Disclaimer time once again!  One hundred and forty-sixth 
verse same as the first . . . everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount 
does not either!

This story involves sex between two men (sort of), aka: 
slash.  If that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it 
is, then don't read it!  (simple, ain't it??)  Feedback 
is *very* much appreciated and always answered.  Flames
will be passed around to friends and chuckled over.  :)

First, the 'P' does *not* stand for 'Picard', but for 
'Paris', 'K? 

Second, this is the sequel to 'Scratched' in the 
'Q-Ball' series.  So, you might want to read that one, 
first.

'Break' by Amirin <groh@iquest.net>


***********************************************


The warmth was barely noticeable in Tom's current state 
of exhaustion, but he burrowed into it nonetheless.  A 
hand running slowly over his arm brought a few more of 
his brain cells back on-line, but it was the tongue 
curling around his ear that truly woke him up.  For a 
brief instant, he wondered what the hell Harry was 
doing, until a low chuckle made him realize who was 
really sharing his bed.

"Miss me?" Q asked impishly, batting his eyes at Tom, 
who laughed quietly as he rolled over to face him.

"Horribly so," Tom sighed, getting comfortable around 
Q's toasty frame. 

"If you try and get much closer, you'll end up *behind* 
me," Q groused fondly, sending Tom off into snorts of 
laughter again.

Tom yawned, but a snap from Q's fingers made him 
completely awake and alert.

"What time is it?" Tom asked softly, eyes closing as Q 
ran a hand over his hair.

"You're off the clock, so to speak," Q answered lightly.

Tom's eyes came open as he looked up at the entity.  
"The ship's still moving," he frowned at the stars 
streaking by outside the window.

Q's hand came up to smooth away the worry lines.  
"Welllll, yes," he admitted reluctantly.  "But, *I'm* 
doing it, your ship and crew are *completely* safe," he 
said nonchalantly.

Tom groaned.  "The Captain is going to notice that the 
ship has suddenly jumped from one location to another, 
from her point of view," Tom reminded him.

"I'll take *full* responsibility for it," Q assured him, 
before shrugging at Tom's meaningful look.  "Well, as 
much as I take responsibility for *anything*," he 
amended, grinning rakishly as Tom rolled his eyes. 
"She'll be grateful, you know," Q began, expounding for 
all he was worth.  "Voyager is traveling at a 
*remarkable* velocity, for a rickety barge," he smiled
soothingly when Tom glared at him.  "I spend a little 
time with you while your ship and crew travel another 
year closer to home," he said as if it made no 
difference to him at all, but he was watching Tom 
closely.

"What are you up to, Q?" Tom asked quietly.

"My, aren't *we* suspicious," Q tried to distract Tom, 
before the man rolled on top of him and kissed him 
thoroughly.  Now *Q* was distracted.

"Hardly fair," the entity said breathlessly.  "I 
*taught* you that.  How *dare* you use it against me."   
He tried to get indignant, but Tom wasn't having any of 
it.

"Save it, Q," Tom snapped back softly.  "What the hell 
is going on?"

"I've come to make you an *offer*, one you really 
*should* consider," Q began, eyes flicking from Tom's to 
the ceiling, the wall, the sheets, everywhere.  "If not 
for yourself, than for poor *Harry*," Q said, becoming
annoyed with the flutter in his midsection as he 
received the full impact of Tom's glare.

"What are you talking about?" Tom asked dangerously.

"Dear Harry is so *worried* about something happening to 
you again, this would set his mind at *ease*," Q tried 
to weasel.  Tom wasn't entirely sure if 'weaseling' was 
a verb, but he was willing to bet that it was for a Q.

"What would set his mind at ease?" Tom asked, playing 
along.

"Why, you becoming Q, naturally," Q said with deliberate
off-handedness.

"Oh, *naturally*," Tom groaned, throwing himself off Q 
to lay on his back once more, shaking his head.  "This 
has *nothing* to do with Harry," he continued in a low 
growl, growing angrier by the minute.

"He'd never have to worry about letting you out of his 
sight," Q said quietly, lacing his fingers through 
Tom's.  "He'd never have to live with the guilt if 
anything happened to you, again.  He'd never have to
wonder from one instant to the next whether you were all 
right.  He'd never have to agonize about being too late 
to save you..." he trailed off as Tom's eyes zeroed in 
on his own with startling severity.

"This isn't about Harry at all, is it?" Tom asked, 
squeezing Q's hand. "It's about *you*," he said with 
slowly dawning comprehension.

"Don't be *absurd*," Q waved Tom's statement away with a 
wave of his hand.  "If anything happened to you, I'd 
only have to move time the *slightest* bit and you'd be 
*back* amongst the living, yet *again*," he replied 
drolly, but still wouldn't meet Tom's gaze until a hand 
on his chin forced the issue.

"Truth, Q," Tom requested softly.  "What's really going 
on?"

Q snarled quietly to himself.  Damn the man.  He should 
have known his attempts at prevarication wouldn't work 
with Tom; the man had spent most of his life doing the 
same thing.  Maybe he should simply reverse time and 
start all over again.  Oh, the hell with it.

"You're *mortal*," he said, like it was being dragged 
from him by force.  Like that explained everything.

Tom looked at him carefully.  Maybe it did.

"And you don't want me to be," Tom said slowly.  "Q, you 
can let me live to a ripe old age, snag me again at the 
moment of my death, bring me back to this point in time, 
and make me a Q then.  Why the rush?" Tom asked.

"Not *everyone* in the Continuum is exactly my *friend*, 
my *chum*, my *comrade*, my *bosom buddy*..." he trailed 
off as Tom waved at him to get on with it.  "If they 
knew of my interest in you and believed it to be...
*important* to me, they could utterly *erase* your 
existence, and all evidence of it, from the universe.  
This one, or any *other*," Q admitted somberly.  "I 
don't know if I would *ever* be able to find you again.
*But*," he said, with some excitement, "if you were *Q*, 
they couldn't touch a hair on your head."

"Tom," Q said slowly, with a seriousness the man had 
never seen before, "this is not an offer I make 
lightly."  The seriousness was gone; Q recovered 
quickly.  "Not everyone has what it *takes* to be Q," he
bragged, looking at his fingernails.

"Q," Tom began gently, "I would make a *lousy* Q.  
*Listen* to me," he cut off Q's attempt at interruption.  
"It would be great for the first few millennia, it 
would.  I *know* it would.  You'd be showing me around
the universes, maybe helping me create a couple of my 
own, it would be wonderful.  But what would happen when 
I got bored?  And you *know* it would happen, ten or 
eleven millennia down the road, when I'd done 
everything, been everything, seen everything.  Then, 
what?  Huh?" Tom asked, trying to appeal to logic and 
good sense.  

Q just smiled proudly.  "Oh," he sighed, bringing Tom's 
hand up to kiss the back of it.  "You even *think* like 
a Q."

"Q," Tom said warningly, before the entity held up his 
other hand, staying his next comment.

"Just think about it.  *Please*, Tom," Q wheedled.  
"Just give it the *briefest* consideration, the merest 
*particle* of thought.  Don't come to any *hasty* 
decisions tonight.  Give me your answer later.  Agreed?"

Tom sighed, deciding to humor him.  "Agreed.  But no 
snapping me into the Continuum unless I give the word, 
got it?" he glared at Q's butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-
mouth look, before the entity grumbled.

"Oh, all *right*," Q acquiesced reluctantly, scowling.  
It just made Tom grin at him, though, and he couldn't 
hold it for long.  He sighed, turning serious again.

"Think *carefully*," he said quietly.

Tom nodded, dropping a light kiss on his lips.  "I will, 
I promise.  I gotta admit," he said with due honesty, 
"it *is* tempting.  But let me think about it."

Q nodded, sighing as warm lips touched his own again.  
Dimly, he felt an awareness of a particularly nasty 
nightmare as it invaded Harry's sleep and brushed it 
away, leaving the ensign in peaceful slumber once more.  
He realized the man was on the other side of the wall 
and grimaced slightly;  Harry's emotional state was 
creating an unpleasant taste in his mind.  He didn't 
want to interfere and knew Tom would be suspicious if 
the ensign were perfectly fine in the morning, his 
psyche intact and healed, his emotional stability 
unfrayed, but the nightmare served no purpose; Tom was
alive and well.  It was pointless to let Harry suffer 
needlessly.  

He silenced the part of himself that voiced the fact 
that he didn't want anything distracting Tom from him 
and his request, and returned his attention to the man 
in his arms, putting both Harry and his own powers on
a distant back burner.  He'd never had to do this 
before, but Tom was a living human again and what they'd 
done previously, sexually, would likely kill him in his 
current, mortal state.

He sighed with delight when Tom's mouth found his neck.  
He felt even *more* delighted when he realized the man 
didn't sleep in anything.  Since Tom had never just 
slept with him, he'd never known.

"How long has it been since you had sex with a human?" 
Tom asked, the breathless huskiness of his voice sending 
a spear of arousal straight to Q's cock.

"Relatively speaking, not that long," Q replied before 
groaning as Tom's hand found his hardness.  "You sure 
you want to do this the old-fashioned way?" he enquired, 
kissing Tom back, nibbling on his lower lip.

"Do you know how long it's been for me since I was with 
a man?" Tom asked, answering Q's question, while running 
his tongue along the entity's collarbone before nipping 
his way down his chest.

"Relatively speaking, not that long," Q repeated 
teasingly, making Tom growl at him.  "Very well, if 
you...oh, yes...insist.  Since it seems...oh, *Tom*...
that I can deny you *nothing*..."  Whatever Q meant to 
say next got swallowed by Tom's mouth, his tongue being 
courted by his lover's.  It was a wonderful sensation, 
one he'd all but forgotten, and he gave in with no
struggle to speak of.

Tom, for his part, was somewhat surprised that Q was 
willing to follow his lead, but guessed that, at least 
with mortal sex, it had been longer for his lover than 
it had been for him.

Q sighed with simple pleasure as Tom's foot began 
stroking his calf.  Such an unremarkable caress, yet it 
rocked him as few things had since the creation of the 
universe.  Not that he intended to tell Tom; the man's
ego needed no encouragement.  

Tom was enjoying himself immensely.  He hadn't realized 
how distracting their usual sex was until the 
distractions were no longer present.  He didn't have to 
focus on or concern himself with anything, no stars 
going nova, no absolute emptiness of a black hole, no 
odd primal reactions at having sex underwater for hours, 
despite the fact that he didn't have to worry about 
breathing while doing it.  Nothing extraneous at all.  
Just Q and him.  Regular oxygen atmosphere, normal 
gravity, sheets, even.  It was...basic.  Simple.  And 
he'd missed it.

Q was so focused on Tom's foot that a feathery touch on 
his cock made him gasp aloud.  He met an amused blue 
gaze and grinned back rakishly, then lay still, relaxing 
into the sheets as his lover methodically coaxed him 
into full arousal.

Warm hands grasped and kneaded his back, coasting on 
skin that was gradually becoming slick with sweat.  A 
hot mouth kissed and nuzzled, a tongue sneaked out to 
lick and taste.  Fingers traced his body, following the 
plane and curve of muscle from shoulder to hip and 
memories, ancient memories, surfaced enough to prod him 
into responding to the man rediscovering him.

Tom groaned quietly into Q's ear as fingers that had 
snapped whole universes into being set loose upon his 
body, molding him into something created solely for 
pleasure.  Down an arm, a leg, across his stomach, 
around his ribs, over his shoulders, everywhere, they 
went, traveling with mortal slowness, but still faster 
than Tom could follow.  And the instant something warm 
and slippery was slicked along the length of his cock,
his eyes startled open with a muffled yell, and he met 
Q's ragged gaze. Questions were instantly answered by 
the look in the temporarily mortal man's eyes and Tom 
slid between long legs, positioned himself carefully,
and thrust oh-so-slowly into Q's welcoming heat.

Perfect.

Tom smiled evilly as dark eyes rolled backward in their 
sockets but the grin was wiped from his face when the 
muscles surrounding his cock tightened impossibly as he 
thrust again into the body of his lover.

Q rose to meet him, turning all his energy inward, on 
being mortal, concentrating at remaining mortal, even 
though he was burning to let himself go, be who and what 
he really was, and maybe even persuade Tom to move the 
action to the warp core, or someplace more in keeping 
for a Q.

He didn't.

It took a supreme act of will but, then, he was a 
supreme being and such things were not impossible for a 
member of the Continuum.

Besides, he'd always enjoyed a challenge.  And it was a 
hell of a challenge to remain as mortal as his lover, to 
react, to experience it all as a mortal would.  

His eyes met ecstatic blue and he wrapped his legs 
around Tom to pull the man even deeper into himself, 
harder and faster than he'd had been willing to go, and 
Q moaned quietly as he felt the resulting groan to his 
core. 

"I've missed this," Q ground out, threading the fingers 
of one hand through Tom's hair and arching himself 
upward into the man's thrusts.

"Me, too," Tom groaned back, speeding up, heat building 
impossibly hot and then it almost was like having sex in 
a sun's corona, after all, as he cried out in 
completion, barely aware of Q joining him, sharing his
climax, until they lay still and breathless in each 
other's arms.

"Absolutely extraordinary," Q murmured, brushing his 
lips across Tom's damp forehead.  He spared half a 
thought at cleaning them up and it was done, sheets 
settling over them perfectly as the man in his arms 
burrowed into his side with a tired, contented sigh.

"Mmm, hmm," Tom agreed, turning his head just enough for 
his lips to kiss whatever part of Q they were closest 
to, a shoulder, he thought.

"Sleep," Q whispered, as a soft snap made it so, barely 
giving Tom's lips the chance to form the word, "Stay."

"For a little while," Q allowed, luxuriating in the 
delight of Tom sleeping with him, strong frame curled 
around and over him.  He closed his eyes in an attempt 
to try to 'sleep', himself, but was content to simply 
rest when he found it impossible.  Q stayed long enough 
for Tom to naturally reach dreamsleep, then winked back 
into a reality of his own making with a silent promise 
to return.


~~~


Tom surfaced the next morning at the tentative touch of 
a hand on his arm.  Blue eyes blearily opened to find 
Harry sitting on the floor, watching him sleep.  He 
smiled warmly, with complete understanding.

"I'm still here, Harry," he said softly, his hand 
reaching out to cover the one on his arm.  "And I don't 
plan on going anywhere."

"I know, Tom," Harry choked out, his answering smile 
weak and shaky.  "I know."


~~~end