 
     In desperation, Mithrais tagged her communicator. "Mithrais
to Counselor Troi."
     The Betazoid counsellor's cheerful voice responded. "Troi
here."
     Mithrais sagged with relief. "Deanna, I'm in big trouble--I
haven't got a thing to wear!"
     "I'll be right there."  Troi closed the channel.
     Mithrais tagged her communicator again. "Mithrais to Doctor
Crusher."
     "Crusher here."  Beverly sounded relaxed for once; she must
have recently gone off-duty, Mithrais thought.
     "Doctor, I've just asked Troi for her help, and now I'm
asking you."
     "Anything, Anna, you know that."
     "Q is taking me out in an hour and I need serious help with
my wardrobe and my hair! Are you in?"
     Beverly giggled. "It'll be just like an old-fashioned
slumber party! I'll be right there, Anna!"
     Troi met Crusher in the turbolift.  "Are you headed for Anna
Mithrais's quarters?"  Troi asked, smiling.
     "You got the summons too, I gather?"  Crusher raised a
pretty copper eyebrow.
     Troi nodded. "Can you imagine though, Beverly--going on a
date with Q?"
     "Not really."  The doctor's green eyes were thoughtful.  "I
would imagine though, that he is very well versed in the courtly
graces."
     Troi suppressed a wanton frisson of excitement. "Among other
things."
     Crusher raised the eyebrow again. "Like what?"  When Troi
didn't answer, she peered closer at Troi. "Is there something you
aren't telling me, Deanna?"
     Troi sighed, rolled her eyes. "Q was in my quarters the
other night"
     Crusher's eyes got big and round. "Q?!  Are you serious? 
What did he want?"
     "He wanted to talk to me about Anna Mithrais.  You know,
Beverly, for this once I think he might be sincere.  He seems
genuinely concerned for Anna, wants to help her."
     "I don't know--is this the same Q we're talking about?" 
Crusher sounded unconvinced.
     "He almost kissed me--I mean, I almost let him."
     "Deanna!  What kind of talk was this?"
     Troi paused as the turbolift stopped to let them out. "You
do have to admit one thing, though, Beverly--when Q takes human
form, he is quite an attractive male."
     Crusher giggled. "Yeah--an attractive male what?"
     The two women went into Anna Mithrais's quarters.

     Forty-five minutes later, Mithrais was standing alone in
front of the mirror in her quarters.  Troi and Crusher had gone
to Ten-Forward for a Timarin Frost, and she had a few minutes to
review the progress that the three of them had made.
     Her dark, bobbed hair was gathered into a soft topknot,
coutesy of Doctor Crusher, and fastened with a jeweled pin that
Troi had loaned her.  Feathery tendrils escaped and brushed her
cheeks.  Her green eyes were lightly touched with golden shadow,
lined in black, and accented with three coats of Troi's black
mascara.  Her mouth was dyed a wine-blushed taupe with an
Andorian colorstick that Crusher had bought and never used.  She
made a gift of it to Anna.
     Troi and Crusher had both conspired with ship's stores for
the outfit:  a tall, cool column of Vulcan spidersilk in bottle
green, embroidered with opalescent inserts of Aldebaran night-
stones, which shimmered as she moved. Troi had ordered a pair of
flat sandals which laced up to her knees: "If he takes your dress
off, this will get him for sure," she had giggled.  Anna had
blushed deep scarlet in spite of herself.  She knew that both
Troi and Crusher had had many lovers, and that both women
indulged in a healthy sexuality that they were comfortable with. 
She was much more inhibited.  
     Still, she had to admit that she looked good.  "That dress
should impress even Q," Beverly said.
     Mithrais heard the door chime from the other room. "Damn!" 
That couldn't be him, already?  
     "You know I wouldn't ring the bell."  
     Mithrais turned at the sound of Q's voice.  He was standing
behind her, lounging against the wall of her bedroom, arms
crossed nonchalantly on his chest.  His gaze slowly traversed her
entire being, his face unreadable.  His dark eyes were intense.
     "I didn't hear you come in."  Mithrais's mouth felt as dry
as cotton.  "I've been expecting you, though."  She felt a
frisson of excitement pass through her like a wave as he
straightened up and walked slowly towards her. 
     "Hello my dear."  He was standing in front of her, and their
faces were barely a hand-span apart.  His brown eyes held hers in
a long, hungry gaze.  Then his dark eyes fluttered closed as he
took her chin in his hand and pressed a kiss onto her carefully-
dyed lips.
     Mithrais felt the ship dip and spin around her, and she
clutched at Q's arm to avoid falling.  His mouth was only
touching hers for a second or two, but that brief contact was
enough to send her reeling.  
     "You look absolutely wonderful."  His warm breath touched
her ear as he bent to whisper.  "I hope that this evening will
be..."  And his dark eyes twinkled, "...magical!"
     "Let me look at you--you've admired me, after all." 
Mithrais stood a little ways back and surveyed her companion
carefully.  She knew that tonight was very special, the only time
in her entire life that a man had treated her like a lady. 
Usually they overlooked her entirely, passing over her sturdy,
voluptuous frame for the more glamourous, slender Starfleet
women.
     "I only think of you."  He had read her mind, and given her
the only answer that she wanted to hear. 
     Mithrais was busy looking at him.  For this evening, he had
clothed himself (out of deference to her, a Human woman) in a
formal tailcoat with a starched white shirt and white tie.  His
black trousers were pressed to a knife-edged crease, his shoes
like mirrors.  His dark hair was combed straight back.  Mithrais
could detect a subtle scent underlying his warmth, something
spicy and exotic that both excited and reassured.  His fine,
long-fingered hands were bare except for an interesting silver
ring on the index finger of his right hand. She took her courage
in both hands and ran her palms up the sleeves of his tailcoat. 
"Cashmere," she murmured. "This is lovely--you look wonderful,
Q."
     In response, he took her into his arms and kissed her:  a
gentle, sensuous kiss that injected her being with a taste of his
power, yet refreshed and delighted her like falling rain. 
Reflexively, Mithrais wrapped her body into him and felt not fear
or apprehension, but a deep calm, and a sense of belonging.  She
could feel his unhuman power thrumming along under his skin, knew
it was part of what made him uniquely Q. She shuddered in
anticipation as he paused and then kissed her a second time, his
beautiful hands holding her face, his fingers splayed against her
throat.  
     When Q pulled away, his composure had shifted just a little. 
He experienced intense physical desire, throbbing around the
edges of his mind.  But that would have to wait....
     "Shall we?"  He extended his bent elbow and Mithrais took
it.  They disappeared.

     The Festival of Masques on Tau-Ti was something renowned
throughout the galaxy.  It was analogous to the ancient Earth
custom of Hallowe'en or All Souls' Night.  
     For the occasion, the city hall of the largest city on
Mauwgri, Tau-Ti's largest continent, had been pressed into
service.  When Mithrais and Q sparkled into existence near the
front entrance, people were already milling about inside the
front door, dressed in all manner of holiday finery.  The
inhabitants of Mauwgri were humanoid in appearence, with pale
golden skin that on first glance reminded Mithrais of Commander
Data.  The Tau-Titians all had incredible emerald-green eyes,
that seemed to shift and change with their moods.  Their long,
slender arms ended in six elegant fingers.
     Mithrais turned excitedly to Q.  "My God!  This is
marvelous!  Oh, look--" She turned to the crowd before them.
"they're all putting masks on!"
     "And so shall we, my dear."  Q held out his hand and in his
palm lay a jeweled green mask decorated with peacock feathers. 
He handed it to Mithrais, who dutifully fastened it around her
face so that only her quizzical green eyes showed. 
     "What about you?"  She turned to inquire of Q.
     Q again held out his hand, and this time there materialized
a white mask, half a mask, really, that curved in a jagged line
down the face.  It was entirely without ornament or decoration,
simply and elegantly white.  Q slipped it on.  
     Mithrais gasped in pleasure. "Oh!  The Phantom of the Opera-
-how did you know I love that story?"
     Q's mouth smiled at the edge of the mask. "How could you not
love that story?  The redeeming power of love, after all."  He
fashioned a long, black opera cloak out of nothing and slung it
around his shoulders.  "Is this adequate?"
     Mithrais nodded wordlessly, and they went inside.

     Several hours later, as the festival was winding down, Q
gently drew Mithrais out onto the balcony and removed his mask. 
His dark eyes were unusually intense, and she knew that he had
something important to say to her.  She stayed silent and allowed
him to continue, although every nerve in her body was thrumming
in anticipation.

     "I have been watching you for some time now, and I'm
convinced not only of your inherent loveliness, but also your
innate worthiness.  You are one of the purest souls I have ever
met."
     Mithrais, abashed at this declaration, made to speak, but Q
put a finger gently to her lips.
     "Ever since I first encountered you, I have been drawn to
you in ways that even I, with my vast intelligence, could not
comprehend.  You...excite something in me, and that pleases me."
     Mithrais smiled. "What is it you're trying to say, Q?"  She
reached up and ran her thumb along his full lower lip.
     "I would like to share love with you--that is, if you are
willing."  He bent and kissed her gently, his mouth roaming over
hers hungrily.  Mithrais clung to him, wanting nothing more than
to stay safely in his embrace forever.  She knew that nothing
could harm her as long as she was with him.
     "I would like that very much," she told him. 
     "Then, consider it done."
     And with a snap of his fingers, they vanished.

			 THE END