The Promised Land, Book TwoPart FourteenIn Hollywood, everyone (Very-Very and his Girls, Chris and Pen, Q's three sons, all of them) were pretending that Etienne was cute. But Jean-Luc knew. There. Ain't. No. Way. Etienne had little narrow shoulders, and an odd pot belly. He was growing and gaining weight, but he stayed skinny. "Nice baby," Worf said. "He looks just like his father." He and Will were really taking to the baby. At one point, Jean-Luc actually got jealous and took Etienne from Will. Jean-Luc knew folks were amused by the baby's odd looks. Fair enough. Jean-Luc was beginning to like Etienne's ugliness; it gave him something in common with Etienne. It meant Etienne was his. Even Q admitted as much. "I wish *my* sons looked like *me*." Q's sons. To get Wesley to the Christmas party, Q had to beg and plead and coax and cajole; he finally had to end up sending airline tickets and offers of limos to Wesley and Traveler. Then Q picked them up at the airport; Traveller was still his goofily-dressed, goofy-looking self, but Wesley was cute and nicely dressed. "I'm mighty proud of you, son," he whispered. It was a pleasant drive back to the house. Traveler was chatty and nerdy but also loving and kind, affectionate and gentle, and seemed quite taken with Wes. Q was trying very hard to be happy. He did feel a bit oppressed by the burden of entertaining them, and he was afraid they might not fit in with the Hollywood crowd. And they didn't. At first. "Let me introduce you boys around," he said awkwardly when they got there. Wes and the Traveler said nothing, merely following Q. Near the kitchen, they ran into Data and Geordi. "Data, Geordi, you haven't met my son Wesley, have you? And his roommate Trav . . .uh, Waymon." "I KNOW THAT BOOK!" Waymon shrieked. Data's head jerked back a little; then he looked down at the book he was carrying. "It's by RHEMUEL SPOCK!" Everyone looked at Waymon who was embarrassed by the sudden attention and awkwardly tried to go back to being his retiring self. His body looked like it were doing a strange little clumsy jig, pushing itself forward and back as if it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to do. For a moment Q felt absolute despair. This cloddish man was going to make a rough situation even rougher. Waymon clearly had no idea how strange he looked. "It probably isn't the same person, but if it was. . . wow, he's one of the greatest minds in physics." Data looked again at his book. "Do you know Rhemuel's work?" And suddenly the awkwardness was completely gone. They all began to talk furiously of Spock's theories. Q could not even remotely understand their conversation, but he could see how their postures suddenly went from stiff and formal to welcoming and relaxed. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said. They hardly heard him. The party had started. Will was carrying Etienne (whom he had dressed in a little red velvet Santa outfit) and walking around with Patsy. Everyone was there. Guinan and her crowd. Very-Very and his Girls. And everyone had invited someone else so very soon the party was going full blast. Every so often, Q would break from hosting and go check on Wesley and Traveler. But they were still standing in that same spot by the kitchen door with Data and Geordi. As a matter of fact, the caterers were giving them funny looks as they worked around them all night. "You guys need to move out of the way," he told them. "Oh," they answered in the manner of nerdy scientists everywhere. "Okay." And stayed right where they were. Waymon and Data were looking at the book together ("there's my FAVORITE Spock footnote!" Waymon said, "I just have to laugh everytime I get to page 620!") and Wesley was talking in a low soft voice to Geordi. The change in Wesley was astonishing. He was no longer awkward and resistant in his father's house; rather, he was among people of like mind in a place where he could be himself. "Wesley, move please," Q said. "Give the caterers a little space." They all laughed, and Wesley took Geordi's arm and led him to a big easy chair near them. Then he just sat himself right down on the padded arm of the chair and continued talking to Geordi. (A big mistake this sitting on the arms of chairs; if Wesley had been any of Q's younger sons, he would have gotten a reprimand). And, when Aloe got there, she took bright-red-eye snaps of Q with all four of his sons and Q felt a completion he had never felt before. "It's present time!" Q said. "Everyone gather around!" "Where's Jean-Luc?" Guinan asked. Nearly identical twins. They looked just alike. Blond, blue-eyed, tan, with that unearthly almost zombie-like California beauty. Somebody Very-Very had invited had brought these two. But one was a hot muscular beach boy and one was a lissome nymphet girl. He had a big dick which needed no encouragement to get stiff and stay that way, and she had big tits and wide hips, full round voluptuous buttocks. Jean-Luc wanted to fuck both of them in the ass. "My Christmas present," he said to them and they agreed. They would do anything for Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc had stuck around the party for a while, but singing carols around the piano and watching Q's loathsome brood fling plastic toys around was not for him. So he'd rounded up these two. They had interested him. "Oh, my, look at this. Q, you shouldn't have!" Waymon was saying. It was a certificate for two weeks at a all-male spa on the Atlantic seaboard. Q smiled. It was a thin sad smile. And everyone but the children noticed. Kira, tactfully, had not come (after all, not only had she stolen Q for two nights but she was also implicitly siding with Jadzia), but she dropped Modyed off. Patsy and Modyed were best friends. Santa Q had given them (among other things) life-size rag dolls with combable hair. The dolls had elastic bands on their feet and you put the elastic bands on your feet and the dolly could walk with you! The girls walked around and around with their dolls! And Vernon, Roger, and Jerry had gotten computers! Computers! With all the latest games! From his perch at Geordi's side, Wesley looked wistfully at his brothers' presents. "Hey, let's us pretend like we're from out of space!" Jerry shouted. Then Wesley opened his gift from Santa Q. A huge computer AND a spa certificate! He gave his father a radiant smile; he hadn't been forgotten. But, predictably, Etienne got the most presents. Precious tiny clothes and bath toys and smart tiny spectator brogans and Floyd sunhats and Patsy had saved her pennies and gotten Etienne a plastic ashtray from the dollar store! "Etienne says ‘thank you very much, Patsy!'" Will translated for the beaming Patsy. "I wish Jean-Luc were here to see all this," Q murmured to no one in particular. Jean-Luc had her kneel on the floor with her elbows on the bed and her twin lay on the bed and jerked himself off as he watched Jean-Luc fuck her big pink ass. "Geordi, really, isn't there something I can get you?" Geordi paused. "Well, Wes, maybe some more egg nog." Q was watching this from his seat beside the tree. (Will had taken over hostess duties while Q held the gently snoring Etienne.) He smiled. Wesley had waltzed right into the kitchen and helped himself. Wesley was . . . home. (You don't open a refrigerator unless you're at home.) Guinan came over. "I have a Christmas present for you, Q," she said in her careful measured way. He looked at her empty hands. "The best presents are surprises, no?" She sat beside him. "So here's my present: "Yes, he loves you, but you have to be patient. He's had a lot of pain in his life and he doesn't mean to take it out on you even though he does." Then she flexed her thin eyebrows. Q just stared at her. "And the pain Jean-Luc causes you is nothing compared to the pain he causes himself." And then Jean-Luc climbed on the bed and fucked the boy in the ass and she climbed on the bed with them and stuck one finger in Jean-Luc's butthole as she caressed his balls. When Jean-Luc came, he nearly blacked out from the force of it. "Is there anything else you'd like, Geordi?" "No, Wesley. Thanks though." "Are you sure?" Kira came to pick up Modyed. She was polite about not coming in. But Modyed and Patsy both began to scream so piteously that the party stopped for a minute. Q stood up quickly and went to the door -- "Kira, let Modyed spend the night. You know we'll take good care of her." Kira looked back at her car. "Well, I do have . . . someone with me." She shrugged. "An old friend of mine and Bareil's." She and Q looked at each other. "Thank you," she said quickly and kissed him. "Merry Christmas." And the little girls jumped up and down. After that, the party began to break up; the caterers started cleaning. Guinan and her crowd said good-bye. Will and Worf took Patsy and Modyed upstairs to get ready for bed so Santa Claus could bring more gifts (Modyed had never heard of him!) And Wesley was deep in conversation with Geordi. Jean-Luc walked downstairs. The twins followed him, satiated, slightly abashed at what they'd done. Very-Very rolled his eyes. And Q was standing at the foot of the stairs with a poleaxed look on his pretty face. He had just known things would be different. How could they not after they've gotten so close? But he was wrong. Again. Jean-Luc thanked the twins and said good-night; then, he motioned for Q to come up stairs with him. Q shook his head no. "I'm going to work in the kitchen a bit. I'll be up directly." What an asshole, they both thought. Aha. With Dad in the kitchen, the coast was clear. Wesley put his hand on Geordi's knee. Geordi moved his knee away. Wesley moved his hand to Geordi's knee again and left it there, warm and beguiling. "No," Geordi said. Wesley thought Geordi's voice was so beautiful. "Why not?" Geordi was horrified. "I've had sex with your father. Go find someone else. Someone who doesn't live in this house." "You're what I want. You're what I need." He moved his hand to the front of Geordi's fly. Geordi was not aroused. "Absolutely not." He paused. "You want me to tell Jean-Luc on you?" "I'm not a child, Geordi." "I'm going to find Data and hit the hay. I suggest you do the same." Geordi could tell Wesley wasn't moving. Suddenly, he felt a surge of pity for the boy. Everybody knew his sad story and probably, from Wesley's point of view, everybody hated him. "It's not like I don't appreciate it, Wes, because I do. And I know it really means a lot coming from you. But I value what Data and I have. And I love your father too much." Wes said nothing. Geordi tried to read the boy's silent skin. "Wes?" "This is the first time I've . . . done anything like this since I moved in with Traveler. What if I've ruined everything?" "Wes, you haven't." Well, shit. Geordi was being a decent person who responded appropriately to an indecent proposal. "Don't be mad at me, Geordi. And don't tell Dad, okay? I'm sorry. I lost my head. This whole straight world is strange to me. I'm sorry. I'll behave." "There you go," Geordi said reassuringly. "Hey, tomorrow, let's finish this conversation. I mean, don't tell me you love me only for my body." Q had been the one to take Etienne back to Tennessee; Jean-Luc couldn't stand to say good-bye to Etienne. Q didn't mind, he said. He had these investment opportunities in Tennessee he had to see about. "You think that little son-of-a-bitch knows who I am?" Q smiled weakly. "I'm sure of it." He said good-bye to his own sons at the airport. Wesley and Traveler were taking Wes' brothers home to Momma. (Q had drawn Wesley aside and strongly urged him to spend some time with his mother: "She gave you life, Wesley. It was my fault she gave you up.") Wesley had not expected such a poised woman as Beverly to be his mother, and the beauteous and sympathetic De-Anne was just a bonus. They both were working extra hard to make Waymon fit in. And the cooking! And there was so much of it! (Waymon was particularly grateful for Beverly's gift in that area.) When they sat down to eat, Beverly said, "Let's say grace," and when she was through, the three little boys and Waymon all made the sign of the cross. De-Anne smiled. Wesley had a lot of catching up to do with Beverly. She was tickled that he was in school, and he was tickled that she had gotten her GED and was going back to school. "I've been accepted into nursing school!" Everyone clapped and said ‘yay'. "Next Christmas, make Q have us all have Christmas here," Beverly said. "I'd love that," Wesley told her, "but now I feel guilty about not being here this Christmas." He peeked at his mom. She hadn't quit smiling. "Momma, didja miss us, didja miss us?" Roger said. "Your momma didn't miss you all half as much as I did," De-Anne said and smiled at them. (They loved De-Anne nearly as much as they loved their momma and diddy.) "What happened?" She looked at Beverly who smiled back. "It's a long story." De-Anne's mother, the infamous LouAnne Bell Troy Timerson Scott, had visited with her latest husband, Cap'n Monty. "What's he captain of?" Waymon asked. "They have a houseboat called ‘The LouAnne'. I guess that's his ship." She sighed. "LouAnne is NOT happy with my lifestyle. Or with my house. Or with my job." "Don't forget the poodle," Beverly added. "That's right, Mother doesn't even care for my poodle." "No!" cried Roger. "They brought their little scotty dog with them. And when Cap'n Monty wasn't keeping us up all night singing these weird sea chanties, their dog was picking fights with Cocoa." "What's the dog's name?" De-Anne sighed. "Scotty." "Scotty," Beverly echoed. "That's why it's so good to have you boys all here. I can see what a good mother is like," De-Anne said and Beverly patted her hand. Then Beverly looked at Wesley and put her other hand on top of his. "I love my whole family," she said, beaming. "You make me complete." Q's plane landed early, just in time for a nice breakfast with Jean-Luc and Data. Data buttered a scone. "Well, Quark says . . " Jean-Luc was on him. "Don't say that cocksucker's name around me ever again." Q looked at him. Patient. Understanding. Jean-Luc was furious – he wanted to say to Q, quit understanding me, but he couldn't quite. "Jean-Luc, we're going to have to talk about Quark. He's our manager. That's all there is to it." "The news is out all over town." Jean-Luc was seething. Photos of Quark following the goddess-y Melinda around were in all the newspapers. Quark always appeared stunned by his new-found joy. Then Jean-Luc looked almost mournful, his eyes narrowed to slits. "I have no idea what happened. All the goddam pussy in America has an out-of-order sign on it." "How about us? Data doesn't look like he needs repairing and I . . . I love you." Jean-Luc seemed mollified. "Well, we'll have to start all the goddam business soon. Let's have a little fun. Let's work on Data. Just let me watch for a while. Is that okay with you, Data?" "Yes," Data leaned his head to the side. In the bedroom, Jean-Luc took a deep sighing breath. "Show me what you did that first time. In the woods. I like cherry busting. Especially in the great outdoors." He slid his jeans off. "Come on." In response, Q grabbed Data around the waist and drew him close. "Do you remember, Data? You didn't know anything at all, but you let me show you." Data moved his hand to the front of Q's pants and moved it against the bulge, against the fullness. "It is exactly like that first time. You are as aroused." "Let's take off our clothes," and, kissing and moving against each other the whole while, they undressed. Jean-Luc watched the pretty sight silently. Then Q lay down and pulled Data on top of him. "Use your mouth, get me wet," Data whispered. "Then I'll get inside you." Q grabbed Data by the waist and turned him over so he could lean over and suck Data into readiness, into surrender, and then Data said, "I'm so ready," and Q whispered, "touch me there," and Data did, using his fingers, and Q was on his back now, and Data pulled Q's long legs open and then entered him and moved methodically, eyes closed, in and out and in and out. "You feel so nice," he whispered to Q. "Which is better, pitching or catching?" Jean-Luc leaned over to Data. Data slid his eyes over to Jean-Luc. "You want to see me take it all in, don't you?" "Yeah, I do. And maybe sit on mine after that. Look," Jean-Luc held himself, fully aroused and gleaming, out to Data. Q gasped, both at the sight of Jean-Luc and at the feel of Data's methodical coring of his sweet ass. And suddenly Data pulled out and leaned over and took Q in his mouth. "Remember how I licked you? I had no clue as to what I was doing. But I loved it." He leaned over, his tongue busy around Q's cock. After a few moments, Q began to buck gently against Data. "You can sit on it now. Just sit on it now." "Oh God, my favorite thing." And Data straddled Q, placing himself carefully against Q's erection. "This is great," Jean-Luc whispered. And Data twisted again and again to take Q inside him and Q moved just a little against him not wanting to force himself into Data, not wanting to hurt Data, but wanting it all just the same. Suddenly Data had all of Q inside him, and his eyelids fluttered. And Q began to shuffle his body against Data more and more rapidly, holding Data's pale thighs against his waist, pounding against Data, and Data loved it. His cock was erect, standing out from his body, and, when he put his hand on it, Jean-Luc put his big hand around Data's hand and they both caressed it together. "After this, I'm going to make Q suck my balls and you can lick my tits, Data." Jean-Luc's voice was rough and rapturous. And Q gripped Data's thighs and he was coming – Jean-Luc could feel, even at a distance, the throbbing of Q's body. "How is it, baby?" Jean-Luc whispered, but Q could not even speak. "I am still quite aroused," Data said as he pushed up and down on the gasping Q. "Look." "Let me get a rubber and I'll fuck you til you're done. Then I really want Q to suck my cock." And Data rose up from the pink-faced Q and got off the bed, watching Jean-Luc as he slid the rubber on. Jean-Luc slowed down so Data could watch him, slit-eyed, breathing noisily. "Kneel like you're praying, and let your daddy come in," Jean-Luc said. Q watched. He could see Jean-Luc rocking again and again against Data who was pressing himself against the side of the bed. Data's eyes were rolling and he looked nowhere in particular, being completely lost in this sensation. "Big enough for you, fucker?" Data leaned over more to position himself better; he wanted more. Much more. He was fucking the cloth, fucking the air, and he moved his hand to himself and it took only a touch and he came too, his head moving back and forth intently, his eyes closed in appreciation. Jean-Luc pulled out, still quite aroused, still wanting. "I'll take off the rubber and get cleaned up. I want some cocksucking and I want it bad." And when Jean-Luc came back from the bathroom, Q was ready for him, and he made Jean-Luc lie down and put his thighs on Q's shoulders and then Q took all of him in his mouth, massaging it carefully with every part of his wet lips and tongue, and Data lay down and, rolling over to Jean-Luc, sucked his small pale nipples into hard little wet bullets as Jean-Luc ran his hand up and down Data's side. "I like fucking two men," Data said as he stretched out beside. "Geordi and I did much of that with Rhemuel Spock." "I bet that was something," Jean-Luc yawned. Data looked at him. "Worf and Will are fond of engaging another man so they both can fuck him." "Not the worst fate that can befall a man." "I have not yet done that with Worf and Will, although Worf and I have had a number of intimate encounters." Jean-Luc touched himself, touched his balls. "Tell me about it. Are you listening to this, Q?" Jean-Luc was in the middle between Q and Data; now Q snuggled closer. "You know how we get sent all those photographs of nude fans?" "Where are they?" "I have been cataloguing them over the years." "Data, I didn't know that." "Yes, and I filed them according to subject matter. Tits. Ass. Dick. Those are the categories recommended to me by Worf." Data was lying on his stomach watching Jean-Luc arouse himself. "I was intrigued by the first time I saw a photograph from a woman. She had positioned herself right in front of the camera and her external genitalia were quite visible." "Make this story a little hotter, Data," Jean-Luc suggested. Data paused. Then he started again. "I did not know how to catalogue it. The only person other than myself who happened to around was Worf. I showed Worf the photograph and he said, *that is a piece of ass. I would know it anywhere.*" Data was very amusing in his imitation of Worf. Q was erect again, pushing against Jean-Luc's backside. "Then he looked at me and said he wanted to play a little game." "A game?" "He would be Jean-Luc and I would be Q, he said. And he would show me the rules to this game upstairs in his bedroom." Jean-Luc was darkly amused. "How do you play Jean-Luc and Q?" "I lay on the edge of the bed with my knees in the air and he fucked me from there. We were both naked, needless to say. He . . . " Data was trying to remember exactly how it was done. "I recall his remarking that he was my daddy and he was going to take his little girl home." "Did you like it?" "It was incredibly stimulating." "That's the third time this week." Kurn sighed. Gowron sighed with him. "What the hell should we do?" They had been riding around the property in the golf cart Jean-Luc bought for just that reason when they spotted Sebastiana and Jake walking away from the house. Friendly. Laughing. "She's not the bossman's new queen, is she?" "I don't think so. He's back with Q, I think." They looked at each other. "That Q's some pussy." "Jesus. I wish I had me some of that right now." They both shivered at the memory. "But that girl's the mother of the bossman's baby." "Yeah, and that boy's Joe's grandson. I like Joe." "I like Joe too." "Oh, hell, I like Jake all right too." "Oh, hell, you know you're right." "The boss didn't give us any instructions." "Yeah, but he didn't know this would happen." The roadies looked at each other. Moral uncertainty was new to them. Sebastiana enjoyed Jake's company. He was nearly as wise as Joe, but he was young and handsome and tall and gallant. "That sausage your mother cooks is so great," he was saying. "Tell Maman. She loves your compliments." Martine did seem very comfortable with Jake. "I love your mother. She reminds me of my mother. We'll have to let Mom come visit here. She'll love to see Joe again. He's a great man." Sebastiana looked down as they walked along. "But your dad is the one who is Joe's son." "Yes," Jake said. He said no more. They walked along in silence. The mystery of fathers was one of the things they had in common. "When I first got here, I thought you were married to one of those men. But they're gay." Sebastiana's face was serious. I'm not married to anyone." "Your boyfriend must be very happy about the baby." She became even more serious. "I don't have a boyfriend." "I don't want to intrude, Miss Sebastiana. Ever. But nobody's ever talked much about who the father of your baby is." Suddenly she buried her face in her small hands and began to sob. Jake grabbed her shoulders, "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to bring up anything sad from the past." She looked up; the quick tears were like a spring rain. Now her face was clearer and more beautiful than before. "Mr. Johnny is the man who got me pregnant. But he doesn't stay here. He goes with Q. I love Etienne, but none of this is what I wanted out of life." Jake drew her nearer. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could do something to make you feel better." She shook her head sadly and stepped away. They walked on. The Smokies rolled away in the distance. And it looked like the roadies were doing something on the edges of the property. "This is a nice place," Jake decided to change the subject. "Jake, did you mean it about doing something for me?" Jake smiled. "Can you teach me how to use the word processor?" "Q, let's take a break. You've not ridden in my restored Corvette yet, have you?" Jean-Luc just wanted to drive. It didn't matter where. Just driving was very nice; it cleared his head. "A convertible! Oooooh!" And now Q was sitting there beside him talking idly of different things. Money. Deals. "We'll get those filmmakers to shoot that tour documentary. Those things go to video and they sell forever. Say, that boy that Wesley rooms with is really smart. He's showed me some things about marketing I never dreamed of. He says that very soon we'll be able to market things at the speed of light." Jean-Luc was only half-listening. Q's voice was a pleasant purr in his ear. "And Wesley's gotten enrolled in some basic engineering courses. Since he was in prison, he didn't accumulate the credits he could have." Jean-Luc drove on. "I talked to Vernon on the phone last night. Vernon's in high school now. I can't believe it! I told him to make good grades and I'd make sure he went to college. He said no one he knew ever went to college. And, you know what, he's right. I'm awfully worried that my three younger sons won't go on with their education." Normally this sort of chat drove Jean-Luc insane. Who cared if Q's gruesome sons went to college or not? But now when Q talked of his sons, Jean-Luc thought of Etienne. Everything had changed with Etienne. "What's in that will you have for those boys? You told me and I forgot." "Well, I have a trust set up. They'll get some nice money. When they finish college. Well, two years of college." "I want to do that. Except, of course, Etienne will have to get a degree. And he has to be twenty-five. No sense spoiling the boy." They were quiet for a bit. "Q, you're mighty good to some little old boys who might not even be yours." "They're mine." Jean-Luc drove a bit further. Q decided to tease Jean-Luc. Gently. "Daddy, you're mighty good to some little old boy who might not even be yours." "Even Geordi laForge could see I'm Etienne's father. Poor little bastard looks just like me. Poor little sonofabitch." Aloe shot the cover picture for the new album, and it was a miracle. Jean-Luc and Q were in the center. Geordi and Data were on their right, and Worf and Will were on their left. Sebastiana, holding the ecstatic and drooling Etienne, stood behind Jean-Luc. Vernon, Jerry and Roger were clustered behind Q. Wesley and Traveler stood behind the three redheads. Christine, Upenda and Patsy stood behind Worf and Will. Radiating out from behind them were Bev and De-Anne, Mrs. Crusher and Meemaw McConn, Paul and Kassidy, and all of Geordi's extended blood family (their outfits matched again; everyone smiled). Even Martine was in it, her arms around her nephew and niece, her head held high. And the roadies stood in the very back, glowering proudly. They all smiled for the camera, like a big old family reunion portrait. In fact, it turned out quite a bit like a family reunion because everyone had flown or driven to Tennessee in their best clothes, then patiently turned this way and that for Aloe, and then finally got to sit down to a big spread that young Ms. Tyler, bless her officious little heart, had the caterers bring in. The stiffness drained away as all the varied participants sat down to criticize the caterer's renditions of potato salad and baked beans. "Not one bit of ham in those beans," Mrs. laForge sniffed to Beverly. Beverly just shook her head. She could do better with her eyes closed. People politely ooohed and aaahed over Etienne. "What a... nice boy," one of Geordi's sisters said. Jean-Luc seethed quietly. Meemaw McConn offered to hold Etienne on her lap so Sebastiana could eat in peace. "I'll hold him," Jean-Luc said. It was his job to protect Etienne. Etienne sat quietly in his father's lap. No one noticed it all but, whenever Jean-luc scowled, Etienne made a tiny scowl too. Q and Will nudged each other over Jean-Luc's protective dignity (though they carefully waited until his back was turned). Jean-Luc the ever-vigilant. Aloe got a shot of him with the baby on his lap. In the picture you could see that the boy was a beige version of his father. Aloe also got a shot of Wesley talking with Vernon. They looked nothing alike. Q didn't care. He had that one framed. And while Quark and Melinda sat this one out, they were there in spirit. Because they were happy. The studio and the preview audiences were ecstatic over "The Cause." "That's a little more like it," Melinda growled as she looked at the morning Variety. "I love you." "Knock it off, Tommytommy." "No, I love you." Quark searched his brain for something vast enough to contain his love. He wished he owned a contient, a moon, a galaxy! to give her. "Will you marry me?" "Tommytommy," she shook her head sadly. "Tommy, I have a date tonight with a studio head. I can't marry you. I'm sure I'll end up balling him. Maybe his wife will even videotape us doing it. She did the last time. Until she joined in. We ended up chaining him to the wall while we put on a little show. I'm kinda hot thinking about it right now." She sighed. "I'm just not bridal material." "You think that doesn't make me hot! Feel me!" "I'll do better than that, Tommy." When they had finished, Melinda lay there glowing on the white sheets of her immaculate bed. "I love you, Melinda." She pulled the sheet over her head. "Who you gonna call?" Quark looked at her. "Ghostbusters!" She pulled the sheet down. "Because his ghost is always with us in this bed." "I love you." "Jean-Luc loved it when I fucked other men. He wanted to hear about it. He wanted to see it." "I'll run out and get you other men right now. I can't wait til tomorrow because you'll get to tell about stuffing that big exec's dick in your honey pot." "Ummm," she said and kissed him. "Plus, Melinda, listen to this. Your career is my career. Jean-Luc is sex on the hoof, but I'm a businessman. You KNOW you love your career." For the first time, Melinda looked directly at him. "Good one, Quarky. And you think you could handle it if I did it with other women?" "You'll do it with other women?" She smiled. "I HAVE to do it with other women." Quark clearly saw the gates of heaven opening. "Jean-Luc, we have to do business." Jean-Luc would not even look at Quark. "Jean-Luc, permit me to say one thing." Jean-Luc was still as stone. "Jean-Luc, I always knew you as the world's most truthful man. And I respect that. Now, when Melinda left you, you were sad. And you were mad. But when Q . . . went away, well, you know what happened. It's Q that you love." Jean-Luc leapt like a tiger. "It's Q. That. I. Own. I never owned Melinda. Obviously, she'd have been better off if I owned her, but . . . " Quark lifted his eyebrows at this. And suddenly Jean-Luc was holding him by his shirt front. "If the woman wants to crawl around with some little inch-dick like you, well, this is America the last I heard." Then he let Quark go. "Everybody's got me by the balls. I have to keep singing so I can support the entire Nation of Jean-Luc. Fuck it, Melinda was the only one who ever pulled her own weight on payday." He narrowed his eyes at Quark. "I'll work with you, fucker, but never mention MY WIFE'S name to me ever again." "Thank you, Jean-Luc." "I should have ripped your lungs out before I got famous." He looked down. "It's back to work now." Q started in. ‘There's the *Suspicious Minds* video and then there's this one other thing we have to do." Jean-Luc looked at Q. Suspiciously. Everyone else around the big polished dining room table studied their fingertips. "Well, I'm been talking. On the phone." Q took a deep breath. "With Martine. And she wants Etienne baptized. Soon." "You talked to Martine?" Jean-Luc said. Q nodded. Miserable. "How big a whore can one man be?" Well, all right, they had to go to Tennessee anyway to film the video so they might as well stop in and get the poor little bastard baptized. Jean-Luc made one stipulation, however: it had to be a Metropolitan Community baptism. "Not some chicken blood island thing of Martine's." "Jean-Luc, they're Catholic." "No real difference." Q affected the compromise. The baptism was presided over by both an elderly Irish priest who drove down from Kentucky and a Metro minister with a plump red face. Surprisingly, once the initial introduction was made, these two got along well. All they wanted to do, after all, was baptize one little baby. Father Boothby looked closely at Etienne; he seemed startled. Then the Metro minister took Etienne in his arms; he too was startled. Then he gave the baby a wide smile. Jean-Luc scowled. Father Boothby began his mumbo-jumboish ritual. Water. Oil. "Does this community renounce Satan?" There was a long pause. Then: "We do." The priest sighed and continued. After a bit, the Metro minister took over. "We thank you, Lord of the earth, for this . . . beautiful baby boy. Whom we call Etienne Taylor Picard." Data leaned forward. "His initials are E.T.," he whispered excitedly. "Not another fucking word out of you," Jean-Luc said with his head lowered. Patsy was feeling very insecure. She loved her little cousin and she loved his room and his toys and his bottle of juice but there was something else going on. And she had talked to Richard and Olivia and asked them who the lady was holding the baby and they had said that that was the baby's mommy. Everybody she knew had a mommy. She had tried to brazen it through; "I don't have a mommy," she had told Richard and Olivia, "I have TWO DADDIES!" And Richard and Olivia had laughed. Patsy had no frame of reference for any of this. So, when Daddy Will came in to kiss her good-night and stay with her til she went to sleep, she was frank with him. "Who's my mommy?" But Will had been ready with this story for years. He called in Worf whispering "she finally asked," and then together they sat down with Patsy. ‘...and the nice lady looked around for somebody who would love her beautiful little girl as much as she did, and your Daddy Worf and I said, 'We will!' So she said 'Are you going to love her and hug her as much as I want to?' And we said, 'We sure are.'" Will demonstrated, giving Patsy a giant squeeze. ‘Then she said, 'Are you going to buy her nice things?' And we said 'Yes.' So she said, 'Okay, you can be Patsy's new parents.' And here we are." ‘But you didn't have a baby?" Patsy had to be sure. "No. Daddy can't have a baby." "Because you're a man?" "Right." "Believe it or not, most people have a mommy and a daddy, not a daddy and a daddy." "Why do I have a daddy and daddy?" "We loved each other too much to be apart." Worf could tell by the look on her face that this wasn't anywhere near over. After the baptism, Jean-Luc was holding Etienne. Once you got used to his looks, the baby had many nice traits. He was cheery and he made amusing, whoopie-cushion noises. He was discreet about his dirty diapers, not having one every ten minutes the way Patsy had. And his mother and his father both loved him. Jean-Luc put a spoonful of bananas in the baby's happy mouth. Jake Sisco walked through the kitchen. "Still here, Jake? Helping out your granddad?" Jean-Luc just wanted to make sure. Jake swallowed. "Actually, I'm helping Sebastiana get back into school. I'm doing . . . computer stuff for her." "I see." The "Suspicious Minds" video was directed by Aloe; it was part of her "movie" series. This time Q's minister character was sitting in his study in a soft dusty afternoon light. A bird was singing outside his window. Then Q turned on a little old-fashioned record player which played a scratchy rendition of the first line of Elvis Presley's "Suspicious Minds." Then the Boys' version kicked in. As Jean-Luc sang of being caught in a trap and of not being able to walk out, the video showed villainous Jean-Luc knocking down the minister's door with his leering henchman Will. Will made the Reverend Q get in a convertible; Will's character was holding a huge rope. The song played underneath the action as they drove along. Suddenly, the song stopped and so did the car. They had had a flat. "We can't go on like this," Jean-Luc's voice observed. And Jean-Luc and Will forced Q on his knees. . . to fix the flat. Will never once quit leering. (It was what his character did.) Then the song started again and so did the car. ("Why am I driving the car?" Q asked Aloe. "What's my motivation?" Your motivation is to be in the video. It just looks right.") They got out of the car in front of a shack with a rusty tin roof. The music was picking up its tempo. Jean-Luc, followed by Will and Q, threw the door open and walked in. Jean-Luc had found what he wanted to find. Worf was lying in bed with . . . Kami Spencer. (Everyone had wanted Melinda to play Jean-Luc's cheating mistress, but no one wanted to ask her to do it. And no one certainly wanted to suggest that casting to Jean-Luc. So Kami obligingly took the role. Jean-Luc shrugged. "She's perfect.") Now the scene became very tense. Would they attempt to lynch Worf? Jean-Luc played angry very well. But no, what was happening was that Jean-Luc was pulled the naked Kami out of the bed, and rubbing his hands up and down her arms, sang more to her about suspicious minds. (Aloe's clever camera was able to avoid Kami's full nudity.) Worf was naked as well, the sheet positioned modestly over him. But his long muscular legs and perfect chest showed, and his broad shoulders and strong biceps were not hidden at all. Then the still-leering Will threw a rope around Kami's neck and led her to the car, behind the triumphant Jean-Luc. Followed by the despairing Q. (But as an interesting subplot Will's character had exchanged very meaningful looks with Worf's character.) "Cut!," said Aloe finally. "It's a wrap! Now, to be continued!" The new tour was going to run from this May to the next. They'd be on the road forever, and Q was a little sulky about that. He wanted to spend some time with his sons. The other Boys said they'd fly them in. But still. Well, Nancy Taylor was a big help. She was an efficient, quiet, young woman, very eager to do a good job. She had only one flaw. She was crazy about Geordi. "I am rather exhausted from keeping up with all the many thousands of people who want you," Data told Geordi. And he wasn't kidding. There was the slightest curl of fury in his voice. "Don't start with me, Data." Guinan came over with her entourage and met with Jean-Luc and the Boys in the dining rom. Nancy demurely followed Q and took special care to sit near Geordi. "I like that video of Aloe's. Jean-Luc, you seem quite happy to play the villain." Jean-Luc nodded. "You female video directors are always getting me into something." Guinan didn't smile a lot, but she smiled at that. "Too bad we can't get Kira on the case." "I never thought Kira's videos were so hot." "When did you take up lying, Jean-Luc?" Jean-Luc just rolled his eyes. Q leaned in. He was breathless. "Word's going around that Kira will probably get nominated for a directing Oscar for ‘The Cause'! It's that good!" Jean-Luc sighed. "Stop tormenting me, both of you." Everyone looked down. But Guinan had more tact than even Q himself. "I like this song. Isn't it one that you wrote?" Jean-Luc nodded once. "The Devil in Cell-Block D." "I think it's time to put a twist in Aloe's movie. We could show the reasons why your character is always such a mean son-of-a-bitch." Jean-Luc's face was stone. At one point, Guinan stopped the filming. "This is wrong. This is wrong," she said. Her two kids looked at her, alarmed. "Jean-Luc, you're too happy." "I'm not much of an actor, am I?" Guinan shook her head: "You look . . . retired." "Tamed, you mean. So I better get wild again." The video kicked ass. It took place in jail. There was not a single bit of flesh to be seen, yet it was as close to porn as a video could be. It was all men in prison -- men leering at one another as they entered their cells. Men dominating other, smaller men. Burly guards walked Jean-Luc and a beautiful young felon to his cell. They had to run a gauntlet of muscular, snaggle-toothed, tattooed old prisoners who looked at them hungrily. The music was slow, almost dirge-like in its simplicity. A big bull faggot caught Jean-Luc's eye. Jean-Luc stared back, and the bull faggot looked away. There was a shot of the sun going down. The young felon dropped to his knees and fearfully raised his eyes to heaven as the lights went out. The camera cut to Jean-Luc, who looked through the bars of his cell at the terrified, praying youngster. His eyes were impenetrable. Was he angry? Did he want him? Did he want to pray too? The camera never gave an answer, but the next scene was of a frocked Minister Q, waiting to visit him. Jean-Luc was brought in to a visiting room and forced into a chair. Q's compassion for the bound man was palpable. It made Jean-Luc obviously uncomfortable. He shifted and turned his face away, but Q came after him. Jean-Luc looked like he was pleading with Q to stop. Whatever it was he was doing. If anything, Q's love, his compassion grew even deeper. Jean-Luc gave in, acknowledging defeat. He hung his head. Q's hand reached out. Touched his face. Tilted his head up. Their eyes met. The next scene was of Q leading the unbound Jean-Luc out of the prison gates. Then the two men got in preacherman Q's ugly old car and headed down the road. In a wild rain. So wild they had to stop and they ended up a men's room somewhere. Q had been picky about the construction of the men's room set; it would have to reflect a certain quality that he couldn't quite name. And it wasn't just that Q had spent a lot of time in men's rooms. But there had been that time when the Boys had just met Data in Memphis and they had been heading east and had camped in a KOA campground near Shiloh, Tennessee, where the old battlefield was, and, of course, Q and Will and the new boy Data had fussed until Jean-Luc let them visit there. And then let them go into the gift shop (Reproductions of Confederate money! Actual Civil War clay bullets! Aunt Pittypat's Trademark Mints!) And then everybody went to the men's room before they hit the road. And all six of them were washing their hands and doing their ablutions and talking about the future, and it was a men's room with no glass in the windows, just rusty screens (and the pale early summer sun and the heat rolled in), and wooden doors on the stalls painted metal gray with huge push bolt fasteners, and no graffiti, and black seats on the porcelain toilets, and, when he stood at the sink to wash his hands (pumping a suds-free pink soap on his hands)Jean-Luc and Worf had teased him by pressing against him on either side and Jean-Luc said this puts me in mind of prison and didn't we have some good times in the pen Worf and Worf said the best part of prison was all of that jailhouse pussy and they both laughed rough laughs and rubbed against him and he'd never been happier. He wanted that look somehow for the scene where they look in the men's room mirror together. When they finished the video, no one quite knew what to say. Guinan simply looked amused. On an early spring afternoon, a gray rain fell on the Smokies. Upstairs, Jake and Sebastiana were lying together on her little bed. They were not lovers yet, but it was just a matter of time. "Are you sure, Sebastiana?" Jake whispered. His shirt was unbuttoned and her skirt was pulled up above her white panties. But: "Maybe we should wait," she said. Jake swallowed. She was so desirable with her slightly opened knees in the air. He wanted to cover her and protect her and explore all her secret parts with his tongue and his hands and his eyes. "My maman says a man would be a fool to take on a woman with a baby." "Guilty as charged." They leaned together for a long breathless kiss. "I love you, Sebastiana." "I love you, Jake." She had made sure of it this time. Now, when she brought in supper for Joe and Jake and Martine and Richard and Olivia and Etienne, she could barely control her contentment. That there in the warmth of her home (and it was her home; it had her name on it) her family was residing in peace and prosperity. Jean-Luc had been a dream, but this was the reality. "I want to marry you, Sebastiana." "I know," she smiled. She was a very accomplished girl. They kissed again. "There's just one thing," he said. She had been afraid of this. "Jean-Luc?" "No. Worse even than Jean-Luc." At first Sebastiana smiled and then she looked at Jake. He was serious. "It's my dad." After she left Jean-Luc, a small but determined group of misguided fans sent hate mail to Melinda. Once in a while, it made her cry. And Quark couldn't stand it when Melinda cried. He stayed right by her and wiped her tears and made jokes and brought her hot tea and showed her photographs of kittens and flowers and good-looking couples fucking their brains out. And he whispered how much he loved her. "Everybody says I'm just a horrible old career-whore." "I love you." "That's mildly helpful," she sniffled. "Goddess, I thought you wanted to be a career-whore." "You have a point there," she whispered. "Things have never been better between Jean-Luc and me," Q confided to Will, who bit his lower lip before smiling broadly. The roadies had recognized him. "What do you want here, Sisko?" Gowron growled. Benny climbed out of his rented Tercel. Gowron and Kurn bristled, but Sisko didn't flinch. And suddenly it all rushed back on all three of them. Prison. What they carried with them from where they came from. "You wouldn't treat an old jailhouse buddy so mean. Picard can't be that persuasive of an article." "We sympathize with you, man, but Picard said guard this place." "From who?" "Bad eggs," Kurn said. "Like Jake Sisko?" Kurn was the smartest roadie; he grasped it first. "Is that your boy?" Sisko nodded. "So you two are think about getting married." "Yes," Sebastiana ducked her sweet face as she spoke. Man, they made a good-looking couple. Dark and skinny, with pretty lively features. "In June we think. We . . . want to get the business situation settled," Jake said. "You mean Picard." Everyone nodded. "I talked to Mr.Q on the phone last night," Sebastiana said. "He said it was a little . . . early to discuss this with . . . Jean-Luc, but maybe they could take Etienne while we're on our honeymoon. They always love having him." She was feeding Etienne who was hooting with pleasure. "Mr. Q," Benny said with a little hum in his voice. "He was in jail with us too. I was there when they met. I got fifteen hundred dollars for selling that story." Martine was silent. Just when things seemed to be getting better for her precious daughter. She liked Jake enormously; he had a college education, and he was a writer, and he only loved women. And she had heard Jake tell Sebastiana that he'd help her finish college; he even took her up to the nearby community college to register for the next semester. Then one day she found Richard and Olivia and, yes, Sebastiana sitting around the dining room table, doing homework. And for the first time in ages, she had relaxed. But now this ex-con father appeared out of nowhere. She knew Joe's son had lived a troubled life – he made no secret of it, but she hadn't known all the squalid details. Martine closed her eyes. In having that baby by that man-lover, Sebastiana already had a big strike against her. Now, who knew what Jake's daddy was going to turn out to be. "Dad," Jake was saying. "There's one thing I want." "What's that?" Sisko said with some irony. "I talked to Mom yesterday." Benny sat up straight. "About everything happening all at once. The wedding. You. She said all she wanted was for you to sing at my wedding. She said she could still hear your voice in her head. She said you were the best singer she'd ever heard." Sisko lowered his head; were those tears in his eyes? Q hung up the phone. And sighed. Well, he could handle THAT. He went upstairs to their room. Jean-Luc was sitting at his desk, reading with his little light on. "What are you reading?" Jean-Luc turned to him (both he and Q had to wear reading glasses now) and held up a paperback book. It was Dr. Spock. They smiled at each other. "I want to go to Tennessee and see Etienne before the tour starts," Jean-Luc said. "I would like to take him some presents." And then Q gave Jean-Luc himself a present by whispering a hot little story about Q getting naked and riding a horse into a peaceful river and Jean-Luc was waiting on the other side. "Then what happened, Q?" "I got it up the ass all night long." "I can't wait til we do that again." "What are you waiting on?" "Til I'm sure you're better." Q knew better than to argue; "Want me to suck your dick like there's no tomorrow?" Jean-Luc sighed and lay back with his hands behind his head. "Mr. LaForge, let me help you," Nancy Tyler said in her soft brown voice. "Call me Geordi." "Are you sure?" "Yes," Geordi said; he shook his head. If he hadn't know better, he would have said . . . And, of course, Data stiffened up like steel whenever she was around. The plane trip back to Nashville was very sweet. Jean-Luc was changing, Q could tell. "I'm glad we could get all the presents on one little jet liner. It'd be a shame if we had to hire a fleet of transport trains." Q leaned against Jean-Luc and smiled. But Jean-Luc wasn't one bit surprised when the world reverted to its complete motherfucker of a self. "What are you doing here?" As if he couldn't guess. "I'm an invited guest, Picard," Sisko said. They were all the front porch awaiting him. The whole damn menagerie. Taylors, Siskos, roadies, and one little Picard. "Joe, you shoulda told me." "Couldn't think of the right words, Picard." "What about you roadies?" The roadies were genuinely abashed. "Boss, we was watching him. One false move and he was in worse shape than prison," Kurn tried to explain. "So, Benny, in essence you're living off a . . . " Jean-Luc wanted to say a woman peddling ass, but suddenly he couldn't do that to his son's momma. "I made some of my famous swiss steak, Johnny," Sebastiana said softly. "All right," he said. He was trapped. Fortunately, all the Sisko family disappeared and the roadies stayed on the porch patrolling. The steak was good, but Jean-Luc was disconcerted by everything. He couldn't take his eyes off Etienne. Etienne had a very big head and little twig arms and legs. He looked like a little deformed spider. What if Etienne never held his head up and crawled around like other babies?. "What did the doctor say when you took him? When's he supposed to sit up?" "The doctor said Etienne was in wonderful shape." Sebastiana was such a woman now. "Johnny, I know finding Ben and Jake here was a shock to you. But you said you wanted me to get on with my life." She looked down. "Jake and I are getting married." Q was listening carefully. She did not say "Jake and I want to get married" or "Jake and I are thinking about marriage." She said they were getting married. "We'll talk about it later," Jean-Luc murmured. "I've got a job to do. On the road again." He kept glancing at Etienne. Bootlegged tapes of the Boys' various on-stage performances had been in wide circulation for nearly ten years. Every now and then there was a crackdown on these illegal tapes, but it was mostly for decorative reasons. (Q and Geordi actually enjoyed buying these tapes and listening to them. They respected their many fans.) There were all sorts of interesting variations on the tapes. One tape caught Jean-Luc singing a simplified version of "Shake Rattle and Roll." About this, famous rock critic Marc Greilus said in his mandarin way: "It's sung with the kind of accompaniment that Elvis used, a hysterical guitar and a soothing bass. But Jean-Luc Picard makes his little band use the same stately 4/4 time that Bill Haley used, not Elvis' fearful rush. And this dignified timing brings out the true menace of the original song: ‘I'm like a one-eyed cat peering in a seafood store.' Then Jean-Luc pauses and considers. ‘Yes, I'm like a one-eyed cat peering in a seafood store. I can look at you and tell you ain't no child no more.' My God. No wonder they wanted to lynch Elvis. ‘Get in the kitchen and rattle those pots and pans.' Only a fool would disobey Jean-Luc Picard. ‘Get in the kitchen and rattle those pots and pans,' he seethes. ‘Make my breakfast because I'm a hungry man.' Et puis, Jean-Luc, et puis? ‘I'm like a Mississippi bullfrog sitting on a hollow stump, I said I'm like a Mississippi bullfrog sitting on a hollow stump - I have so many lovers I don't know which way to jump.' When Jean-Luc sings these last strange lines, he sounds like Melville would sound if he sang Elvis songs. Amazed, furious, in love, intelligent, with all the great vast brew of surrealism in the American character. When Jean-Luc Picard speaks, he's an accidental myth whether he likes it or not. You can smell the prairies, you can see Audie Murphy on top of a Sherman tank in Italy, you can hear the doors creaking downstairs at the House of Usher, you can see the lissome hillbilly boy at the heart of American history gazing into the middle distance. Jean-Luc lifts his arms and the world's red meat trumpets in response; what you hear in Van Morrison when you're drunk, you can hear in Jean-Luc Picard when you're stone cold sober." Quark had hired some cheap and gifted filmmakers from a film school in Nashville to do a documentary on the Boys on tour. "These videos sell forever," he told the Boys. "It'll save wear and tear on you later." "Like Oralee," Q murmured. Jean-Luc slid his eyes over to Q and nodded. "I'm going to have these boys film it all," Quark went on. "Then we'll sort it out later." After that, he was flying back to France to meet Melinda. But he did not mention that. Actually, Jean-Luc had not changed at all. It was a marvel to see his nightly feral search for pussy. And now the sneaky cameras were catching all of it. In one scene, the Boys were rushing, sweating and elated, down a backstage corridor in Dallas after a powerhouse show. Fans were scattered all along the way. As Jean-Luc passed one little group, he tapped a slender young blond man on the chest and motioned with his head for the man to come with them. The young man gleamed with joy; Jean-Luc hadn't even looked him in the eye yet. Another time, the cameras caught Jean-Luc chatting up a different pretty-boy fan. The tall, broad-shouldered boy had his back to the camera. Jean-Luc reached out and put his hand on the boy's back; then he lifted the boy's tee shirt in a caress. The boy moved toward Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc leaned forward, and then he suddenly saw the camera. "Get that goddamned camera out of my face!" He was furious. But that scene stayed in the film; Jean-Luc saw no reason to get rid of it. Some of the scenes were sweeter. One showed Jean-Luc sitting on a hotel bed with Q beside him. They were looking at fan mail. Jean-Luc held up a hand-drawn picture of himself and Q. It was as big as a movie poster and showed a drawing of Jean-Luc was holding a dramatically reclining Q against a fiery red background. "Gone With the Boys!" had been lettered beneath it. They smiled at each other. Then Jean-Luc held up a comic book. "This one is called ‘The Only Comic Book You'll Ever Need about Jean-Luc and the Boys.'" He and Q smiled at it. Then Jean-Luc leafed through it. "This is pretty well done." "It's great, a real labor of love," Q said softly. "Lot of lonely people out there," Jean-Luc murmured as he thumbed the pages. "That's all right. I know what it means to be lonely." There was an awkward pause. Then Q moved closer to Jean-Luc - he wouldn't hold him because the camera was watching, but he clearly wanted to – "that's just because you're so evolved. I bet the first Cro-Magnon man was lonely too." Jean-Luc looked at Q who gazed back. "You educated bastard," Jean-Luc said in a low voice. The camera loved Q. The boys behind the camera followed Q everywhere asking him questions. And Q looked good on camera, warm and obliging. In one scene, he was in a lobby by himself. (Jean-Luc had just taken two girls upstairs. He had put on a show for them; now he wanted them to put on a little show for him.) Obviously one of the camera men had just asked Q about the name Magic Mountain Boys. "Well," Q said and paused. "One time Jean-Luc said we ought to call ourselves the Prisonyard Boys. But Will and . . . Data and Geordi said they had never been in prison. Jean-Luc said, everybody's in prison. And then we thought about being the Frosty Morn Boys. Because like the song says, ‘in Dixieland where I was born, early on one frosty morn.' We were all born on frosty morns. But that just wasn't right either." He seemed lost in reverie. Q was spending a lot of time on the phone managing business in Tennessee and elsewhere, but the only thing Jean-Luc ever asked about was Etienne. "Sebastiana told me he got up on all fours last night," Q told him. "Is that good or bad for babies?" Q smiled tenderly. "It's very good at his age. And he's got a toy he loves." "Some Floyd shit." Q quit smiling. "No, it's a little fuzzy lamb. Martine got it at Walmart." Nobody said anything. "You know what I want to do when this tour is over?" Q decided to change the subject. "I mean, everybody's doing well here. Just think of it. All our boys are doing well and Will and Worf have their family and Geordi and Data have all their science . . . stuff." He drew a deep breath. "I've been thinking about going back to India. But I don't know if I want to go to Nepal or back down South to Kerala." "What do you want to do that for?" "I don't know," Q sighed. "I just feel restless." "Me too." Jean-Luc admitted. "Come with me!" Q was trying to say it as if he had just thought of it. "I'd love for you to come with me. Please. We could mess around on the Himalayas!" Jean-Luc was grudgingly compliant. "At least if we go there, we won't run into Quark and Sisko on every street corner." The documentary caught everyone jamming late one night. Jean-Luc played the tambourine as he watched his brilliant musicians play New Orleans Dixieland, Duane Eddy, and Santana. The sly camera caught him excited in a way that most men in their fifties had lost years before, the wonderful hollows of his muscular face balancing the blackness of his hooded and slanted dark eyes, the beautiful domed oval of his head leaning into the music. When he saw the daily rushes, Q looked at that scene over and over. |
