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Chapter Text

Captain Janeway would love to say she was surprised by this turn of events. Really, she'd have even given up a coffee ration for an iota or two of shock if they were still in the Delta Quadrant (just the one ration though).

Reality as it was, when she opened the door to her quarters to find Q Junior sitting on her couch, eyes already wide and ready to pout, Kathryn just sighed. She plopped herself beside her godson and rubbed her fingers into the sides of her forehead. A headache formed anyway.

Some of the manners she'd instilled while Q was under her care in the Delta Quadrant must have stayed with him because the immortal young man waited until she dropped her fingers. "Alright. Go."

"He's completely overbearing! And controlling!" Q jumped up to start pacing. Kathryn smiled as she watched him gesture out - it was a very human thing to do after all. As were his street clothes - no Starfleet uniform in sight. "I mean, what's the point of my exploring the infinite universe if HE makes all the decisions! We went to the same three systems over and over again and -"

Kathryn let the boy rant for a good long while - at least five minutes - before she cleared her throat. Q turned back to her with sunken shoulders and puckered lips. Even his curly hair looked a little slumped.

"Can't I stay with you for a while Aunt Kathy?"

Her eyebrows raised, "You want to stay with me?" She glanced around at her apartment.

It was larger than her quarters on Voyager, but it was still just the two bedrooms. The kitchen didn't even warrant its it's own room, just a few cabinets that ran along the wall beside the replicator. "You are aware I'm assigned to Starfleet Headquarters right now? No adventures. No space. There's very little excitement."

Q shrugged and slunk into the couch beside her. His eyes widened a fraction, "Please, Aunt Kathy? Anything's better than another trip to the Urus system." His lower lip stuck out, "I'll be good. I promise."

"I highly doubt that," Kathryn snorted, but she patted his cheek nonetheless. Q smiled at the gesture, leaned into it even. "You can stay." She sighed as he jumped up in exclamation.

Immortal Omniscient Being or not, the Young Q was essentially the same as any other teenager. He made a dramatic show of jumping up and down and talking a mile a minute about everything there was to do on earth.

Exactly like a teenager. That also meant he needed something to do while she was working or he'd drive her nuts for sure.

"If you'd like, I'm sure the Academy would let you sit in on a few classes while you're here." Q's head lulled and Kathryn smiled at him. "Think of it like diplomatic training, might come in handy someday."

Q grumbled out an agreement. "Yes, Aunt Kathy."

She stood then and gave him a quick tour of her apartment - mostly unnecessary as she was positive he'd already snooped around, but it gave her a chance to lay some ground rules. Namely - no unnecessary use of powers and no joyriding.

The end of the tour brought the encounter's first real shock.

"Thanks Aunt Kathy!" Q gave her a swift hug and then immediately flounced onto her guest bed when she opened the door to the room. There, he promptly fell asleep. He hadn't even snapped his fingers to change into pajamas. Just…closed his eyes and went to sleep in his jeans and sweatshirt.

Even when he'd temporarily had his powers revoked, Kathryn had never seen Q sleep. Or his father for that matter. And she'd checked on her godson at all hours of the day that week. Like everyone, Q looked more peaceful in his sleep with the lines on his face all smoothed out. It struck her then that most of Q's smiles that night had been tight.

Kathryn instructed the computer to turn the lights to low. Q shifted, pulled the blanket closer. She ruffled his hair slightly before padding out of the room, "Goodnight, Q." Once she was in the living room, she placed her hands on her hips and waited.

"Kathy!" Q Senior was just as magnanimous as usual. Kathryn glared him down, per usual as well. "I see Junior's come running to you for help again."

"You were the one asking for my help last time, Q, not him." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "Now, why don't you explain why he's running away from you?"

Q held a hand to his chest, gasping, "Run away?? From me? Preposterous!" Janeway's eye twitched. "Alright! We might have had a slight disagreement."

Her headache returned full force.

It took Janeway two hours to get the Elder Q out of her apartment, sans son. He'd hemmed, he'd hawed, he'd snapped a literal donkey into her apartment, but he'd finally acquiesced that Junior needed a break and Janeway was the best option.

"Not like I'm his godmother or anything…" Janeway groused to herself as she started to undress. She threw her uniform jacket over the back of a chair.

These quarters had been given to her by Starfleet when Voyager returned. She still hadn't managed to really move in - the walls were blank, the closet empty but for those items she'd needed after her assignment to Headquarters.

Staring at the lack of non-replicated clothing in her room, Janeway made a decision. If Q was moving in, so was she.

"We're going shopping once I get back from work today," Kathryn enjoyed the way Q's face slackened as he turned from scowling at her replicator to look at her the next morning. She smirked, sipped her coffee, "This place needs a little color and comfort. Your visit is the perfect excuse to add some."

Q rolled his eyes and grabbed his bowl of cereal - not sugary, because Kathryn had set parameters on the machine before going to bed last night. He didn't snap his fingers as he begrudgingly dug in and Kathryn felt a small bubble of triumph.

"Do you think I could pick up some clothes while we're out then?" Q asked, mid-bite. Janeway stared him down and he swallowed before speaking, "Your replicator doesn't have many options."

Janeway eyed Q's jeans and sweatshirt. "I'm surprised you don't just…" she snapped her fingers "…yourself some." Q fidgeted, fiddled with his spoon. "Q?"

"…I'm…uh…" He ran a hand through his hair. Janeway set her coffee down. Q's head shot up, big grin in place and shrug on his shoulder. "I'm just respecting your rules, Aunt Kathy. You said no powers, so. No powers!" Q gave her a thumbs up.

Janeway lowered her chin, eyes narrowed. "Try again." Q raised his hands to his chest, insulted. "You're not nearly as convincing as you think you are."

"I don't really think I'm that good actually..." Q sighed and his entire persona fell away. A slight frown and a furrowed brow were all that was left.

"Q?"

"It's nothing, Aunt Kathy, promise. I just don't want to use my powers right now." Q looked her straight in the eye this time. The pupils trembled just a touch and Janeway caught the wobble of his lips.

"Fine," Janeway drawled, eyebrows low. Q let out a breath and returned to his cereal. "I hope you'll tell me, eventually." Q kept his eyes diverted, but his cheerful little mask returned before she left for work.

Janeway didn't buy that any better than she had either of his explanations. Q was running away from more than just his father, of that she was certain. And, maybe even a little shocked. The day officially warranted a second pot of coffee.

Chapter Text

Seven of Nine was 97.6% of the way through her regeneration cycle when the communication panel began to beep in her quarters. Only two individuals were put through directly during her regeneration cycle so she answered promptly.

"Captain." Seven greeted Janeway with a slight nod and a raised eyebrow. She recognized the twitch of her captain's lips as amusement, but she also noted dark circles appearing beneath her eyes.

"Morning Seven," Janeway smiled, slow and soft, "Sorry to wake you." Seven nodded her head again. Her lips shifted upwards. "But this isn't a work call. I wanted to give you a heads up, Q is here on earth. Junior. He's staying with me for a bit."

Seven frowned, deeply. "That is not ideal. On his last appearance, Icheb's productivity diminished considerably and Icheb's chance of danger is much higher when in the proximity of- "

"Yes, I thought you might be a little worried about the two of them spending time together again." Janeway held up her palms to stop Seven's thorough review of Q's less than stellar track record. "I'll let you decide how to handle their contact, Icheb is your responsibility."

"I appreciate the notification." Seven tried to keep her face neutral, but she could tell some of her emotions had leaked into her expression by Janeway's sigh before she disconnected. With the comm station now quiet, Seven turned to the bathroom to prepare for her day.

When she arrived in the common area of her apartment, it was empty, and it remained so as she prepared breakfast. Icheb did not make an appearance until the eggs were being transferred to a plate. More accurately, he stumbled out of his room with his hair stuck up and the imprint of a pad on his face.

"You're meant to sleep on pillows Icheb, not your data pad." Seven reminded him, a smile tugging on her face at Icheb's grumbling. "How was your rest?"

"Adequate," Icheb said as he slid into his chair at the table. Seven set a plate of food in front of him as Icheb attempted to flatten his hair.

Sleep was still foreign to Seven, though she understood the concept. Since giving her his cortical node Icheb required rest every night and regeneration every two days.

Chakotay informed her that Icheb was still transitioning into this new cycle when she mentioned her concern. Voyager's return to Earth had required further adjustments - Seven herself had trouble regenerating when the sun was up.

"Were you able to finish the required work for your classes today?" Seven asked as she sat across from him with her own food.

Icheb nodded, "I've found this method of knowledge acquisition less optimal than that which we utilized on Voyager." Were he not speaking in his usual tone, Seven might have mistaken Icheb's behavior for whining.

"It is less individual," Seven conceded. Icheb nodded, mouth turned down in a frown. "Is there anything that I can assist you with?" Icheb shook his head.

"I can handle it." Icheb said quickly, brows furrowed as he dug into his food. Seven inclined her head, but made no comment. She decided not to divulge the arrival of Q. Icheb needed to focus, and an omniscient teenager would hardly help matters.

-.-.-

Once Icheb departed for the Academy, Seven headed in to Starfleet Headquarters. The senior officers of Voyager were already gathering. They were nearing the one year anniversary of Voyager's return to the alpha quadrant and the debriefs were finally winding down.

"Seven," B'Elanna Torres yawned with a wave. She handed Seven a pad as the woman took her seat beside the exhausted mother. "Today's agenda is packed - borg, talaxi, AND the Klingon cult."

"You're just annoyed that you'll have to talk about something besides the warp core for once." Tom drawled from B'Elanna's other side, a smirk on his lips and dark circles prominent under his eyes.

B'Elanna snorted, "You're the one that has to explain to your father why you accepted a challenge from a Klingon."

"I doubt the Admiral will be surprised." Seven stated, earning a smile from B'Elanna and an offended squawk from Tom.

"How's Icheb doing?" Chakotay asked as he arrived. There was genuine concern in his eyes as he took his seat. It caught B'Elanna, Tom, and Harry's attention and the three looked to Seven expectantly.

Seven inclined her head to side, "He is…adjusting. Still." She pursed her lips, "I do not believe he enjoys his academy classes, but I am unsure of the reason."

"I can think of a few," B'Elanna muttered, brows lowering on her forehead as she scowled at the table. Seven turned her head to look at the other woman.

"Alright, let's get started." Admiral Paris cut off the conversation as he entered the room, Janeway at his side. Seven frowned at the interruption, but straightened in her seat as the Admiral opened his pad. "First up, Stardate… 54518.2. The kuvah'magh incident?"

B'Elanna groaned and Janeway began massaging her temples.

-.-.-

Icheb kept his head down and his fingers typing throughout his classes. He had learned already that asking questions merely brought undesirable attention from his classmates. It was preferable for him to find the answers himself, even if it did take longer.

"Any questions?" The professor of his last class, an Engineering Diagnostics course, looked directly at Icheb. Chief O'Brien had heavily lidded green eyes focused intently on him. Icheb blinked, but remained silent. "Alright then," O'Brien sighed, shoulders slumping slightly as he gestured out, "class dismissed."

Several students approached the professor for clarifications and comments even as the man made shooing noises towards the door. Icheb quickly packed his pad and stylus away so he could duck out of the classroom before the chief could call him back, as the man had done twice before since Icheb had stopped asking questions.

Chief O'Brien's concern was unique amongst the staff that Icheb had encountered. An outlier and, therefore, not something that Icheb should become accustomed to if he wished to successfully complete his Starfleet training.

"Itchy!"

The exclamation from the young man outside the classroom brought stares. Mostly focused on Q as his limbs flailed out. Icheb didn't even blink, he merely walked up to Q, eyebrow raised expectantly.

The omniscient teenager stood from his seat on the bench outside with a dramatic sigh and trudging footsteps, "Do you know how *long* your classes are?"

"6.23 hours," Icheb responded automatically. He enjoyed the quirk of Q's lips at the words. "Chief O'Brien finished his class early today."

Q rolled his eyes, "Not early enough! I only have two hours to properly annoy you before Aunt Kathy gets back from work."

"You're staying with Captain Janeway?" Icheb quirked his head to the side. Q nodded. The other cadets around them not so subtly ground to halt.

"Yup!" Q wrapped an arm around Icheb's neck and began to drag him away from the prying eyes of his suddenly attentive classmates. "The old man was bugging me, so I'm earth bound for the foreseeable future." Q gestured out in a curve towards the area around them.

Icheb raised a brow once more, "I do not believe Seven will be pleased to hear that." He was, in fact, quite positive she would be displeased. But Icheb hadn't managed to make a single friend on Earth so far. He smiled, "What should we do then?"

"My first instinct is always to cause trouble," Q drawled, slipping his arm back to his side as he turned to walk backwards. He thrust his hands into his pants pocket and thrust his head back in the direction he was already walking in, "I saw a Ferengi bar on my way over."

Q smirked, eyes sparkling. Icheb swallowed as he stared up at them. He nodded. "That's acceptable." Q's face broke out into a giant grin.

-.-.-

A trill beeping interrupted Seven's description of the nebula that had obscured the borg transwarp hub. Tom visibly startled awake at the noise.

Janeway held up her hand in apology as she flipped open the emergency communicator from her pocket. The trilling stopped, "Janeway."

"Captain." Icheb's voice was quiet and accompanied by the sound of loud music and yelling. "I am sorry to disturb you, but…" Something shattered. "I believe your presence would be beneficial."

Janeway looked at the ceiling, "What has Q done now?"

"Uhm…actually," Icheb's words were barely a murmur. "It's more about what he's not doing..."

"Captain Janeway?" Admiral Paris raised an eyebrow and Janeway turned back to look at the table. Seven was staring intently, no doubt she could hear Icheb's voice, if not his words. The admiral himself had a furrowed brow.

"Send me your location, Icheb, I'll be right there." Janeway flipped her comm device closed. She cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, Admiral, but it seems my godson is in a spot of trouble."

Seven's eyebrow rose, "Icheb is with Q?"

"Wait, Q's on earth?!" B'Elanna's hands banged on the table as she stood up abruptly.

"Junior is, yes." Janeway nodded to B'Elanna. Her glower softened. Janeway faced Seven with a nervous smile, "And yes, it would appear he and Icheb are together."

"And in trouble." Tom added, chuckling to himself.

Harry sighed, "Again."

Admiral Paris' brow lowered even more, "Is this the same child that was going to be turned into an amoeba?" Tom snorted, Chakotay nodded.

"If we could adjourn for the day?" Janeway asked on her way to the door. The admiral barely had time to dismiss them before Seven and Janeway transported away.

Tom leaned towards Harry, "How much you want to bet this inspires a little rebellious streak in our young Icheb?"

"No bets!" Harry raised his hands in the ear, grinning wide. B'Elanna rolled her eyes.

"Seven's got enough to worry about with Icheb as is," Chakotay frowned at the two younger men.

B'Elanna frowned, lips pursed, "I bet."

Chapter Text

Icheb scowled at the communicator in his hand before slipping it back into Q's pocket. Q himself was slumped over the table, head in his arms. Neither of them had actually had any alcohol, Icheb had made sure of that, but ten minutes ago Q had put his head down and hadn't brought it back up.

"This is an inappropriate place to sleep," Icheb jostled his shoulder, attempting once more to wake the other young man. It had no affect.

The Ferengi bartender and a few of the other patrons had started to notice the situation. Not a one wore a Starfleet uniform and Icheb could tell by his rising heart rate that he was no longer comfortable in this situation.

"You two alright?" The bartender approached him with a grin, rows of teeth on display. Icheb nodded, forcing himself to remain calm. The Ferengi glanced at Q, his hands went wide, "How about another round of sparkling clavisoa juice?"

A transporter beam interrupted the bustle of the bar, silencing both the bartender and the patrons as Janeway and Seven appeared, Starfleet badges on full display. The bartender's grin immediately dropped.

"He won't wake up." Icheb said as soon as Janeway turned in their direction. She walked past the bartender as Icheb stood up to gesture emphatically at Q. Janeway placed a hand on Q's shoulder. No amount of shaking woke him. "I tried that."

"Of course," Janeway smiled at Icheb, but her eyes were tight. She glanced at the empty glasses on the table.

It was Seven who asked, "What were you two drinking?" Her brows were even and her mouth a thin line. Icheb fidgeted under her obvious disappointment.

"Just juice," Icheb said, head tilted and brow furrowed.

"I would never serve alcohol to minors," the Ferengi bartender pipped up, looking nervously at the pips on Janeway's uniform. "I can assure you, what ever is the matter with your young man, it wasn't anything from my establishment."

Janeway offered him a quick nod, "Of course."

Icheb ignored the exchange, fingers digging into his palms as he spoke, words frantic. "Q wasn't tired before, and his heart rate seemed normal when I tried to check, but I don't have a tricorder to be sure."

"Not sure that'd tell you much anyway. He may look human, but that doesn't mean much, not with him." Janeway ran a hand through Q's hair. She was openly frowning now.

Q startled, drawing in a deep breath as the lights flickered up and down the street. Icheb's shoulders visibly relaxed as Q's head rose up.

"Q?" Janeway kept a hand on the brunet's shoulder as he blinked at her. "Are you alright?"

The Ferengi bartender snorted, "Humanoid psychic makes the lights flicker and Starfleet frets." He clapped one of his patrons on the shoulder on the way back to the bar. "Doesn't that just sum up the whole state of the quadrant?"

A round of laughter rose up and Q visibly flinched before he shrugged Janeway's hand away, "I'm fine, Aunt Kathy." He plastered on a smile, teeth bright. "Just too much fun is all."

Icheb snorted this time. Q's eyes snapped to him, brows furrowed. Janeway chuckled, "I don't believe you're convincing anyone with that line tonight."

"But I'm fine!" Q pouted. His bottom lip stuck out and his eyes widened. Janeway cajoled him up and out of his seat. Q stumbled on his first step. Janeway caught him with a smirk.

"I can see that." She wrapped an arm around Q's waist to help support him. Janeway pursed her lips when she found herself supporting most of Q's weight.

Seven inclined her head to the side. In front of her, Icheb mirrored the gesture without realizing and the fact that Q didn't make a joke about it worried Janeway more than his inability to support himself.

"Why don't you two get going?" Janeway leveled her eyes on Seven, who raised a brow. "I think Q and I need to have a talk. Privately." Seven nodded.

"As you wish," Seven nodded and gestured towards the door, "Let's go, Icheb. I'm sure you have studying to do before class tomorrow."

Icheb frowned. He looked from Q to Seven and then back.

"I'm fine, Itchy!" Q grinned as Icheb's cheeks reddened, "No sense in us both getting lectured now." Q nodded towards the door, "We'll catch up later."

"If you're sure." Icheb said. Q nodded again. Icheb was still frowning as he walked out the door, but Seven corralled him out all the same.

"So…" Q drawled, looking up at Janeway with a big grin, "How much trouble am I in?"

Janeway tapped her comm badge, "Request for immediate transport to Starfleet Medical for two." She looked down at Q with narrowed eyes as the young man's jaw dropped, "We're about to find out."

As the two beamed out, the Ferengi bartender cackled, "Kid should've seen that one coming." He elbowed the patron at the end of his bar. "Whatcha wanna bet the kid comes back?"

-.-.-

Q looked at the sterile walls of Starfleet Medical with a visible frown and whined dramatically as Janeway shuffled him onto a biobed. It was a private room and when the door swooshed open, the director walked in with arched brows.

"Captain Janeway, what's happened?" Dr. Beverly Crusher walked up to the bed as Janeway turned to face her. "Admiral Paris said there was a Q with you?"

"Yes," Janeway raised a hand to rest on Q's shoulder, "This is my godson." She looked at him as she drawled out, "He just passed out and caused a small power surge when he woke up." Q rolled his eyes.

Beverly hummed as she stood closer, "Were you feeling dizzy before you passed out?" She pulled out a tricorder even as Q leaned away from her.

"I'm fine!" Q huffed. Janeway scoffed. "I am Aunt Kathy! I just fell asleep."

"And couldn't be woken up." Janeway added, leveling her brows on him. "Be honest Q, you've been off since you got here."

Q fidgeted. Dr. Crusher took the opportunity to scan him thoroughly. "Why don't you lay back so I can take some more readings?" Q frowned at her, brows furrowing as he crossed his arms. "The sooner you let me check you over, the sooner I can tell Captain Janeway you're as fine as you claim."

"Well, alright," Q plopped backwards with a flourish. Beverely traded a smile with Janeway as the would-be teenager fussed about getting comfortable.

The scanners rose up on either side to arch over his body under Dr. Crusher's command. Q eyed them warily and Janeway moved to stand by his head.

"I'm fine, Aunt Kathy, you'll see," Q bit his lip as he watched the warbling light of the scanner move back and forth.

Dr. Crusher's forehead grew more wrinkled as she watched the readings roll over the display. She started another round of tests immediately after the first. Her brows knit together and her eyes narrowed.

"Doctor?" Janeway raised a brow, her hands moving to grip the edge of the biobed when the scanners finally slid back down the sides.

"It seems your internal organs are in flux, Q. One second you've got three lungs and no liver and the next you've got nothing but a heart and tonsils."

Janeway looked down at Q's face. He didn't immediately meet her gaze. The strong chin, curly hair, and everything in between were the same as they were the night before when he'd asked her to stay. But his color was a few shades lighter, at least. Perhaps a bit yellower too?

Q bit his lip as his eyes finally dragged up to meet Janeway's. He shrugged, "Staying human is a lot more work than you'd think." He flashed a bright smile, too tight to be natural, "I have to contain quite a lot of awesome in this body ya know."

"Is that why you're not using your powers?" Janeway asked him, voice soft and soothing. She ran a hand through his hair. Q moved in to the touch. He didn't answer. "That's why you're tired?"

As if on queue, he yawned. Janeway shook her head as he turned on his side, "I'm perfectly fine, Aunt Kathy. A regular, run of the mill teenage Q. I promise."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Janeway prodded with her hand as Q blinked rapidly. Before her eyes she watched his dark circles appear and the lights began to flicker again.

"Is that the same as what happened before?" Dr. Crusher frowned up at the ceiling before looking down at the boy curling his fingers into Janeway's uniform as she sat down on the bed beside his head.

"It happened when he woke up, yes." Janeway didn't bother trying to wake Q after an initial attempt. "He slept in my quarters last night without issue. I would have noticed a power fluctuation."

Beverly hummed as she focused her scanner on Q's head and glared at her tricorder. "Annoyingly, I can't really tell you if he's right or wrong about this being normal for a Q."

"You have experience with Q offspring," Janeway stated. "I double checked the records this morning, you examined Amanda Rogers on the Enterprise. Q should be in a similar enough stage of life."

"Give or take a few centuries?" Beverely chuckled and shook her head, "Even then, Amanda Rogers was born as a human daughter to two Q, they were masquerading as humans."

Janeway sighed and looked down at Q, "And Junior here was the first Q born to the Continuum." She raised her head to meet Dr. Crusher's eyes, "Not sure what that entails, but I doubt it looks anything like a human birth."

"I'll pull up Amanda's files though, I might be able to find something from her years at the Academy." Beverely turned towards the door, eyes still focused on the readings displayed on her tricorder.

"Our Doctor on Voyager examined Q when he stayed with us, those records might be helpful as well." Janeway called after her.

Dr. Crusher's nose wrinkled for a moment before she nodded, "I'll talk to Admiral Paris about having the EMH records released to me immediately."

"The Doctor's been confined to Voyager, it'd be quicker to ask him yourself." Janeway drawled. She ignored the way Dr. Crusher's shoulders tensed before she finally agreed.

Janeway focused on Q then, with the room empty and the boy still unconscious. His head was plastered to the bio bed, a sheen of sweet over his body despite a distinct lack of warmth or chill to his skin.

"You're a very bad liar, Q," Janeway leaned down to whisper in his ear. She ran a hand down his back, rubbing slow circles as if to sooth him. "That's probably not ideal for a Q."

The lights began to flicker again and Q's eyes fluttered open. There was no gasping breath this time, though she noticed he did take a long while to exhale. Janeway watched as his eyes zipped around the room before looking up at her.

"Feeling better?" Janeway asked as Q made the arduous quest of three inches to move his head from the biobed to her lap. He curled around her like a puppy and Janeway pursed her lips to keep from laughing.

"I'm fine," Q repeated with a huff. He grumbled something and Janeway cuffed his ear. "Ow!" She did laugh this time. "I'm just tired," Q said with as much confidence as she was sure he could muster. Janeway was fairly positive he'd been more enthused about becoming an amoeba.

The door whooshed back open and Dr. Crusher returned with a pinched expression. Janeway caught sight of the security team just outside the door and frowned.

"Do you know what zeta waves are Q?" Dr. Crusher asked him as she walked over to the bed. Janeway looked down at the bleary eyed teen. His eyes were unfocused as he nodded. Dr. Crusher's lips twitched up, "Your brain waves are moving exceptionally slowly while you're unconcious, especially for a human. We'd consider it a sign of brain trauma."

"Q aren't human," he murmured and he shuffled closer to Janeway, body folding into a tight ball. It almost seemed like he was trying to fit his entire person in her lap.

Beverly shook her head, tried not to think of Wesley, "That's true. You and the only other Q I've examined, Amanda Rogers, you both have considerably higher brain activity than normal humans."

"So?" The bite to Q's voice was sharper than Janeway had ever heard it and she could feel his fingers twisting in the fabric of her uniform.

"I certainly can't say I know what it means for a Q to sleep…" Dr. Crusher met Janeway's eyes, "…when you were on Voyager though, the Doctor said you slept an average of one hour every night. Even when forced into human form like that your brain activity remained elevated."

Q's eyes scrunched closed. He was tense beneath Janeway's hand when it paused on his shoulder, "Do you know what's wrong Q?"

The computers in the room began to beep frantically and several lights flashed red. Two security officers entered the room. Janeway eyed them up. They carried phasers, not rifles, and they lowered them when Janeway shook her head.

Dr. Crusher had her tricorder out, it trilled angrily. "His brain waves are erratic!" The tricorder flew out of her hand to smash against a wall. An alarm sounded in the hallway.

Janeway looked up at Dr. Crusher, who was staring blankly at her tricorder as it sat in pieces on the ground. She saw the security officers' fingers twitching. Without another thought Janeway scooted further onto the biobed and pulled Q firmly up and in to her arms. She rocked him, slowly, as he huddled within her embrace.

"Please don't be mad." Q said into her shoulder. He clung to her, eyes still firmly shut. "I'm sorry." His whole body was shaking like a leaf. Janeway shushed him lightly, stroked the back of his neck. She could feel his heart beat. A wild tremor beneath her palm.

Dr. Crusher appeared behind him with another tricorder. "You need to calm down, Q," Beverly spoke in soothing tones. "You're blood pressure, your heart rate, they're both extremely high…and your heart can't seem to pick a spot in your chest." She offered a tense smile and a short chuckle, but Q continued to shake.

"Sorry." Q whispered into the thick fabric of Janeway's jacket. His fingers dug into her arms as Dr. Crusher moved the tricorder's sensor around his head. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry. Don't be mad."

Janeway looked up at Dr. Crusher, resting her chin on Q's head. The two shared a look and then Dr. Crusher turned to send the security officers out of the room.

"No one's mad, Q," Janeway spoke softly as she rubbed a hand down Q's back, "but I am worried." Q released a deep breath as she moved her hands in circular motions again. "What's going on?"

He opened his mouth, but Janeway clucked her tongue.

"If you say you're fine I swear -"

"I don't know." Q's words were quiet, and fast, but Janeway caught them all the same.

Janeway paused her rocking motion for a brief second. Q tensed. She resumed them immediately. Her young charge sank into her embrace, his knees rose up to tuck between their chests as he lean into her entirely.

"The Continuum doesn't know either." Q admitted into the void of silence that had formed. "My father tried to hide it from me, but I just…know. Whenever I wonder something, I just know it."

"And that's not normal?" Janeway asked. Her lips quirked up, "I thought Q were suppose to be all-knowing?"

Q chuckled, a watery sob escaped, "All together, maybe, not singularly." He looked up at Janeway, bending his neck back. His eyes finally opened, "They're afraid of me now."

"Well," Janeway sighed dramatically, "That sounds exactly like the Continuum we all know and despise." Q chuckled again. His chin fell back to his chest and he curled smaller against Janeway. She wrapped both arms around his body.

The lights and alarms calmed and the room plunged into darkness. Janeway didn't pause in her attempts to sooth Q. When Dr. Crusher returned, thankfully alone, the lights finally flickered back to life.

Q didn't budge from his position. Janeway didn't make him.

Dr. Crusher stepped up to them with her tricorder. "I'd like to do a full body scan when you're ready, Q, but your heart appears to be staying in place now so we're on the right track." Q nodded once, short and robotic.

It took another ten minutes before he finally stopped shaking. Five more before he finally lay flat for the full scan. Q yawned afterwards, a smile plastered on his face, "Well, that was dramatic!"

-.-.-

Janeway didn't have any illusions about Starfleet's interest in Q. The security team that was waiting, none too subtly, outside her quarters when she and Q arrived home merely solidified what she already knew.

No one below the rank of Commander was cleared to know anything about the Continuum - every enlisted and ranked member of Starfleet who encountered a Q had been debriefed and ordered not to speak of it.

"Even Icheb and uh…the girl? Uh… Naomi?" Q tilted his head, nose scrunched up, "That seems kinda silly."

"Your father has caused quite a stir over the years. Captains Picard and Sisko both had run ins with him, and he's never been shy about using his powers." Janeway smirked as she watched Q huff.

He crossed his arms, "Figures." He leaned back in a chair at her dining table, "He's always telling me to use my powers responsibly and he's nothing if not a hypocrite." There was venom in his voice and Janeway could see literal steam rising from his head.

"You can't control them, can you?" Janeway sighed, raising her fingers to her head as the color drained from Q's face. "Your powers." Q pursed his lips and his eyes flitted about. "Don't lie, Q, I'm really not in the mood."

Q sagged in his chair and his eyes settled on his shoes, "No. They've been…well, I told you, I just know stuff now, and my powers are like that too. They just…do stuff, without me even trying or anything."

"That's why you're attempting not to use them?" Janeway asked, resting her chin in her palm as she leaned forward on the table. Q's eyes flickered up to hers and then he nodded. "Well." Janeway sighed and sat up, "This certainly isn't going to make Starfleet any less nervous about your appearance here."

"You mean…I can stay?" Q straightened in his seat, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "But, but… I thought…"

Janeway shook her head as she stood. She stretched her arms and turned her head to crack her neck, "You can stay as long as you need to Q." She ruffled his hair as she leaned down to meet his gaze, "But no more secrets, understood?"

"Yes, Aunt Kathy," Q nodded frantically, lips stretching into the first genuine smile she'd seen on him so far.

With a shake of her head, Janeway pointed at the door, "That security team will be with you the whole time though, Q, so don't do anything your father would."

"I'll be the best behaved Q in this realm of existence." Q beamed at her. Janeway snorted. She almost felt bad for the security team.

Chapter Text

There were few things more boring than being followed by two stone-faced security officers. And they were officers, Q was very excited to realize he warranted not one, but two lieutenants.

“Do they really have to follow us everywhere?” Q whined as Janeway led him into a third boutique. The first two had been tedious – things like sheets, and dishware – and there was only so much joy one could get picking out obnoxiously colored coffee cups only for them to be vetoed.

Janeway chuckled at him as he dragged his feet behind her, “This store might have something for you, you wanted to get some clothes right?”

She gestured towards the racks of plain clothes. Every single one in a neutral tone – black, grey, brown, beige. Q blanched at the muted reds, unsure how anyone could make a vibrant color so… boring. Even the patterned jackets were entirely neutral in tone!

“I thought humans were all about individuality and expression!” Q pouted dramatically as he held up one of the shirts that Janeway herself had just taken into a dressing room.

"Not a fan of anything here I'm guessing?" Janeway quirked a brow as she exited the dressing room. Grey shirt, black pants, and a red jacket.

"No." Q scrunched up his face at her selections, gesturing wildly, "You might as well be wearing your uniform!" She grinned at him.

"What can I say?" She grabbed his chin in an affectionate manner, "Captain is just my personality." Q grinned and she patted his cheek, "We can go somewhere else for your clothes. What are you thinking?"

With a shrug, Q leaned on one of the racks of clothing, "Something less boring?"

One of the security officers snorted by the door. Janeway turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. They cleared their throat as Q began to laugh.

“See! Even they know you need to include more color in your life Aunt Kathy,” Q reached for one of the patterned jackets. It had all her colors still, but they were at least in fun shapes. “What about this? It’s slightly less boring.”

Janeway sighed and took the jacket. She switched it out for her red one and puckered her lips, “Not bad.” She looked in a mirror, turning. “I’ll take it.” She placed it and the red one on the counter, along with a few more grey and black pieces.

Q rolled his eyes at her. He leaned against the counter, half his body folded over the top as Janeway discussed having her things delivered to her residence via beaming or messenger. It was an extra charge for beaming.

“You have debriefs after this,” Q deadpanned, rolling so he was now laying back against the counter and looking at the ceiling, “And I for one will not be lounging around the place when I have a whole planet to explore!”

“Beaming it is then,” Janeway nodded to the shopkeeper, who was eyeing Q with slight disdain. She turned to the security personnel next, “And you two, I trust you’ll keep him from leaving the city hmm?”

“They’ll try!” Q sang before either lieutenant could respond. Janeway sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Q stood up, rolling his neck before grinning at Janeway, “Don’t worry Aunt Kathy, I’m only joking.” He shrugged, “Unless I can convince Icheb to help me steal a shuttle pod again.”

Janeway narrowed her eyes on him, “You really are bored aren’t you?” He nodded smugly, “Well, just imagine how much more bored you’ll be if I let Starfleet lock you in an observation room like they wanted to do last night?”

Q frowned, shoulders falling, “That’s mean, Aunt Kathy.”

“You promised to be on your best behavior,” Janeway pointed a finger at him, bopping his nose, “I expect you to honor that.” He nodded mutely and she led him from the store.

The security officers followed behind at a respectful distance as they weaved through the early morning crowds towards another store. This one had an overly stylized sign and their main lights were dimmed low. Colorful neon lights ran along the ground like a rainbow.

“Now,” Janeway rested her hands on her hips, “If you can’t find something you like in here, I’ll be shocked.” Q wandered the aisles with one brow quirked up and the other eye wide. “I’m told this store is quite popular with your Earth equivalent peers.”

“Are you saying this place is for teenagers?” Q drawled as he paused before a wall of t-shirts. He pointed at one, grinning, “Because I bet Lieutenant Paris would love that one.”

Janeway looked up at it, shaking her head, “I don’t know that you’ve disproven my point, but that shirt certainly fits your personality.” An hour later when Q arrived at Starfleet Academy, he got just as many confused stares for his shirt as he did the security officers flanking him.

“Icheb!” Q called out as soon as he caught sight of the former borg. Icheb’s head popped up, eyes scrunching up as Q approached.

“Does your shirt say… ‘Starfleet’s Problem’ on it?” Icheb tilted his head, the pad in his hand long forgotten as he looked over the graphic tshirt. The words were superimposed over a Starfleet Emblem and it was all set over what appeared to Icheb to be a poor imitation of a nebula.

“Aunt Kathy thought it was appropriate,” Q grinned.

Icheb glanced over his shoulder at the two security officers. His eyes flickered from one to the other. His brow quirked up, “It would appear that she is correct.”

“I figured I’d join you for class,” Q asked, folding his arms behind his head as he fell in to step with Icheb, “If you don’t mind.” Icheb inclined his head.

“Are you feeling better today?” Icheb looked back at his pad, but he did not scroll down. Q rolled his eyes. “If you were fine, Captain Janeway would not have felt it necessary to take you to Starfleet Medical.”

Q groaned, “You know about that?” Icheb looked at Q out of the corner of his eyes. “Fine, fine, it’s just some weird Q stuff. I’m sort of… figuring it out as I go along.”

Immediately, Icheb’s head came up again, eyes narrowed, “Figuring it out?” He tilted his head, “That implies that you are not aware of the cause and have no current solutions.”

“Don’t be so negative!” Q shoved Icheb playfully, barely moving the other teen at all.

“As you are often overly optimistic,” Icheb drawled, “I find it useful to remind you of reality. Often.” Q huffed. Behind them, one of the security officers snickered.

-.-.-

Three classes, and most of the day down the drain, Q was barely keeping his eyes open as Icheb schlepped all across campus. Diplomacy. Ethics. Xenolingistic Considerations for First Contacts.

“Are all of your courses so boring?” Q whined, forehead pressed firmly into Icheb’s shoulder as he slouched against his friend.

Icheb continued reading his pad without even a flick of his eye in Q’s direction.

A thought hit Q and he sat up. They were sitting in the mess hall, neither of them touching any of the food they’d grabbed from the line. Q turned in his seat to look at his security detail, “Did either of you have to take these classes? Are they required or something?”

“No,” the one who kept snickering at Q’s pain pipped up. They both looked sideways at Icheb, “Your friend here has one of the toughest course loads I’ve ever seen.”

“I only have four classes today,” Icheb droned, narrowing his eyes on his pad.

Q smirked, “And how many do you have tomorrow?”

“3.” Icheb set his pad down, straightening in his seat. He reached for the protein bar on his tray, “Most of my classes are only twice a week, so I am able to take considerably more than I had expected.”

The snickering returned and the other security officer cleared their throat roughly, obviously hiding some sort of laugh. Q turned back to Icheb, pushing his face deep into his personal bubble, “I better not have to listen to your Kirk presentation again.”

“I completed all of my history courses while on Voyager,” Icheb huffed, biting into his protein bar with considerable force. Q grabbed one of the fruit from his own tray and began to eat.

At the table behind them, the security officers whispered amongst themselves. Both Q and Icheb pretended they couldn’t hear the two debating about which of them was odder.

“My next class is one you’ll enjoy,” Icheb said as he rose from the table. Q followed him. “Chief O’Brien is very thorough and if I recall correctly you enjoyed your Engineering rotation with Lieutenant Torres the most.”

“Is Chief O’Brien going to let me play with a warp core?” Q perked up, nearly skipping as they left the mess hall. Icheb pinned him with a sharp look, “That’s a no.”

Icheb shook his head, “It is an Engineering Diagnostic course. We look at all manner of things, so… he might. Today is the lab section.”

They were not, in fact, playing with warp cores that day. As Icheb settled in to his usual seat, Chief O’Brien was placing holographic projector chips on each table. Q pouted as he took the chair beside Icheb.

“Brought a friend have you Icheb?” O’Brien asked as he came around to his side of the room. He handed them both their chips, “I don’t remember having any new enrollees.”

“Aunt Kathy thinks I’ll cause ‘less problems’ if I’m suitably entertained here at the academy,” Q leaned back in his chair, sardonic grin in place as he draped his arms over the back of the chairs beside him.

Icheb ignored his arm and looked at the chief, “Q is visiting Captain Janeway.” They both watched O’Brien’s face pale and his eyes narrow on Q.

“Oh yeah!” Q stood up quickly and leaned over his desk, “You were at Deep Space 9 when my dad went there!” O’Brien’s eyes widened. “Do you happen to have video of your captain punching him? The reports I read were very dry and didn’t really do it for me.”

By this time, most of the class had filtered in and were staring at Q as he waited with an expectant smile for O’Brien to stop cursing under his breath.

“Seriously, I would pay whatever archaic currency I have to if I got to see my dad sucker punched.” Q grinned, shrugging as he plopped back into his seat, “You might have noticed my dad’s a jerk.”

“Might?” O’Brien snorted, shaking his head, “I’ll check my records, kid.” Q whooped as O’Brien departed to finish passing around the chips.

The lab was a simple repair, one that Icheb had done several times on Voyager and one that they both finished quickly. Q glanced around the class as Icheb ducked his head over a pad. No one else had finished yet.

“What do we do now?” Q whispered, shifting closer to Icheb. His eyes darted around the room as he watched Icheb fidget in his seat, “Are we not suppose to be done yet?”

“My understanding is that it is socially inappropriate to finish too early,” Icheb whispered back, eyes rising from his pad to look at Q. He took in the furrowed brow and scrunched up nose with a sigh, “I usually just read so that no one notices.”

Q glanced around again. They’d been getting glares since before either of them had finished. One of the less subtle students was even grumbling about borgs in the back row. Q scowled, “I think they noticed.”

“Yes…” Icheb’s throat bobbed, “That doesn’t usually bode well.”

With very little understanding of Earth culture and only Icheb’s obvious discomfort to go off of, Q attempted to sit quietly until the lab finished. Luckily, O’Brien walked past their area. He noticed Q almost vibrating out of his chair.

“You boys finished?” O’Brien quirked a brow, swiping Icheb’s chip from the table before either could respond. He looked over it, smiled, “Nice work. I see you even upgraded the connectors, never a bad habit to get into – never know if you’ll have time to upgrade things later.” He looked at Q’s next, “Well, you certainly follow instructions better than your old man.”

Icheb snorted and Q elbowed him as O’Brien’s eyes flickered up from the chip. Q plastered on a grin. O’Brien took both chips back over to his desk, scanning them and marking something on his pad.

“Since you’ve finished the lab, you’re welcome to go,” O’Brien gestured towards the door, smiling as Icheb’s shoulders visibly loosened and Q actually jumped over the desk. They were out the door quicker than a Ferengi that’d spotted latinum.

O’Brien looked over the room, noted the students who scowled at Icheb as he left. He also noticed Q spinning around right before he left the door, certainly taking in the animosity aimed at the brunali.

“Focus on your work!” O’Brien shouted, making half the room jump for various reasons. He narrowed his eyes on those who grumbled under their breath. He really needed to talk to Starfleet about adding ‘classroom cooperation’ to the grading rubric.

-.-.-

“So…” Q drew out the word, waiting until Icheb had set his pads down on the desk in his room. “Your classmates don’t like you do they?” They’d chosen to return to Icheb’s residence rather than risk another recreational activity. It had the added benefit of allowing them to leave the security detail in the hallway.

Icheb’s throat bobbed and Q narrowed his eyes on it. “I believe there is some nervousness, about my borg implants.”

“And jealousy about your genius intellect,” Q added on, plopping backwards onto Icheb’s bed as the other teen took a seat on the edge.

“Yes,” Icheb sighed, brows lowering as he breathed through his nose, “I have yet to crack the apparent social code that my classmates adhere to. I only discover I have violated a rule after the fact and it’s making it difficult to fully integrate into the culture.”

Q shifted around so that he was leaning against the wall, facing Icheb, “Sounds to me like they’re not letting you integrate.” Icheb shrugged.

“I would prefer to discuss another matter.” Icheb moved to sit beside Q at the top of the bed, “You have not yet told me about your condition.”

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” Q groused, pout forming on his face.

Icheb merely raised a brow, turning his body to face sideways so he could look directly at Q, “I do not forget things.”

“Let me dream, huh?” Q huffed, shoulders sagging. It took him less than half an hour to explain the situation, to recap his evening at Starfleet Medical. Icheb listened aptly, brows furrowing further every second. “So… I guess to sum it up, my powers are all over the place and refuse to sit still?”

“They are *your* powers, so that’s not entirely surprising,” Icheb smirked and Q double over with laughter. Their shoulders knocked together as Q settled back. Icheb tilted his head, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Q shook his head, “I don’t even know how I can help me yet.” Icheb nodded. With a sigh, Q glanced around the room. He spotted the regeneration alcove in the far corner, “You still have to regenerate? You said on Voyager you were… ‘transitioning to a sleep-based regeneration system.’”

“I still have to regenerate in the alcove every two days or so,” Icheb frowned, “I’ve found sleeping is still very difficult for me.”

“Why? Do you have bad dreams or something?” Q blinked and scooted closer to Icheb.

Icheb shook his head, “No. Well… Maybe. It’s very hard to tell.” He scrunched up his nose, “I have found that recently my dreams are very much the same as my waking life. Going to class, trying to understand Earth. It is not particularly… restful.”

“Oh,” Q’s forehead wrinkled, “Is regeneration the same? Like, are your dreams bad during the regeneration cycle too?”

“I don’t dream during my regeneration cycle,” Icheb admitted, he nodded towards the alcove, “It is more… restful though. I find I am able to order my thoughts during the regeneration cycle in a way that I am not when I sleep.”

“Order your thoughts?” Q spoke slowly, enunciating each word as he tried to understand.

“When I am awake, I think quite a lot of things, often many things at once –”

“All of them nerdy I’m sure,” Q butt in.

Icheb swatted his shoulder, “During sleep, my thoughts simply continue, sometimes getting louder actually. But during the regeneration cycle, I can put order to the chaos. Sort things out.”

“Huh,” Q drew his legs up, resting his arms on his knees, “When I sleep, it’s more like that. Like the regeneration cycle. I’m just… floating. Waiting to wake up I guess.”

“Do you not find that pleasant?” Icheb asked as he looked at the frown on Q’s face.

Q just shrugged, “Not really. It just is. I only sleep when I’m like this anyway.” He gestured at his human body, “Even when the continuum made me human, I still didn’t dream.”

“Hmm…” Icheb’s head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing.

“What?” Q raised an eyebrow, “That’s your ‘I have an idea’ hum.”

Icheb rolled his eyes, “I do have an idea.” Q laughed. “But I am unsure if it’ll work.” He turned to face Q, “You said your powers essentially answer your questions before you ask them right? They’re responding to what you want.”

“Yes…” Q’s tone lowered. Icheb grinned at him and Q leaned closer, “What are you thinking, Itchy?”

“I’m thinking,” Icheb drawled, “That you could make yourself capable of dreaming, Q-Ball. You just have to want to, right before you go to sleep.”

Chapter Text

Q startled awake, chest heaving and skin slick with sweat. He shook out his limbs, focused on his fingers as the world came back into focus.

"So…" Q took in a gulp of air and ran his hand through his hair, "That was dreaming." His throat bobbed as he stumbled out of his bed with legs feeling vaguely like some gelatinous ooze.

Jelly.

Icheb said that was called jelly.

It had been his fifth attempt to illicit dreaming while he slept and the first time he was successful. Well, second, but the first time had ended with him waking up on the ceiling so that wasn't exactly a success.

"You're up early?" Janeway paused in the living room when he exited his room. There was a coffee cup halfway to her lips. Her forehead creased, "Are you alright?"

"What do dreams mean?" Q asked her instead, brow furrowed as he walked further into the room.

Janeway blew out a breath, head tilting to the side as she sat down on her couch, "Well, that depends." Whatever pad she'd been looking at was set on the coffee table, "Why do you ask?"

Q fidgeted at the side of the couch as Janeway sipped her coffee. With a sigh, he plopped onto the cushion beside her, "I've been trying to dream." Her brows arched up. "I think I managed it, but now I don't know what they mean. Are they suppose to be so… bright?"

With a chuckle, Janeway nodded, "They can be very bright. It depends on the dream really." She turned on the couch, draping her arm over the back to lean against, "We construct our own dreams so they're usually a reflection of something we want or something we're dealing with." Her lip quirked up, "Or something we're not."

"So…" Q's face puckered up like a lemon, "Dreams are how you process emotions?" Janeway nodded, smiling to herself as Q's nose wrinkled. "Sounds horrible."

"How did you manage to dream if you haven't before?" Janeway leaned forward, eyes narrowing and brows rising, "I thought you couldn't control your powers."

The fidgeting returned and Q avoided eye contact. Janeway waited. Q crumbled fairly quick, "Icheb figured if I wanted something and focused on it, that might trigger my powers and make it happen." His hands gestured wildly, "And dreaming has always sounded kind of cool! So I've been trying all week."

"Finally succeeded then?" Janeway drew back. Q blushed crimson, hand reaching for the back of his neck as he nodded. She clasped his shoulder, "That's good."

Q scoffed, "If you say so."

"Dreaming is something new, and it took you a few days," Janeway smiled, she tapped his chin up, "You're starting to learn control. That's good."

"Well, yeah…" Q huffed, crossed his arms, "But it's not like I'm just manipulating space or time or matter. That was easy!" Janeway chuckled, hand pressed to her face. He pouted, "Now it's like everything is shifting around me so I have to predict what's it's going to do!"

The sudden doubling over of his godmother in laughter was not the response Q expected or was hoping for.

"What's so funny?" Q whined.

Janeway straightened and took a breath, "Sounds like you have to consider the consequences of your actions… even those you don't make consciously." She smirked when his mouth dropped open. "Foreign territory for your average Q hmm?"

"Getting the Klingons to join the Federation might be easier," Q said, falling sideways on the couch and curling up in the cushions as Janeway stood up.

She leaned down, palm on his cheek, "It's a good thing you're not an average Q then." With a smile, she ruffled his hair.

Q shuffled himself about, blushing again and avoiding eye contact. Janeway grabbed a blanket from the recently stocked linen closet.

"Sweet dreams," Janeway whispered and reached for her padd, "I'll see you later. She dimmed the lights on her way out, shaking her head as Q fell asleep before she even left the apartment. "Guess dreaming isn't so bad…"

-.-.-

Janeway entered Starfleet HQ with a padd firmly in front of her face. It tended to save time on her way up to her office. Debriefs were done, finally, but as she was now the de facto expert on the Delta Quadrant, she'd been tasked with heading up the new efforts of the Pathfinder Project until Voyager finished her retrofit.

"Things change, but not that much," Janeway sighed as she took a seat at her desk. There was talk of making her a rear admiral - an honor for sure - but she'd have to give up her command.

"Captain?" The voice of Admiral Paris wafted through her doorway and Janeway hopped to attention. He waved her off, "I saw you'd submitted a formal request to have Seven of Nine admitted into Starfleet with the rank of Lieutenant."

"I did," Janeway arched a brow as she took her seat again, "She wasn't the only member of my crew I recommended keep their field commission..."

Paris ducked his head at her narrowed eyes, "...she is the only member who spent a large portion of her life as part of the collective though."

"Against her will," Janeway amended for him. She leaned forward on her desk as Paris teetered by her door, obviously uncomfortable. "Something the matter Admiral?"

"There is concern, among the admiralty, that not every member of the crew who was necessary for Voyager to come through the Delta Quadrant-"

"-is still necessary in the Alpha Quadrant?"

With a nod, Paris sighed, "I'm sorry, captain, I know what your crew mean to you."

"Yes," Janeway leaned back, hand moving to her cheek, "So am I. Starfleet will be poorer for their absences."

"Those of the Maquis that have requested to remain with Starfleet have been approved," the Admiral grimaced slightly, "They'll be on probation for their next duty station, but..." Admiral Paris gestured out, "...it's better than nothing."

Janeway chortled, "Given we weren't positive they'd be pardoned... it's significantly better than expected." Her eyes flickered to Paris then, eyebrows arched, "What about Icheb?"

"Well..." Paris shifted his feet, "He's also a former borg-"

"Never a full drone, and never part of the collective." Janeway raised her chin, "And he's nearly completed what amounts to his second year at the Academy."

"Third, actually," Paris smiled, shaking his head, "With his field work in the Delta Quadrant and his test scores, he's equivalent of a 3rd year student. Minus the required courses."

"Yes, he's taking those now," Janeway templed her hands beneath her chin, leaning forward again, "A 3rd year amongst 1st year cadets. Not an easy transition for him." Her eyes narrowed, "Is it a waste of his time?"

The admiral's mouth pressed into a firm line, head tilting, "I don't know."

"I do," Janeway stood, hands on her hips, "I don't care what I have to do or what admiral I have to go through, that boy is staying in Starfleet."

Paris smiled, shaking his head, "I don't suppose this would be a good time to discuss the Q situation then?"

"What about him?" Janeway rolled her eyes, "Q's been behaving exemplary, especially for a Q." She gestured towards her computer, "I even got a communique from Picard asking me how I did it."

"Not giving up any secrets?" Paris folded his hands together.

Janeway resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, "He's a child. He learned. You read my report."

"Which highlighted the impact of friendship on the young Q as I recall," Admiral Paris gave her a pointed look. Eyebrows arching as he emphasized, "A very specific friendship."

She chuckled, hand moving to her face again, "I'm sure the admiralty would prefer to have a Q on their side, if the continuum ever decides to meddle again."

"One could argue it's a... necessary risk."

-.-.-

Icheb arrived at his engineering class to find Q in the seat beside his.

"Why is this my only class you regularly come to?" Icheb asked as he set his bag down and took his seat.

Q merely grinned and looked back at the filmplast in his hand. A video restarted at the flick of his thumb. Icheb recognize Q's father, but not the man punching him in the face.

"If you're ever around DS9, I'm sure Commander Kira would take you on a tour of the holodeck where it happened," Chief O'Brien chuckled as he approached the two. He held out a hand and Q reluctantly returned the video.

"I am surprised you haven't gone to see the incident yourself," Icheb tilted his head to look at Q. O'Brien gestured towards him, nodding along.

"I wish," Q huffed, bottom lip sticking out, "Once a Q has visited a specific time and space, another one can't go there. It messes with the fabric of the universe." Q did a crude demonstration of scissors cutting through the air, "I'd create a different timeline and getting back would be a total headache."

O'Brien snorted, lips pursing, "Given the circumstances of your father visiting DS9, I wouldn't have thought that was a priority for Q."

Narrowing his eyes, Q looked shrewdly at O'Brien, "Why was my father there?"

"Oh look!" O'Brien spread his arms out towards the filling lecture hall, "Time to start class."

Q leaned towards Icheb, "Can we stay after for me to interrogate the chief?"

"If... necessary," Icheb fidgeted in his seat, eyes flicking from his padd of notes to the class around them. Q glanced about, eyes narrowing.

They did stay late, to the point that O'Brien had to shoo them out before his next class and Q still didn't get the story.

"Sworn to secrecy, boys, sorry!" O'Brien called after them, laughing jovially.

"He is not sorry," Q grumbled as they left the engineering building. Icheb nodded, quiet as his eyes moved from left to right in a thorough sweep or the area. Q tilted his head, "What's up?" He glanced behind him at the security officers, one of whom was yawning, "Pretty positive there's no threats around here."

Icheb frowned, "That's not always been my experience after this class." Q furrowed his brow, mouth falling open as he started to speak.

On queue, a water balloon sailed through the air and nailed Icheb in the face. The jeering laugh of "Heads up Borg Boy!" was definitely not meant as a warning.

Q flinched as the water sprayed around them, the street lights flickered and a sudden yelp drew the attention of the security officers to some nearby trees.

"What was that?" Q leaned forward to inspect Icheb's face as the other teen wiped the water and bits of synthetic fiber from his face.

"My classmates are not fond of me," Icheb admitted with a sour face. His eyes narrowed, "From my research I've gathered that this sort of treatment is typical of outsiders."

"And here I thought humans were beyond-" Q gestured at Icheb's face, "Should we do something about it?"

Icheb shook his head, "Avoiding them has proved effective and from my research 'tattling' only proves to further ostracize a person."

"Sounds dumb, but okay," Q shrugged and turned his head to look at the security officer returning to them.

"We have a bit of an issue."

They followed the lieutenant to a tree, where a young man in a cadet uniform was tightly grasping a branch, his feet floating above him.

"It appears he's caught in a gravitational anomaly," Icheb raised a single brow. The second lieutenant was securing the cadet to the tree with some magnetic cuffs.

"Yes, that was our conclusion as well," the lieutenant looked pointedly at Q.

Tilting his head, Q shrugged, "It wasn't on purpose. He startled me." He grinned as he crossed his arms, "Given he attacked Icheb I'm not feeling too bad about it though."

"I'm sorry!" The cadet shrieked.

Q hummed, "Apologies don't count if you're under duress."

"Q..." Icheb warned.

"Wha-at?" Q whined, head falling back. Icheb raised a hand to the tree and narrowed his eyes. Q crossed his arms and huffed, "Fine."

It took considerable focus, and fast reflexes on the part of the security officers, but the cadet eventually returned to the ground. He was shaking, and very pale.

"Now you can apologize," Q nodded, chin raised expectantly as he looked down at the cadet. Icheb blinked at him, but the cadet managed to stutter out something that vaguely sounded like words.

"We should return to your quarters," Icheb looked at Q instead of responding, "I am certain the captain will be notified and wish to speak with you."

The security officers exchanged a look as Icheb grabbed Q by the wrist to lead him away. Q followed, already chattering on about self-defense and reflexes.

"Should we-" One of the lieutenants started.

"Above our pay grade." The other said and they quickly fell into step a few paces behind Q and Icheb.

Chapter Text

Icheb didn't speak a word until they arrived at Janeway's quarters. His hand dropped Q's wrist and he turned to face him with eyes narrowed, "That was inappropriate."

"Again," Q huffed, arms crossing, "It was an accident." 

"You did not take the situation seriously," Icheb shot back, voice rising an octave. The lights flickered and his lips pursed.

"I didn't do anything wrong," Q shouted, hands flying. 

Icheb scoffed, "You acted impulsively."

"And that's bad thing?!" Q's nose wrinkled, "At least I reacted! You just stood there."

"I do not wish to engage my classmates!" Icheb snapped at him, shaking his head, "When you disappear back to your galaxy hopping, I still have to live with these people."

Q's face scrunched up and eyes narrowed on Icheb, "So, what, because I don't want to join Starfleet, I have to clear every action with you now? Is that it?" Icheb scowled and Q took a step closer, "Cause I'm pretty sure I'm the one with a Starfleet Security detail watching his every move! No one's assigned to do-gooders who don't stick up for themselves!""

"The security detail is your own fault!" Icheb looked down into Q's eyes. Their noses nearly touching as they stared each other down. "I'm not letting your lack of control mess up my life!"

"Leave!" Q shoved Icheb towards the door before turning away.

Icheb blinked, his face dropping. When he reached out towards Q his fingers met static electricity before they could make contact. With his fingers numb, Icheb walked out the door, hands fisting at his side.

He blew past the security officers, who stayed firmly rooted to their posts. At least till they heard Q scream. 

Rushing into Janeway's apartment, they found half the furniture on the ceiling and the rest floating through the air in some sort of gravitational current that was circling Q on the floor. Who was very much unconcious.

"Security Detail to Janeway," the lieutenant tapped at his comm badge, "We have a situation in your quarters." 

"Situation?" Janeway's voice came back. Before the lieutenant could answer, "I'm on my way." 

The immediate beam in probably wasn't strictly necessary, but neither security officer said a word as Janeway assessed the gravitational anomolies that had overtaken her living room.

"What happened before…" Janeway gestured at the flying furniture. She took out her tricord and her brow scrunched up, "He certainly didn't make it easy to get to him."

The lieutenant cleared their throat, "He had an argument with Cadet Icheb, captain. After a previous altercation with another cadet after an engineering class."

"What they mean is Q sort of freaked when someone threw a water balloon at his friend and Q accidentally created a gravity well. It took a bit to return the cadet to the ground." The other security officer drawled.

Janeway looked over at them, "I'm going to need the full details on that." She glanced back at Q as he let out a groan. 

Q pulled himself into a ball on the floor. His hands pressed to the sides of his head, face pulled tight in a grimace as he curled tighter. 

Using her tricorder to navigate the anomolies, Janeway ducked around tables and chairs to kneel beside him. 

"Q?" Janeway whispered, hand stroking over his hair. He flinched at the contact and a sudden wave pushed her away. Her back slammed against the wall.

She quickly drew her legs up to her chest as the furniture fell to the ground, smashing together and clattering across the floor as the pieces were pushed away from Q's still twitching body. 

"Captain?" one of the officer's called out. 

Janeway shook her head and rose to her feet, "I'm fine. You two?" 

"We're good," the lieutenant shouted back. "How should we proceed?" 

"We call a doctor…" Janeway blew a hair out of her face and tapped her comm badge. "Emergency beam out to Voyager. Directly to Sick Bay." 

For the second time in as many weeks, Janeway was staring at her godson on an exam table. 

"Activate EMH program," Janeway called out and immediately the Doctor appeared, forehead creased.

"Captain? You're not due to inspect the ship for-" 

"Q." Janeway pointed to the exam table and the Doctor turned, mouth falling open. 

He nodded, "I see. Another episode like the one Dr. Crusher called me about?" 

"Gravitational anomalies this time, not electrical," Janeway nodded, arms crossing, "What worries me is how he reacted to my touch this time." 

The Doctor hummed as he examined Q, head ducking low near Q's face as the boy twitched. His fingers dug into his hair and skin. Janeway stepped closer when she saw the blood. 

"We need to restrain him," the Doctor grabbed Q's wrists. An electrical current zipped up his arms, his hologram dematerializing slightly before the shock ran its course. "Activate the restraints," the Doctor nodded towards the bed controls as he held Q's wrists away from his head. 

The restraints were activated and Q thrashed against them. He whimpered and yelled, Janeway's eyes went wide as he let out a scream. Empty hyposprays took flight from a nearby table. 

"I'm suddenly very glad you had all of my carts outfitted with gravitational locks," the Doctor raised a brow at the medical tricorder floating past his head. He reached for it and a static shock zapped at his photons when his hand made contact with the gravitation current circling Q. "I don't believe we can cross electrical anomolies off the list this time either." 

"He's getting worse," Janeway sighed, head shaking, "And he was doing so well this morning."

"What do you mean?" The Doctor tilted his head as he reached for another tricorder. He began examining Q at a slight distance. 

Janeway smiled, "He made himself dream for the first time." The Doctor looked up at her, brows furrowed. "He'd been practicing apparently. Trying to force his powers to respond to do something on purpose."

"And he chose dreaming?" The Doctor raised a brow as he glanced down at Q, "An interesting choice."

"I think Icheb had something to do with the selection," Janeway smirked. And then she frowned. 

The Doctor's tricorder chirped, "Well, I seem to be getting the same results as Dr. Crusher. His body is in flux, zeta waves incredibly erratic." 

With a hand held to her face and arms crossed, Janeway stepped up to the side of the table. She looked down at Q. His face was pinched, his lips parted as tiny breaths escaped in slow pants. 

"Last time he looked almost peaceful," Janeway whispered. The Doctor followed her gaze with his own. 

"I don't believe the same is true in this instance," the Doctor sighed, "The few readings I can get from his nervous system indicate high activity."

"He's in pain," Janeway's fingers twitched as she kept herself from reaching for Q. 

-.-.-

Icheb did not return to his quarters. Primarily as a means of avoiding Seven. She would certainly recognized his distressed state and he did not wish to discuss his issues at the academy. 

Unfortunately, this left him with very few options to retreat. Naomi was off planet, getting to know her father. Any other member of the crew he could think of would most certainly contact Seven.

"You're not the one I expected to see back here," the Ferengi bartender grinned widely at him as he stepped back into the man's establishment. He gestured out, head bowing slightly, "Will you be wanting juice again tonight?" 

Eyebrow quirked up, Icheb stared at the Ferengi, at the rows of teeth staring back at him. The eyes of several patrons flickered to him briefly. 

"I'd be curious to try Ferengi wine." 

The bartender's smile widened as he pulled a bottle from the top shelf, "You're in luck, just got a fresh shipment of my favorite brand from Ferenginar."

Chances were that his reaction to the alcohol would be minimal. Icheb's physiology was similar to humans yes, but not the same. And then there were the borg enhancements. He'd calculated the likelihood of an adverse reaction at only 4.7%.

"What'd'ya think Star Fleet?" the bartender grinned at him as Icheb swallowed his first glass in one gulp. It was tangy, and fruity. His mouth tingled and his throat burned.

"Satisfactory," Icheb pushed his glass across the bar top and the Ferengi filled it up again. He had no data on how Brunali reacted to alcohol. It was unwise to continue drinking it before he could adequately take stock of his body's response to the first glass.

Knowing that and doing that were two different things. Q's words from their argument were louder than his own thoughts.

Icheb downed the second glass and blinked at the haziness of the room around him. The bartender chuckled, "You a lightweight kid?"

"I'm not familiar with that term," Icheb stared at him, eyes fluttering. His throat bobbed. Somehow, the argument from earlier was now louder and repeating in his head with odd distortions that didn't correspond with his memory. "But I am... experiencing something wholly unfamiliar to me."

"Lightweight is someone who can't drink much," the Ferengi's smirk was slipping off his face as Icheb turned his head to examine the rest of the room.

Colors blurred together. Shapes and faces and noises. Everything felt off. And bigger. Or louder. It was an entirely new experience.

"I was not expecting this reaction," Icheb mumbled, he slid his glass back over to the bartender, "I don't dislike it."

The Ferengi did not refill the glass, but Icheb was too busy following the buzz of electricity in the air to notice. He turned in his chair, watching the thin blue halo as it zipped around the room from light fixture to light fixture. Comm badges glowed. Watches. The replicator in a corner.

"This is quite intriguing," Icheb laughed as he turned back to face the bartender.

"Yeah, I bet," he snorted, head shaking, "Cutting you off early, Star Fleet, you're already drunk."

That was a word Icheb was familiar with. He'd heard Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim discussing it once the morning after a party on the holodeck he was too young to attend.

"Seven will not be pleased."

Chapter Text

There is nothing like a Ferengi bar. Absolutely indescribable. O'Brien generally despised them. Too loud and boisterous for a family man like himself really.

But some days he found himself slipping in to the one a few blocks from the Academy. It had nothing to do with his being a bit homesick for DS9. Absolutely nothing. No matter what Keiko said.

"Ah~ the prodigal chief!" the bartender grinned at him when he walked through the door. Entirely too smug.

He was some cousin or other of Quark's of course. Because O'Brien had obviously done something horrible in a past life.

Perhaps he'd been English...

"Evenin' Drank," O'Brien nodded at the Ferengi and took a seat at the bar. A pint of beer appeared immediately. Say what you wanted, but Drank was good at what he did.

"You know, I had to start stocking Guinness regularly because of you," Drank lowered his voice as he spoke to O'Brien. He held a hand to his chest and sighed, "My supplier practically laughed at me when I added it to the order."

O'Brien scowled, "I don't come here that often." Drank lowered his chin and looked at him pointedly.

"Often enough I'm getting fresh-gilled cadets now," Drank nodded towards the end of the bar. O'Brien followed the gesture with his eyes and nearly choked on the gulp of beer he'd taken.

"You served Icheb alchol?!"

Drank shrugged, arms going wide, "It's not in my nature to turn down a paying customer." O'Brien stood up, hands on his hips. Drank chuckled, "Now, now, I cut him off after two." Frowning, he added, "Bit of a lightweight unfortunately."

That much was quite obvious just from looking at the young man. Icheb was sat on a stool, head tilted back and eyes wide. He was muttering to himself slightly as he looked at the ceiling. His gaze flicked back and forth from various lights and electronics. Completely enraptured.

"Apparently, there's an 'energy' connecting all the electronics. 'Wavelengths' in the air he called it." Drank used the finger quotes liberally as he talked.

"There probably is actually," O'Brien hummed, gesturing towards Icheb with the pint in his hand, "Kid can see more than you or I could ever dream of, and that's when he's sober."

With a snort, Drank shook his head, "Whatever you say, Starfleet. All I care is that he stays calm like that, it's a nice change of pace from the usual drunks I deal with."

O'Brien rolled his eyes and dropped his payment on the bartop before moving to approach Icheb.

"Cadet?" O'Brien set his beer down at the stool beside his student. Icheb's head snapped down to look at him.

Eyes fluttering, Icheb tilted his head, "Chief... have you always been so yellow?"

Clearing his throat, O'Brien took a seat, "No clue."

"Hmm..." Icheb's head tilted the other way, "...fascinating."

Calm. Sure. Icheb was calm. But he was also damn creepy. The way his eyes focused so intently on O'Brien's face was unnerving. He wasn't making eye contact so much as his gaze was roving over the air just around his head.

"You're drunk Cadet."

"That's what the bartender said," Icheb nodded sagely, as if repeating something he thought might be important. He didn't blink.

Drank was cackling somewhere behind him and O'Brien was fairly positive he'd have to pay a fee to stop the release of some sort of video later. Or at least ti buy a copy.

"Well, Drank would certainly be an expert on that subject," O'Brien said. He smirked when Drank squawked behind him. "Perhaps we should call you a ride home hmm?"

"Voyager is still being retrofit," Icheb's lower lip puckered in a slight frown.

O'Brien pursed his lips, "Yes. I'd heard that. I meant your quarters here, in the city."

Icheb's brow scrunched up, which O'Brien thought looked very painful when the implant that lay just beneath it didn't move with the skin.

"Don't want to go home then?"

"He said someone named Seven would be very displeased with him," Drank offered, voice light and almost laughing.

"Well, what about your friend Q? Hmm? Perhaps he can come get you? Seems like the sort that knows how to hide from authority when necessary," O'Brien smiled at Icheb. The mention of Q did not have the effect he expected.

For one, Icheb blinked finally.

He also turned away, hands gripping the bar top as he scowled at the wall, "No."

"That was the psychic fellow eh?" Drank asked, voice pitched low as he approached O'Brien. There was no humor in his voice now. "That one nearly blacked out the block on their first visit."

"The lights only flickered for a moment," Icheb corrected him, eyes narrowing. His knuckles on the bartop went white as he squeezed. It was a cheap synthetic metal and O'Brien could see it puckering beneath Icheb's fingers.

"I believe you," OBrien squeezed Icheb's shoulder with one hand and waved Drank off with the other.

"It wasn't his fault anyway," Icheb glared downward, chin dropping to his chest. Drank snorted and Icheb's head shot up. If his eyes had been equipped with laser beams, the whole bar would be in shambles and Drank would be dust.

"Yes, I know," O'Briend tried to redirect him, forcing himself into Icheb's line of sight as he spoke in calming tones. "He's sick or something, right? That's why he's staying with Janeway?"

Icheb's eyes fluttered and his whole face softened as he blinked at O'Brien, "How did you know that?"

"A good chief knows everything," O'Brien flicked his own nose and chuckled lightly as Icheb's entire face pinched together.

"I don't understand."

Ah! Finally, to have the kid admit when he was confused for once. If only O'Brien could manage that in his classroom.

"Means I pay attention and I listen, even when I'm not suppose to," O'Brien explained, smiling as comprehension blossomed on Icheb's face.

"Oh, right," Icheb nodded, almost smiling, "Tuvok said listening is the most useful weapon in any situation. The hardest to master too."

Well, it wasn't every day O'Brien agreed with a Vulcan.

"Good advice," O'Brien gave him a quick nod, gesturing slowly with his beer before he sipped it, "Some of us had to learn that the hard way." He was careful to curb his desire to down it in one go. He needed his wits about him and he was operating on an empty stomach.

"I don't think Tuvok will be pleased with me either." Icheb's shoulders slumped. His eyes widened, "The Captain will be disappointed."

Damn. Kid just walked around with the expectations of a whole starship on his shoulder didn't he?

"I'm sure they've all had their own embarrassing moments in a bar," O'Brien offered with a soft chuckle.

Icheb shook his head, "No. Not about this." He looked much more like a sad child than a drunk cadet as he admitted, "I lost my temper with Q."

"We all argue with our friends Icheb," O'Brien swallowed down a lump in his throat. He thought vaguely of Julien and made a mental note to call him once he got home. They'd missed a few of their regular check ins. "You'll apologize. Patch things up. That's the order of things."

"Are you sure?" Icheb looked at him, eyes wide and face pale. O'Brien paused mid-sip.

It hit him then that he had no idea how old Icheb actually was. The small bio he'd gotten when the kid had enrolled in his class hadn't included anything but the date he came aboard Voyager.

"Have you never had a fight with a friend Icheb?"

He nodded, "With Seven. And Naomi once." The 'but not with Q' was heavily implied. "Usually, when something happens though, Q is the one that has to apologize."

Ah. Well, that tracked. Q was still a Q obviously.

"Why don't we get you some coffee and you tell me what happened?" O'Brien waved Drank back over and turned back to his beer. "I've said many a stupid things in my time, apologized for at least half of 'em I'd bet."

A cup of replicated coffee was quickly set in front of Icheb. The alcohol still in his system had the whole tale spilling out before he even finished his first sip. He'd blanched almost immediately at that.

"Why does the captain like this?" Icheb pushed the cup forward and leaned away from it.

"Humans have very questionable taste," Drank tsked and shook his head, "Sad really. Poor things never appreciate quality food."

O'Brien rolled his eyes.

"That's true. The crew never really took to Nelix's food in the Delta Quadrant. Most of it was quite delicious."

Despite having no idea who Nelix was or what the food tasted like, O'Brien was quite positive that was false.

-.-.-

Janeway paced the length of sickbay at least 100 times as the Doctor ran various scans and tests on Q. Some of them without any success as predicting which organs Q had from moment to moment was impossible.

"Well, I wouldn't say impossible," the Doctor hummed, brow furrowing, "Certainly beyond our current capabili..ties..."

The Doctor trailed off as Janeway glared at him. He clamped his mouth shut.

"Whatever is happening with his powers is getting worse."

"Given what we know about his powers, that certainly makes sense."

Janeway arched a brow, "Does it? A Q without control is rather unprecedented. Even in the Continuum according to Senior."

"Ah! Not true," the Doctor held up a finger, "Amanda Rogers utilized her Q ability subconciously. They responded to her desires, her wants, *her emotions.*"

Her eyes flicked to her godson, "His powers are reflecting his emotional state."

"Which is likely growing more precarious every day he struggles to control his newly amplified abilities," the Doctor hummed, frowning as he too looked at Q.

His body was restrained, but he continued to twitch and spasm as if being shocked repeatedly. Given the occasional bursts of electricity that emanated from the air around him, it was not entirely outside the realm of possibility that he was, in fact, being shocked. He was, for the time being at least, fairly quiet. And the scans hadn't shown anything new.

"Hmm... maybe," Janeway paced back across the room, hands on her hips, "Him trying not to use them is actually making it worse then. Each slip causes him more stress."

"Certainly worth exploring," the Doctor nodded.

Janeway huffed, hands flying up, "That doesn't help us right now, though." She blew out a breath, "If last time he was scared, my being able to sooth him helped. But this..." she waved a hand at the exam table. Her lips pursed, "...he won't let me near him like this."

"Perhaps if we consider the triggering event?"

"An argument with Icheb. Some sort of altercation with another cadet," Janeway sighed as she relayed the little information she had. Her hand itched to activate her comm badge and demand the full story from the security officers.

The Doctor hummed and rounded the exam table to access a terminal. He frowned as he reviewed the data, "Yes, I remembered correctly. When he stayed with us on Voyager, he had several altercations with the crew. Both as a Q and as a human. There was no change to his bio scans that we could detect."

"I don't think he was stressed about his pranks, no," Janeway shook her head, smile twitching at her lips.

"But his readings did change when he argued with his father. Or with you even!" the Doctor grinned, nodding to himself as he continued to read over the reports.

"I'm afraid I haven't had enough coffee to catch your point, Doctor," Janeway rubbed at her forehead. She knew full well there were two full pots of coffee cycling through her system. At the least. Apparently they meant nothing when Q was hurt. She'd have to analyze that later, when her impaired focus wasn't already busy with the matter at hand.

With a sigh, the Doctor turned around to face her, "My point is, the bio scans we have from those instances were also erratic, just not to this extent. His heart rate, blood pressure, even his brain waves - they all jumped up when he was faced with any sort of... I suppose, conflict would be the correct word. As it occured when Icheb was injured as well."

"That tracks," Janeway crossed her arms, "Q doesn't handle conflict well. Not when he can't control all the variables."

"And Icheb isn't particularly... adept, at navigating social disagreements either," the Doctor tacked on with a grimace.

Janeway chuckled, "I doubt whatever argument they had was pretty." She tapped on her comm badge, "Icheb." There was no response. She raised a brow and tried again. Still silent. "That certainly doesn't bode well."

"No..." the Doctor furrowed his brow again, "It most certainly doesn't."

A clattered sounded from the exam table as electricity arced across the room. Q's restraints released and in the blink of Janeway's eyes, he was gone.

Her heart jumped into her throat, "Q?!"

Chapter Text

Keiko was waiting for him when O'Brien returned home. Her smile when the door swooshed open immediately morphed into confusion. Her forehead wrinkled as Icheb stumbled into their quarters behind him.

"This is Cadet Icheb," O'Brien kept a hand on Icheb's back. The kid could still ramble about warp dynamics at the drop of a hat, but walking in straight line? Not so much.

"Went to Drank's after work huh?" Keiko smirked, arms crossing as O'Brien deposited his student on their couch. She laughed outright when he threw a look her way. "This is the kid from Voyager you mentioned right?"

With a swift nod, O'Brien lowered his voice as he approached her, "Remember my suspicions about him being bullied?" Her brow wrinkled as she nodded. O'Brien inclined his head forward, "I was right."

A proper scowl blossomed on Keiko's face. Her hands went to her hips, "You got their names I hope?" O'Brien couldn't help the smile that came over his face at her outrage. She'd never even met Icheb before and yet... well, he wouldn't want to be the bullies if Keiko got ahold of them.

"Not a one, I'm not certain he knows them even," O'Brien responded. He glanced back to check on Icheb, who was curling up against the corner of their couch. The boy wasn't quite asleep, but his eyelids were dragging down, "He seems to have defaulted to avoiding all of his classmates just the same."

Keiko's brow arched. Her lips pursed as she thought about it. "It's the implants isn't it?" She sighed, eyes sliding over to look at the very obvious signs of his former assimilation.

Icheb's Brunali traits were more pronounced than any of the remnants of his time as a borg. But the implant that ran beneath his eyebrow and down the side of nose weren't going to be mistaken for Federation tech.

"It's been five years. Picard said their queen is dead. The news said Voyager destroyed their primary means of getting to the Alpha quadrant." Keiko's frown only deepened as she shook her head, "He's just a kid..."

"Sad to say, but this is pretty typical for the first member of any species at the Academy. Nog and Worf both said as much when I reached out," O'Brien told her, brow furrowed.

"Not exactly reflecting Federation values..." Keiko wrinkled her nose. She sighed, moving towards the replicator, "At least you're looking out for him."

O'Brien snorted, "He's not one to accept help." He gestured towards the couch where Icheb had finally conked out, head lulling to the side. "That's apparently why he's drunk actually."

Suppressing a laugh as she set a glass of water on the table by the couch, Keiko retreated back into the kitchen with her husband before she asked, "What does that mean?"

"Well, to start, the younger Q? I like him much better than his father..."

-.-.-

A beeping noise persisted in the O'Brien home. Icheb sluggishly opened his eyes. The apartment was just as it had been when he'd last closed his eyes.

Warm. Cozy. Certainly not large, but the living room had colorful decor and children's toys neatly tucked into bins all around it. The faint murmuring of voices from the nearby kitchen confirmed that he had not been asleep for long. Despite his internal clock being... unyielding at the moment, Icheb was fairly certain he'd only drifted off for a few minutes.

Blinking rapidly, Icheb processed the realities of his environment. Or, tried to. His system was still struggling to combat the effects of alcohol. Everything was... off. Or slow. Or a little too... bright. All of his senses were simply overwhelmed.

Hearing especially, as the beeping continued. It was faint. More like a chirp really.

It took Icheb aproximately a minute to realize it was his comm badge. The one he'd tucked into his pocket after leaving the captain's quarters.

That was a minute longer than he found acceptable and Icheb scowled at the device as he fiddled with it. Finally, a computerized voice informed him that he'd missed several hails from Captain Janeway. All of them originating on Voyager.

"That's odd." Icheb squinted at the badge as it went silent.

He glanced around for a communication terminal. His comm badge couldn't make direct contact with anyone off planet. The terminal would act as a relay so he could respond.

Once he found one.

In all of the apartments given to Voyager's crew the terminals had been in the main room, or the bedrooms. The O'Brien's home was laid out much differently though, with a full kitchen and a hallway that Icheb assumed led to bedrooms. There were a lot more walls. More terminal options.

The open space of the cargo bay on Voyager would've been preferable. He'd been able to see everything from his regeneration alcove. Icheb always knew where everything was on Voyager. Knew how to handle anything that came his way.

"Looking for something?" O'Brien's wife was smiling at him as she came back into the room. She stopped in front of him, hands clasped together, "Anything I can help with?"

Icheb blinked up at her, "I have to contact Captain Janeway." His voice had shaken. He wasn't sure why. Her face had pinched with concern. Icheb ignored it. He held up his comm badge, "She's on Voyager."

"Oh," Her eyes widened and her brows rose higher. She gestured towards the wall by the front door.

The smile returned as she led Icheb to the wall unit. He only stumbled twice. She patted his shoulder as he fell into the chair.

Keiko's voice was full of laughter, but it wasn't mocking. It was light, melodic even as she instructed him on how to use their communication system. There was a kindness to her that reminded Icheb vaguely of Naomi Wilder and he, not for the first time, wished she was still on earth.

The communication terminal wasn't unlike others he'd used, but Keiko's direction was appreciated nonetheless. Her voice was comforting, if nothing else. Icheb set his comm badge into the connector beneath the screen. His call log popped up and, once he input his code, he was able to return Janeway's hails.

"Icheb?" Janeway's voice came through sounding frazzled and out of breath. The read outs on the screen indicated there was not an issue with the connection. Icheb had not heard Janeway like this before. "How quickly can you get to Voyager?"

"What?" Icheb's eyes fluttered and his back straightened. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded more like a croak.

"Q's having another episode with his powers," Janeway sighed and there was a pause. Icheb waited. "This isn’t a secure line, so I'll tell you the rest when you get here. There's a crewman waiting for my signal to beam you aboard. Are you ready?"

Nothing came out when Icheb opened his mouth to respond. He wasn't sure what he meant to say either. A hand clasped on his shoulder.

"Captain Janeway?" O'Brien cleared his throat as he leaned slightly over Icheb, "This is Chief O'Brien, I'm one of Cader Icheb's instructors at the Academy. It might be best if I beam aboard with him, with the state he's in."

There was another pause. Icheb could very clearly imagine the furrowed brow of the captain when she finally spoke, "You'd be the same O'Brien that served on Deep Space 9 under Sisko?"

"Yes, captain," O'Brien confirmed, nodding at the terminal despite the lack of video. Icheb watched the gesture with wide eyes. O'Brien cleared his throat, "Q's been attending my engineering class with the cadet as well. He's a good lad. Anything I can do to assist, I'll be glad to help."

Another pause. Icheb glanced up at O'Brien, who leaned one hand against the wall beside the consule. His brow was slightly wrinkled and his lips slim as he stared at the screen.

"I've informed the crewman," Janeway's voice was clipped, efficient. O'Brien straightened at her tone and Icheb tilted his head. He had heard her speak like that countless times. Normally on the bridge. He liked it even less than the new frazzled tone if he was honest.

O'Brien turned around to check with his wife before responded, "We're ready, captain, two to beam up." The hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly.

Icheb sunk to the floor as the transporter deposited them in sick bay. His head swam and the dazzling lights that he associated with a beam out felt vaguely like needles stabbing through his head. The trill of a medical tricorder wasn't much better.

"I'm fine," Icheb shoved at the Doctor's hands to push the offending noise away. There was a fluttering in his stomach and Icheb pursed his lips to prevent an embarrassing incident.

"You're a little green for fine..." Janeway's drawl was accompanied by an arch of her eyebrow. Her hands were on her hips when Icheb looked up at her.

"Better than I did after my first drink," O'Brien chuckled, the mirth stilted as he looked from Janeway to Icheb. Her eyebrow arched higher.

With some help from O'Brien, Icheb rose to his feet. His head turned left and right as he surveyed the room, "Where's Q?"

"That would be the question we're all asking," the Doctor huffed, hands back to circling Icheb's head as he scanned him. Icheb didn't swat him away this time. He leaned heavily on O'Brien, stumbling slightly as he took a step.

"Q disappeared, scans haven't found him," Janeway's brows knit together as she held her head with one hand.

O'Brien's nose scrunched up, "We sure he's still here?"

"Yes," Icheb and Janeway said at once. O'Brien chuckled, nodding as Icheb flushed. Janeway smiled.

"You know this ship inside and out," Janeway looked pointedly at Icheb, "And you know Q better than anyone. Any thoughts where he might be hiding?"

"The shuttle bay?" Icheb offered, nose scrunching up, "I would think sensors woukd pick him up there though..."

Janeway's lips quirked up, "You're assuming he's not masking his presence. Concious or unconcious, that's certainly within his wheel house."

"That's true," Icheb hummed, nose still wrinkled. Janeway exchanged a look with the Doctor.

"Perhaps the cadet should remain with me," the Doctor cleared his throat, he gestured towards the doors, "Chief O'Brien can fill the captain in on their way to check the shuttle bay."

Icheb frowned as both the captain and the chief agreed before Icheb could fully process the words. It was decidedly unfair. He was... incapacitated, sure, but he was not a child. He could still help.

"Had you asked, I might have told you that your physiology does not process alcohol at the same rate as humans," the Doctor drawled. Icheb's brow furrowed and the Doctor continued his lecture. There was a great deal about liver function and something about impaired thinking.

"So, my ability to think is slower," Icheb summarized. The Doctor pursed his lips and nodded. "And the lights?"

"I would hazard a guess that with the impaired function, the input from your borg implants is also harder to process."

"There are no borg implants in my eyes," Icheb blinked, head tilting.

The Doctor sighed and shook his head.

"Oh," Icheb flushed as he remembered, "The sensors in my implants are connected to my optical nerves. I remember."

"I estimate it will take roughly 24 hours for the bulk of your symptoms to pass," the Doctor informed him tightly, pointing to a medical bed, "You'll likely experience up to 72 hours of additional symptoms - headaches, nauseau, perhaps even the light sensitivity. Given your unique physiological condition and our lack of data on Brunali medical history, that is just a guess."

There was a bluntness to the Doctor. His brows angled low over his eyes. It took Icheb a moment to recognize the body language.

"You're annoyed."

Startled, the Doctor straightened, "Well... yes."

"Because of me?" Icheb asked, eyes fluttering.

"This is further evidence of the young Q's influence on you," the Doctor sniffed, chin rising, "He returns and suddenly the most promising cadet in Star Fleet is, to use a colloquialism, drunk." His tone is sharp.

Icheb's brow wrinkled, "This isn’t Q's fault."

"Not from where I'm sitting. And I highly doubt Seven will see it that way either," the Doctor snapped.

Icheb found himself standing from the medical bed with hands fisted at his side, "I am responsible for my own choices."

The Doctor snorted, "Yes. You simply make more questionable ones when he is around. Purely a coincidence I'm sure."

The sarcasm slapped across Icheb's face as harsh as any hand. His face flushed.

"Icheb..." the Doctor sighed, chest rising in a heavy breath, "...whether Q intends to or not, he's a bad influence. Or, perhaps, a reckless one, which can be just as bad."

"I have had just as *bad* an influence on him as he has had on me," Icheb crossed his arms, lips puckering in a slight pout.

"I highly doubt that," the Doctor snorted.

Icheb's eyes fluttered. The Doctor moved to a terminal to grab something and when he turned back around with a hypospray, he found Icheb gone.

Q was not in the shuttle bay and he wasn't messing with the sensors. Icheb knew exactly where Q would be. There was only one blindspot inside Voyager. More like a blip really.

The only one who knew about it was Icheb. And - only after he'd shown it to him - Q.

Chapter Text

Janeway was trying very hard to keep a straight face as Chief O'Brien recounted the events of his evening and Icheb's story. Given the concern on O'Brien's face, she wasn't doing the best job of it.

"Uh, captain..." The Doctor's voice cut through from her comm device. She arched a brow at his tone as she tapped at the badge.

"Yes, Doctor?" she drawled expectantly.

He hummed, "Icheb... he... left." Janeway closed her eyes and took a breath. The Doctor continued, "I haven't been able to raise him on comms."

"Fairly positive he left it planet-side," O'Brien offered, forehead wrinkling. Janeway nodded.

"He's probably looking for Q. See if the scanners can pick him up."

-.-.-

Through a series of jefferies tubes, Icheb made his way to a junction halfway between the grav generator and the bow plate. It was not an easy spot to get to and Icheb had only stumbled upon it by accident when taking a shortcut during a maintenance run for engineering.

Just as he expected, Icheb did not find it empty. Q was huddled in the center, up against the ceiling, caught in a gravity flux that was - at least partially - not of his own making.

"Q?" Icheb called out as he crawled into the cross-section of four jefferies tubes.

It was not a large space. Icheb was fairly positive that curling up like he had was the only reason Q was able to fit. Both in the space and the sensor blip. A full scan would eventually reveal Q, but it would likely take several sweeps. Several hours.

"Q?" Icheb tried again as he braced a leg against the top of the tube and turned on his back. It was the only way to keep the tiny gravity well from picking him up and depositing him in the exact spot in which Q was currently residing.

"Go away," Q spoke softly, voice cracking.

Icheb snorted, "I will do no such thing."

A shift of his head and Q's eyes fluttered open to look down at Icheb. The piercing gaze sent a shiver up Icheb's spine. His lungs froze in his chest and his throat bobbed as he took a deep breath to restart them.

"I'm sorry," Icheb blurted out, looking away. He bit his lip and forced himself to meet Q's gaze again, though his cheeks burned as he did so, "I... I didn't mean what I said before. About you messing up my life. I was just angry."

"You were right though," Q breathed out. He ducked his head, avoiding contact, "I don't have control of my powers. It's all instincts and reflexes and..." He looked back at Icheb, eyes ringed red and slightly bruised, "I could've hurt that cadet. Or... worse."

Moving closer, Icheb propped himself up on his elbows, "But you didn't. You were able to reverse what you did, control your powers."

"It's not good enough!" Q shouted, rising up. Icheb blinked. Face scrunched up, creased with worry, with anger - he'd never seen Q quite like this.

In the small space, they were closer now, heads only a few millimeters apart. There was a symmetry to it that Icheb found... interesting. Q on the ceiling, he on the floor, flanking each other as they sat up. Icheb reached upwards, using his hands to keep his position as he tucked his legs underneath him.

"I don't like feeling out of control," Q huffed, lips pursing tight as they faced each other now. Icheb had to look downward to meet his eyes.

"I don't like it either," Icheb admitted, hunching forward. His brow furrowed, "I don't like not knowing what to do, but... that is apparently 'normal.'"

Q rolled his eyes, "I don't do 'normal' Itchy. I'm a Q."

"And I'm a genetically engineered ex-borg brunali with a borg virus sequenced into my dna." Icheb frowned at him, eyebrows low. Q's lips twitched up slightly and Icheb smirked, "Apparently, these things apply to us all, whether we like it or not."

With a snort, Q shook his head, "Definitely not."

"You'll learn to control your powers Q. And then you'll be able to do whatever you want again. Go wherever." Icheb smiled softly. His eyes flicked forward, landing on Q's lips before he forced them away.

"What if..." Q started, biting at his bottom lip. Icheb looked back at him, head tilted. Q cleared his throat, "What if I don't want to leave? What if I don't want to go back to 'galaxy hopping?'"

Icheb flushed. He ducked his head. Q knocked his shoulder lightly.

"I'm serious, Itchy, would... would that be okay?" Q was starring at him now, eyes wide.

"Yes," Icheb croaked. He pursed his lips. "And, you're a Q, so... nothing says you couldn't do both." He shrugged, hand slipping from the ceiling, "Once you have your powers under control, of course, Q-Ball."

Q grinned as Icheb crowded into the space on the ceiling with him, bumping their shoulders together. He shoved Icheb lightly again, before pulling him into a hug, "Of course."

"We should return to sick bay," Icheb said slowly, throat bobbing, "The Captain is worried about you."

"If we move, we'll give away your hiding spot," Q arched a brow. He held up his fingers, head tilted to the side.

Icheb covered his hand with his own and shook his head, "I did not react well to the transporter, I do not believe I would do any better through your usual means of travel. It is unlikely I will need to utilize this space again anyway... Voyager will be restaffed before I graduate."

"Why didn't you react well to the transporter?" Q furrowed his brow, nose wrinkling. Icheb fidgeted.

"That's unimportant."

Q leaned closer then, eyes narrowed. He sniffed lightly at Icheb's breath, "Are you drunk?!"

"No," Icheb huffed, flushing again, "I am... simply slightly incapacitated due to alcohol consumption." Q doubled over laughing, landing half in Icheb's lap. Icheb frowned, lower lip jutting out as he looked at Q's hysterics, "This is not funny."

"You're right," Q nodded, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. He looked up at Icheb, head in his lap. Q crossed his arms and shook his head, "I can't believe you got drunk for the first time without me!"

Rolling his eyes, and then wincing, Icheb shoved Q out of his lap and started moving towards on the jefferies tubes.

"Aw, don't pout, Itchy, I promise to get you properly smashed. On something better than Ferengi wine for sure!" Q teased him as he followed.

Icheb looked over his shoulder at him, "How did you know it was Ferengi wine?" Q just blinked at him. Icheb waited, then gasped, "Oh, right, you wondered..."

"So I knew," Q finished for him, laughing lightly, "Wow. You really are drunk."

"Your amusement is unappreciated."

-.-.-

Janeway was rubbing at the sides of her head, eyes closed as she took a deep breath. O'Brien stood a few feet away, eyes narrowed as the crewman explained the results of their most recent sensor readings.

"He's the only Brunali in the whole damn quadrant and you couldn't track him due to interference?" O'Brien drawled, shaking his head. He glanced at Janeway, eyebrow rising as her hands dropped to her sides.

"You're dismissed, crewman, I'll check the sensor readings myself. If Q is interfering, I'm more likely to recognize his pattern," Janeway stepped up to the console and the crewman fled quickly.

They were part of the skeleton crew stationed on Voyager during the debrief. Given the modifications made on the ship in the Delta Quadrant, Janeway tried to give the poor soul the benefit of the doubt. The sensors were finely tuned after all, and not according to Starfleet specs.

"He's in a jefferies tube," Janeway sighed, shaking her head as she looked at the readings, "And Q is with him. Closest access panel is... near sick bay."

"They're headed back then," O'Brien chuckled, head shaking, "Must have made up then." Janeway's lip twitched despite herself.

"It would appear so," she sighed, hands moving to her hip.

Pursing her lip Janeway considered what Admiral Paris had said about their friendship. There'd been more implied in that conversation than said. As she and O'Brien took the lift towards sick bay the words not said began to drift through her head.

Q crawled out of the jefferies tube first and he had to catch Icheb as the other teen followed him. There was a smile on his face, laughter drifted through the corridor. Icheb was half-drapped over Q as they walked towards her.

"Well, you're certainly looking better, Q," Janeway arched a brow and her godson grinned at her.

"Did you know that Icheb is drunk?" Q asked and Icheb squawked, parroting himself no doubt as he denied the accusation. She ignored their playful argument as she ushered them both towards sick bay.

Seven would be arriving to collect Icheb soon and Janeway wasn't looking forward to broaching the subject of Icheb's starfleet career with her. She might not be able to secure Seven a commission, but as she watched Q help Icheb onto a biobed Janeway became certain that she could secure one for Icheb.

Her eyes flicked towards O'Brien. He wasn't even trying to hide his amusement. The chief was laughing openly as Icheb scowled and swatted at the Doctor's tricorder.

It was time Janeway reminded the admiralty just how important loyalty was for Starfleet. How invaluable.

"Chief O'Brien," Janeway pulled him aside. He arched a brow. She smirked, "I require your assistance on something." Her eyes flicked towards the two boys as Q peppered the Doctor with questions about how Icheb processed alcohol. "How good of a relationship do you have with your former captains?"

Chapter Text

Chakotay tried to keep his smile to himself as Seven practically marched towards Sick Bay. Her eyes were bright with anger, and worry. She walked quickly to Icheb when they entered.

"Captain," Chakotay nodded, hands clasped behind his back. She smiled tightly. Her gaze flicked towards Seven.

She was fretting over Icheb now, hands cupping his head as she demanded his vitals from the Doctor. He rattled them off without protest. Icheb scowled.

"I'm fine," Icheb told her, rolling his neck to force her hands to drop. She clasped his shoulders instead.

Q snorted, sitting on the biomed across from him, "Drunk isn't fine, by definition." He grinned when Icheb huffed. "You're officially impaired, Itchy." His hand rose to his chest, gasping, "And without me!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Icheb rolled his eyes and then immediately winced. Q sprawled back across his bed, sighing and sniffling. Icheb squinted at him.

"Drunk?" Seven's voice was sharp as her eyebrow arched. Icheb ducked his head, shoulders hunching. She glanced back at Q, "And you had nothing to do with it?"

At that, Q squawked, sitting up with a snap, "You think I would be this ineffective?!" He gestured at Icheb, who was blushing, "He's still conscious! And walking! Don't tarnish my reputation as a Q before I can even get it started!"

Janeway groaned, fingers at her temple. Chakotay pursed his lips. A small chuckle still escaped, "That would be a no then."

"I was incapacitated," Q shrugged, lips puckering as he looked towards the ceiling, "For other reasons."

"I was curious about Ferengi wine. I miscalculated the impact it would have on my faculties," Icheb explained.

Chakotay wrinkled his nose, "You got drunk on Ferengi wine?" Q giggled. Icheb's face twisted into a scowl. Chakotay wasn't sure who it was aimed at, but the identical look on Seven's face was definitely aimed at him.

"It's been an eventful evening," Janeway cleared her throat. She squeezed at Q's shoulder.

"Icheb is cleared to return to earth, though I expect his symptoms will be exacerbated by the transporter just as they were on his arrival," the Doctor cut in, smiling at Seven, "I've already discussed his possible 'hangover' with him."

A swift nod and Seven was already ushering Icheb onto his feet. Both of their jaws were clenched. Chakotay had never seen them argue, and he was quite certain he didn't want to.

"Q has a few more hours of observation left," Janeway told them, smirking as Q whined. He flung himself back on the biobed. Icheb hummed, lips twitching up when Q turned his head to glare at him.

"Of course," Seven kept one arm around Icheb's shoulders. A hand was holding him against her side. He stumbled even with her help.

Janeway coughed as Chakotay turned to follow her out. She arched a brow to mirror his when he looked her way, "There is something I need to discuss with you, Commander."

"We'll be fine," Seven gave him a quick nod. Icheb's head swung back, eyes wide. Pleading. Chakotay tilted his head, smiling softly.

"Go easy on him, Seven," Chakotay said in parting, "We all make mistakes." She scoffed quietly. Shaking his head, Chakotay gave his captain his full attention, "Captain?"

"Try to behave for the Doctor," Janeway swooped to kiss Q's forehead, ignoring his grumbling to ruffle his hair, "I won't be long."

Chakotay smiled at her affection for the young man. He was certainly older than all of them by now, with the way Qs were, maybe even all of them put together. He curled up  on the biobed, knees tucked close to his chest.

A child still. No matter how many millennia his father had spent dragging him around nebulas and black holes.

"Is this about Q?" Chakotay asked as they stepped outside Sick Bay. Janeway's lips twitched.

"In a roundabout way maybe," Janeway led him towards the turbolift. She didn't provide a destination as the doors swushed shut. "It's about Icheb."

"There's more to the story about him being drunk isn't there?" Chakotay sighed. Janeway crossed her arms, nodding sharply.

"Unfortunately, his position as an outside at the Academy is the least of my worries for him at the moment," Janway blew out a breath. Shoulders rolling back, she turned to face him, hands on her hips, "Starfleet won't accept Seven's field commission."

Cringing, Chakotay felt his heart twist. He nodded slowly, letting his breath out through his nose, "I wish I could say I was surprised."

"So do I," Janeway sighed. He arched a brow. She grimaced. "I may not be able to convince the admirals to take Seven, but I have a good shot for Icheb."

Chakotay smirked, "Q." She grinned, teeth on full display.

"I spoke to Chief O'Brien, he has an idea to get Icheb out of the Academt a bit quicker-"

"Which would solve your smaller problem," Chakotay interjected. She wagged a finger at him.

"-but I'd bet a whole nebula of coffee that Starfleet Command won't let me, or anyone from Voyager, take him under their command."

With a shrug, Chakotay folded his arms, "It's standard procedure for a cadet raised on a starship." Janeway wrinkled his nose and Chakotay chuckled, "We're family, more so than any other crew at this point."

"Yes, I know," Janeway drawled, eyes rolling upward. "Admiral Paris keeps reminded me, every time he reassigns someone off of Voyager. Minus senior staff, I haven't got many left. And that's not set in stone yet either."

"Well, I think I can speak for the entire senior staff on this," Chakotay straightened, hands clasped in front of him as he met her eyes, "If the cost of keeping Icheb in Starfleet is our assignment to Voyager... it's a sacrifice we're willing to make."

Janeway smiled sadly, eyes fluttering, "Thank you, Commander." She pressed her lips together, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

-.-.-

For the first time ever, Icheb was late to class. O'Briend glanced at his empty seat with narrowed eyes as he finished getting the rest of his students started on the lab work for today. It's the second part of a lab from a few weeks earlier, one Icheb had already completed.

"Has anyone seen Cadet Icheb?" O'Brien ventured, already wrinkling his nose as several students giggled.

"Mr. Roboto got held up by some security officers," a cadet in the back of the room called out. O'Brien scowled. He heard more than a few mutters about borg spies.

"It was an adminstrator and an ensign from the Titan, actually," Q pipped up as he trailed after Icheb entering the room. O'Brien pursed his lips as he caught sight of Icheb's dark sunglasses and Q's smug grin.

Icheb inclined his head towards O'Brien as he made his way to the front of the room, "I apologize for being tardy, Chief."

"Not a problem, cadet," O'Brien waved him over to his desk, already reaching for the datapad waiting there. He lowered his voice, speaking so only Icheb could hear him, "You've already finished this lab, but I have another assignment for you if you're interested."

"What is it?" Icheb tilted his head. He pushed his sunglasses up, squinting against the light. O'Brien chuckled and handed him the datapad.

"Think of it as extra credit," O'Brien explained, smiling, "And part of the assignment, is figuring out the assignment."

A wrinkled brow was Icheb's only response. O'Brien nudged him towards his desk, "You're welcome to work on it outside of class, and in class, when you finish early."

Q was immediately looking at the padd over Icheb's shoulder when he sat down. The sunglasses came back down a moment later and Q smothered a laugh in Icheb's shoulder itself before the brunali shrugged him off, scowling.

They bickered quietly. Most of the class ignored them, many of them fully absorbed in their lab. A few stiffened when Q asked, "Why did they call you Mr. Roboto? Is it a reference to something?"

"I assume so," Icheb shrugged, lips pursing. He was tapping at the padd, forehead wrinkling as he focused on the schematics O'Brien had given him. His tone was light, uninterested.

His friend's was not. Q frowned as he glanced around the room. His gaze zeroed in on the cadet who'd been speaking when they entered. A moment later, his eyes fluttered and his mouth fell open.

"Oh. It's a song." Q tilted his head, biting at his bottom lip, "But I don't think they knew that." Icheb spared him a quick glance. "It's not nearly as insulting as they intended."

Icheb hummed, head already turning back to the datapad. Q shuffled closer in his seat. He started pointing at things on the padd, which had Icheb's gaze narrowing before he started muttering under his breath.

Life support. Maximum range. Weapons compliment. Whether Icheb had figured out what he was meant to be doing didn't matter. O'Brien smirked. He'd probably rectify each and every flaw in the schematic with his upgrades just fine.

"Oh... what if you gave it cloaking?" Q asked, tugging on Icheb's arm.

"The Federation has a ban on cloaking technology," Icheb rolled his eyes, immediately wincing before he took a deep breath. Q bit his lip. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Q huffed, pouting as Icheb narrowed his eyes. A moment later he was suggesting a tractor beam.

O'Brien half listened as he circled the room. He made a mental note to ask Janeway who'd taught Icheb about shuttle usage. The lad didn't veto nearly as many suggestions from Q as he expected.

-.-.-

"Do you know the song Mr. Roboto?" Q asked as Tom Paris opened his front door. Janeway stood beside him, looking skyward.

Eyebrow arching, Tom smiled, "I do, yes."

"Yes! I knew you would!" Q clapped his hands together and pushed inside. Janeway gave Tom's shoulder a squeeze as she followed him in.

"His abilities don't translate technical information about a song into actual music," Janeway explained, lips twitching.

Tom scoffed, hands flying, "Of course not! Music has to be experienced!" He closed the door. His hands rubbed together, "I'm guessing you don't have it in your personal library, Captain?"

"I do not," Janeway sighed. Q was bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking expectantly at Tom. Eyes wide. Bottom lip puckered in a pout. Tom glanced once more at Janeway, eyebrow arched. She nodded, "Try not to corrupt him anymore than he already has been, hmm?"

Her expectations for that order being followed were low. Tom practically ran up the stairs, Q at his heels.

"Admiral," Janeway greeted the elder Paris as she walked into his living room. He looked up from where he sat on the floor with his granddaughter, brows arched high. She grinned, nodding towards the stairs, "Playdate."

"I should call Seven then," B'Elanna laughed, rubbing at her eyes. She was curled up in an armchair, a padd in her lap, "Harry was coming for dinner anyway."

Within an hour, every Voyager crewman still on earth arrived at the Paris residence. An impromptu potluck had been arranged. Mostly with delivery food. None of it was replicated.

"We had almost nothing but replicated food for 7 years," Tom pointed out, bouncing Miral in his arms as he wove between them all, "We are never passing up on fresh food again!"

A cheer of 'hear hear!' went around the living room and Janeway ducked her head to laugh. In a corner, Q and Icheb were sitting with their heads bowed over a padd and a set of headphones shared between them.

"I'm surprised," Janeway pulled her chin up, eyes sliding sideways to squint at Seven beside her. "You're not Q's biggest fan."

"For good reason," Seven quirked a brow. She sipped from her cup.

"But?" Janeway prompted, raising her own glass to her lips.

Seven's chin jotted out, lips curling slightly, "Icheb deserves to have friends. People who care for him." Her throat bobbed, "And I cannot deny that Q obviously cares for him a great deal."

Icheb grinned at something Q said, head rising slightly. The skin around his eyes crinkled. Q tapped on the sunglasses sitting in Icheb's hair, dropping them onto his nose. Her godson burst with laughter, falling forward into Icheb's chest. His hands curled in his shirt.

"He does," Janeway agreed, nodding. She pursed her lips, hiding her grin as she watched Icheb's cheeks flare pink.

"Chakotay said you had something you needed to speak with me about?" Seven switched gears abruptly, turning to put Icheb and the rest of the crew at her back. She was looking pointedly out the windows, out at the bay, at the clear water and foggy night.

She knew. Janeway knew she did. Seven's spine straightened. Her shoulders rolled back.

"Starfleet isn't willing to have a former borg in their ranks?" Seven guessed, turning her head sharply to meet Janeway's gaze as she stepped closer.

"Not one that wasn't already in Starfleet," Janeway sighed, rubbing at the side of her face, "Captain Picard's been facing some... pushback, as well, for that matter."

Seven nodded, chin dropping and eyes squeezing shut, "I understand."

"If you're set on it, I'll fight for you Seven," Janeway reached out, hand squeezing at her arm, "But I know you, know you can make it outside the Federation." She took a breath, squeezed again. Seven looked at her, lashes fluttering. Janeway set her jaw, "I'm putting all my eggs in another basket right now."

Eyes widening, Seven looked over her shoulder. "He's never been in the collective." She pursed her lips, "He won't admit... won't tell me what's happening with his classmates."

"For all of the Federation's ideals, it's still made up of individuals, some of them less than accepting," Janeway frowned. She followed Seven's gaze.

Icheb flicked Q's forehead as her godson gestured widely, nearly knocking something over. Running a hand through his curly hair, Q stuck his tongue out. Janeway smiled at their antics, the small teasing. She wasn't alone in that.

"Will it get better? Once he's an officer?" Seven asked, clearing her throat as she turned her gaze back to the window.

Shoulders sagging, Janeway blew out a breath, "It should. Might take a while. With a good captain, his talents will be recognized, his potential. He'd do very well."

"Then... keep all your 'eggs' in his basket," Seven told her, chin rising once more. Janeway smiled sadly. Nodded.

"Picard asked me about him, actually, after he heard about my 'taming' a Q," Janeway rolled her eyes. Seven scoffed.

"He's not feral, maybe," Seven hummed, arms crossing. Her lips flicked upwards into a smile as she teased, "Housebroken at best, really." Janeway laughed, clapping Seven on the back.

The night continued. Food and drink and stories were all shared in equal measure. Miral slept in the arms of whichever crewmember had stolen her last, barely stirring.

"Lieutenant Paris," Icheb appeared at Seven's elbow. Q at his side. The entire senior staff turned, as one, to look at the boys.

Eyebrows arched. Icheb didn't even flinch.

"I don't understand this song," Icheb gestured with an earbud in his hand. He squinted at the device. "What exactly is a centerfold?"

Tom choked on his drink. B'Elanna smirked, tilting her head to stare at her husband, "Yeah, Tom, what's a centerfold?"

Seven and Q both mirrored Icheb, brows arching. Janeway groaned. She pinched the bridge of her nose, "What did I say about corrupting him?"

"In my defense, that song is a classic," Tom pointed out, cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat before meeting Icheb's gaze, "A centerfold is the most center part of a magazine. It's a full page image, essentially."

"That doesn't explain the song," Q crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. His head tilted. Janeway could almost see the gears turning in his head.

It was only a matter of time before...

"Oh!" Q brightened, cackling as he shoved at Icheb's arms, "The magazine in the song is an explicit one."

Icheb's brows furrowed deeper, lips twisting into a deep frown, "I still don't understand."

"I'll explain it to you," Q tugged at Icheb's arm, still grinning as he dragged him away. Icheb blushed as he whispered in his ear. Seven was pining Tom with a hard gaze.

"I'm afraid you'll have to enlightenment me yourself, Lieutenant," Seven drawled. B'Elanna threw her head back, laughing hysterically. Harry fell into her shoulder, burying his own in the fabric of her shirt as Tom stuttered out an explanation.

Janeway glanced over her shoulder at where Icheb was now frowning at the earbud. His lips moved slowly, another question no doubt. Q was staring at his lips. His eyes fluttered, flicking up, as Icheb knocked his shoulder.

"I need another drink for this," Janeway sighed, head shaking as she tuned Tom out and went in search of something a little stronger than coffee. Surely an admiral kept expresso around. There was always the replicator if not.

Chapter Text

Admiral Paris arched a brow at the man making an impassioned argument for the banning of all borg technology aboard Federation ships. The rear admiral was using very broad terms. Owen was under no illusions regarding the real intent behind this proposal.

"And, should we do that, who's going to tell Captain Picard to leave the Enterprise?" Owen drawled, looking pointedly around the room. "Not to mention the precedent it sets. You'd be hard pressed to find a chief engineer who hasn't wanted to study a borg warp system."

"Studying the technology can be done under controlled conditions," the rear admiral argued, completely skipping over the question about Picard.

Three other admirals jumped on that idiocy. No one ever swung back around to Picard, but invasive tech or not, experimenting with the borg's dismantled bits and bobs had been exceptionally helpful in making advancements of their own the last decade.

Very few people had the guts to go up against Picard. He'd knocked more than a few admirals from their posts, all without giving up his command. That he and Janeway were now corresponding was the sort of thing that was going to push Owen himself into retirement. Not that his son or his crewmates were liable to let that happen anytime soon.

"I recommend that we table this discussion," the chairperson sighed, silencing the argument already boiling over at this meeting. Owen settled back in his chair, clocking facial expressions and body language.

They were split. Nearly down the middle.

Lips pursed, Owen glanced at his watch. He had a meeting with Janeway at the Academy. But this issue was too important to leave open.

"We ought to scrap the whole thing," Patterson snapped, nose wrinkling. The whole table looked to him, and those joining by hologram and video. His chin rose, "Whether it's borg or klingon, cardassian or ferengi, to ban the technology of any civilization outright, without caveat or exception, is against the very core of the Federation. Our values."

Throat bobbing, the chairperson glanced about. Owen raised his hand, "I second that." The original rear admiral scoffed, but once the hands were raised, the majority was reached. Barely.

Patterson smirked. He glanced towards Owen as the meeting broke up, eyebrow quirking as his hologram shimmered. Janeway had been his star pupil once upon a time. His protege.

Yet another reason not to bet against her. Patterson did not impress easily. Owen had never quite managed it, probably because Patterson had been in his class at the academy. You fail one fractal calculus midterm and the man never forgets...

"I hear you're on your way to the Academy," Patterson approached him after the meeting, smirking as he clasped his hands behind his back, "Mind if I join you?"

He knew that eyebrow arch. Owen nodded and inclined his head towards the door, "Let's not keep that protege of yours waiting, hmm?"

"Let's not," Patterson chuckled as they walked out of the meeting room towards the transporters. He winked as they stepped on to the platform, "I may require your support on another vote today."

Owen snorted, head shaking. "Oh no. If you're arguing with Janeway, you're on your own." He grinned at Owen, "I think we both know it's usually a fruitless effort."

"Nonsense!" Patterson waved a hand, smiling as the beams of lights enveloped them. They appeared at the private transporter hub right near the Provost's Office.

Janeway was waiting. Eyebrow arched as she greeted them, "Admirals." Owen followed Patterson into his office after Janeway, taking a seat in front of the desk with the captain. He was still a bit unsure why he'd been invited to this meeting. Patterson didn't really need back up, not with his own protege.

"Now, Katie, I thought we might discuss my most promising cadet," Patterson settled behind the desk with a sigh. Janeway hummed.

"You're buttering me up, admiral," Janeway narrowed her eyes, chin rising, "That's not usually a sign of good things to come."

Or maybe the admiral just knew Janeway better than Owen did.

Patterson grinned, hands templing as he leaned over his desk, "Now now, it's nothing of the sort. I've spoken with all of Icheb's teachers after our last conversation." Janeway shifted forward and Owen arched a brow. "To a one, they all speak highly of him, of his abilities."

"Of course," Janeway smirked, leaning back in her seat, hands gesturing wide, "Icheb is a diligent student, very bright, very hard working."

"Yes, he even earned a perfect score on his fractal calculus midterm," Patterson's lips twitched up, eyes flicking towards Owen as Janeway chuckled.

Owen rolled his eyes. The man was truly obsessed.

"I know you're hoping for Icheb to graduate at the end of this semester." Patterson raised his chin, gaze focusing as Janeway's arms settled on her armrests. "I have some reservations about that. The standard timeline for the academy is 4 years. This is, technically, only his second."

"I am aware of the standard timeline of the Academy," Janeway drawled. Her lips twitched down, "Icheb has more than enough credits, and as I understand it, he's enrolled in the last of the required courses now. He doesn't even need the next quarter."

"It's not his credits that are the issue," Patterson spoke carefully. Owen smirked as Janeway mirrored him, chin rising and eyes narrowing.

Janeway gestured forward, prompting him, "Please, enlightenment me then."

With a sigh, Patterson leaned back in his chair, "I'd like him to take a course with field exercises-"

"Icheb participated in several away missions aboard Voyager." Janeway raises a hand to stop him, "I completed the course substitution forms myself and, if I recall correctly, you signed off on them before we arrived in the Alpha quadrant."

"I did and those are reflected in his record," Patterson nodded, lips pursing. Owen glanced from him to Janeway. He'd never witnessed someone cutting Patterson off. And he'd certainly never seen someone get away with it.

It's almost as surprising as Janeway not demanding the point. Patterson continued to draw things out.

"I have no doubts as to Icheb's competancy. Or even his ability to follow orders," Patterson brought his hands up, gestures sharp as he looked at Janeway, "His instructors are beyond impressed with his abilities. As am I. He could fill nearly any station aboard a starship tomorrow I'm sure."

"But?" Janeway pushed, brows lowering.

Patterson sighed again, head shaking, "He's worked exclusively with your crew, with his family, essentially. And his instructors have all commented on the... ostracizing, he's faced from the other cadets."

At that Owen snorted, "Water balloons are ostracizing now are they?" Patterson's gaze turned on him, a proper glare and Owen just smiled. "You're worried he won't be able to work with his crew aboard another ship?"

"It's a concern," Patterson hummed, inclining his head forward.

"Collaboration, teamwork, it's all built on trust," Janeway said, hand rising from the armrest to wave towards the windows, "In his position, do you think Icheb should trust the classmates he's interacted with so far?"

Smothering a laugh, Owen watched Patterson grimace. "A valid point. As is the one that the only person Icheb has worked with collaboratively outside of your crew..." Patterson's eyebrows rose as his forehead wrinkled, "...is your godson."

"Q?" Janeway's eyes fluttered and her lips pursed.

Owen winced. Patterson wasn't aware of the Continuum. His positions at the Fleet Yards and at the Academy had kept him well away from the need to know.

"According to O'Brien, Icheb fielded several suggestions from your godson while working on an advanced engineering problem," Patterson explained, eyes flicking between them, "Q and Icheb apparently collaborate during his labs, when necessary, where previously Icheb had completed any group work individually."

"Yes, Q's been attending several of his classes with him. It's the best way to keep him out of trouble," Janeway laughed lightly, a smile cutting across her face.

Straightening, Patterson's gaze focused on her, "Yes... from what I've heard, Q doesn't play well with others. The little I was cleared to see in his file made him sound quite... colorful."

"Junior isn't as difficult as his father, but their species has..." Janeway paused, brow furrowing as she pursed her lip, "...a predilection, you might say, for trouble. They find our rules archaic."

"His file claims he's the son of an ambassador," Patterson leveled his gaze.

Janeway met it easily, not even blinking, "Senior was First Contact between their species and the Federation." She rolled her eyes, "Compared to the others I've met, he's almost reasonable. But he's not shy about his disdain for, or his amusement with the Federation."

With a small chuckle, Patterson hummed, "And yet he named you godmother to his son." Hands folding in front of him, Patterson cleared his throat, "I'd like Icheb to take a survival course next quarter. Without Q. It's a class for fourth years who want extra field experience."

"Another quarter would have him graduating midsemester wouldn't it?" Owen jumped in, clearing his throat when two sets of sharp eyes turned on him. He pushed through, staring them down, "If he takes two field courses along with his usual load of credits, Icheb would qualify go graduate as a lieutenant, wouldn't he, Aster?"

"Yes, I believe so." Patterson's eyes fluttered. Owen smirked and turned his full attention on Janeway.

"There is a very promising commander set to be promoted for command in a few months. He'll be in need of a new science officer as well, I believe," Owen drawled, rubbing absently at his jawline as Patterson leaned forward.

Eyes narrowing, Patterson guess it in one, "You're giving Riker the Titan?" Owen shrugged. Patterson snorted, "Hell of a wedding present, Owen."

"And long overdue," Janeway hummed, held forward as she leaned back, "Riker's an exceptional officer. And Troi is the most gifted counselor in the fleet to hear Picard tell it."

"On both points, I'm inclined to agree with him," Owen told her, tilting his head forward. Patterson's eyes flicked towards Janeway as she drummed her fingers on the armest. Her jaw clenched.

"I'll speak with Icheb," Janeway agreed, nodding slowly. Her gaze sharpened on Patterson, "The survival course, and you'll approve his petition to graduate early?"

Patterson's fingers twitched, eyes shimmering briefly, "There's a seminar, a close study on the decisions of various captains throughout our history."

"You want him to take it?" Janeway squinted at him, brows lowering. Owen frowned at the other admiral.

"No." Patterson shook his head, smirking, "I want you to teach it. Next semester. You and someone from our engineering faculty."

"O'Brien?" Janeway grinned as Patterson's smirk flattened. She waved her hand vaguely upward, "I'll do it. I have the time before Voyager is out of spacedock. I'll teach the class. But O'Brien has served under at least two of the captains I expect to see on the syllabus."

"Three actually, but he refuses every semester. If you can convince him, he's yours." Patterson agreed immediately. He and Janeway shook on it, laughter bright as she teased him about wasting no time in turning her into a professor.

It was easy to smile along with them. Janeway in a good mood was what he needed for his own conversation with the captain. He didn't have nearly the history with her that Patterson boasted.

"There is another matter I want to discuss with you," Owen broached the issue as they exited the Provost's Office.

"I assumed you didn't ask to meet just so you could witness Admiral Patterson and I argue," Janeway clasped her hands behind her back.

They walked along the water, watching the students scramble across campus in various states of panic. Midterms were finishing up.

Owen smiled to himself. He turned his head to meet Janeway's curious gaze, "The admiralty is split on the issue of the borg." Her jaw clenched. "Unfortunately, that means they're also split on the issue of Icheb."

"I heard a rumor about all borg tech being banned from Starfleet vessels," Janeway sighed, arms crossing as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It failed. Patterson managed to shame enough of them with a reminder about Starfleet values," Owen told her, head shaking, "But it caused quite the debate first."

Whether Owen wanted to admit it or not, most the admiralty had been out of the captain's seat too long to have faced the borg themselves. They relied, heavily, on the younger voices who had.

Voices like the rear admiral who'd brought forth the petition that morning against borg technology. A full on ban. Starfleet didn't have many of those.

"Riker isn't the only one who could be facing a promotion," Owen stopped, facing her fully. Janeway stiffened. "You could do a lot of good, with a couple boxed pips on your collar."

She swallowed, gaze shifting over his shoulder to the cadets ambling over the campus behind him. Lips pursed, she looked back at him, "And what happens to Voyager? My crew? If I accept that promotion."

"What happens to them if you don't?" Owen challenged. They kept walking then. Janeway was silent.

Music cut through the tension in the air. A classic song that Owen was far too familiar with in his own opinion. He groaned, already expecting to see his son marching around campus with some excuse for blasting something from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

"Your son's idea of not corrupting my godson leaves something to be desired," Janeway huffed, head shaking as she gestured across the lawn.

Several meters away, Owen could just make out the Q's curls as he danced to the beat. He was attempting to drag his security detail into it by the look of things. A few cadets could be seen swaying or rocking their head to the rhythm as they passed by.

Eyes dropping, Owen arched a brow at the cadet sitting in the grass nearby. Icheb had his head bowed over a padd, gaze intent upon whatever he was reading. A finger tapping at his thigh betrayed him though.

"Q." Icheb called out, just loud enough for his voice to carry. "It's impolite to force your musical taste on others."

"You like it and you know it!" Q squawked, crashing into Icheb's side as he dived onto the ground. The music was cut off though. Headphones produced from somewhere.

The Academy, as always, kept moving. Janeway laughed, head falling back.

"At least he listens to someone," she muttered. Owen arched a brow. He decided against that battle immediately, focusing back on his main argument.

"Something I'm sure the admiralty would find interesting," Owen hummed, tilting his head as they continued walking, "Useful even, considering the trouble Qs tend to cause when they pop up on starships."

Chapter Text

Chest heaving, Icheb rose up on to his elbows. He blinked slowly. With a scowl, he sat up, pulling his knees closer and leaning forward.

Janeway had told Q that dreams were how people processed their emotions.

A shiver ran up his spine as Icheb closed his eyes again, head in his hands. He considered the possibility.

It made sense, of course. Most of his dreams since arriving on Earth had been about the Academy. His classmates. Not nightmares. Simply... uncomfortable dreams.

This had not been one of those dreams. This had been entirely different. Not... totally unpleasant.

Twice now he'd dreamed of Q. Of the way Q touched him, almost constantly. He'd always been tactile. Q didn't really grasp boundaries. But things had shifted, somehow, after their conversation on Voyager.

Q's touches lingered. And Icheb was dreaming about it. His body reacting to the dreams in ways that he understood in a clinic manner, but not emotionally.

Racing heart beat. Elevated body temperature. Increased blood flow to the corpora cavernosa.

Arousal. He was aroused by his dreasm, by the idea of Q touching him. Of his fingers gliding over Icheb's bare flesh.

Shaking his head, Icheb frowned. He turned his head to look longingly at his regeneration alcove. He never had this problem when he regenerated.

His eyes flicked to the clock. It was early morning. Seven's regeneration cycle would not be complete for some time. He had time, to deal with the situation. With his physiological response.

In the cool stream of water, his body temperature lowered. Calmer. Steadier, he attempted to analyze what emotions his brain was trying to process. An attempt that proved fruitless.

There was no rational reason for him to be dreaming of Q in this context. Dreams could be irrational. He'd read several articles on the psychology behind dreams after the first incident. He was missing something, a perspective or an approach that he was not familiar enough with the subject matter to consider.

It was afternoon on Vulcanis.

"Icheb. This is not the day or hour of our scheduled communication." Tuvok's voice was neither warm nor cold. It was simply neutral, same as his expression.

"Is this moment inconvenient?" Icheb asked, mirroring the arched brow that rose on Tuvok's face.

"It is not," Tuvok waited for Icheb to continue. His eyebrow arched further when Icheb struggle to speak. "Is something wrong, Icheb? You are not prone to spontaneity and your silence is... disconcerting."

Shifting in his seat in front of the communication terminal. He glanced towards Seven's door, lips pursing. "Captain Janeway told Q that dreams are a way to process emotions. Do they have any other function?"

"Dreams do not have a set function. Their purpose and meaning vary dependent not just on the species experiencing them, but on the culture of the individual."

Icheb frowned, "The interpretation of dreams is entirely subjective then?"

"Yes," Tuvok inclined his head, "May I inquire as to the reason for your questions?" Icheb shifted again and Tuvok straightened, almost imperceptibly. "On last we spoke, we had discussed your difficulty transitioning to sleep versus regeneration."

Shoulders slumping, Icheb narrowed his eyes on the controls of the terminal. He rubbed absently at his arm, startling as his hand made contact with bare skin. His shirt had only short sleeves and he had not yet retrieved a sweater from his wardrobe.

"You appear distressed," Tuvok commented and Icheb blushed. His hand dropped to his lap and his fingers twisted together as Tuvok hummed, "As I recall, you said that sleeping was not as restful as regeneration."

"It's not," Icheb frowned, nose wrinkling. Tuvok arched a brow again. Icheb huffed, "I know I can't regenerate like I use to, but it's still better than sleep. It's... calming."

"Without a cortical node, your 'regeneration' is now merely a method of meditation. While it may help center you and organize your thoughts, it is not a replacement for sleep."

Tuvok's gaze was now pointed. Focused. Icheb sighed, meeting his sharp eyes with his own, "I am sleeping, Tuvok. It is simply... less pleasant."

"Your dreams are causing you discomfort," Tuvok stated. He didn't blink until Icheb nodded slowly. "Do you wish to discuss them?"

"They're normally not..." Icheb trailed off, ducking his head. He didn't look at Tuvok as he said, "I didn't like them, before, but they're different now. I don't know what that means."

If he were speaking to anyone else, Icheb expected they might ask him to clarify. Tuvok did not pry. He understood that if Icheb wanted to share, he would.

Instead, the vulcan merely inclined his head forward slightly, "It is my understanding that dreams change regularly. In my own experience, the same dream repeated has been a sign of emotional imbalance."

"So dreams can reflect our emotional state? What we're feeling?" Icheb's head snapped up, eyes fluttering as his cheeks pinked.

Once more, the eyebrow arched. Icheb blushed brighter.

"Are you embarrassed by the emotions that you believe your dreams may reflect?" Tuvok asked and Icheb pursed his lips. He nodded mutely. "Shame is not logical, Icheb. You have no control over what you dream about. Nor can you control your emotions, only how you respond to them."

It was several moments before Icheb nodded, swallowing thickly, "I don't understand why the dreams have changed now though."

"Changes, dreams or otherwise, are often a reaction to something," Tuvok reminded him. The silence stretched, but Tuvok didn't let it linger this time. "I understand there was an incident recently. With Q."

"We had an argument," Icheb rubbed at his arm again, head ducking low, "I did not control my response to my emotions well."

"You are young, and still learning," Tuvok said. "My reason for bringing it up is not to discuss your response, but to ask if you believe it is connected. Did the events that transpired between yourself and Q a few days ago change something between the two of you?"

Icheb wished desperately to be wearing a sweater. Not for warmth, but to hide the fact that his whole body was now rising in temperature once again. His skin growing red. Eyes widening, he opened his mouth to say something, but no words were forthcoming.

"By your reaction, I can only assume that the answer is yes," Tuvok's lips curved just slightly upward. The barest of twitches.

"He asked me if he could stay," Icheb mumbled. Tuvok's forehead creased as he leaned closer. His ears twitched. Icheb glanced up, watching Tuvok through his lashes, "If... if it was okay if he didn't leave, once he got his powers under control again."

Tuvok tilted his chin up, "And your response?" Icheb shifted in his seat, fidgeting. Twitching.

"I said yes."

Vulcans were not overly expressive, as a rule. Tuvok especially. And yet, Icheb could've sworn the vulcan was laughing at him.

"In retrospect," Icheb cleared his throat, "My outburst, when I was arguing with Q, might have... might have stemmed from my anger that he would leave again. Possibly."

"Possibly?" Tuvok arched a brow, lip nearly pulling in to a smirk. Icheb scowled, arms crossing.

It was childish, petulant even, to whine. Icheb did it anyway. Tuvok ignored him. Thankfully.

"Your attachment to Q was confirmed to be reciprocated. An emotional reaction is to be expected," Tuvok spoke plainly even as Icheb straightened at the word 'attachment.' His neutral expression and tone firm as he asked, "Could that explain your more recent dreams?"

"An emotional reaction?" Icheb swallowed, arms wrapping tighter around himself.

His reaction to his dreams was physical. Overwhelmingly so. The dreams themselves as well. But... they were not lacking in emotion.

"How do I know what's my real emotion and what's just the dream?" Icheb asked, brows furrowing as Tuvok hummed again.

"A curious question," Tuvok commented, eyes flicking over Icheb. The teen frowned. "Why do you assume that your emotions in the dream and outside of it are different?"

Icheb did not appreciate that line of questioning. He felt his face growing warm again. Tuvok watched him intently.

"There is no requirement that you must act on your emotions, Icheb, but it is important to recognize them or they will consume you."

"I am... unfamiliar, with the emotions that I'm feeling," Icheb cleared his throat and straightened. Tuvok had once explained that physical control could assist in maintaining emotional control.

Tom Paris had laughed at that, telling Icheb that 'fake it till you make it only works if you're good at lying to yourself.'

In either case, he did not want to fidget again. Even as Tuvok hummed. Again.

"Perhaps it would benefit you to explore these emotions then, to consider your dreams a tool in which to study yourself." Tuvok gave him a pointed look, "Such an endeavor could be perilous, if you are not honest with yourself, Icheb."

He didn't fidget. He didn't. His shoulders twitched and he nodded, "I understand."

It was a lie. He didn't understand. But he would regenerate later and once Icheb ordered his thoughts, it would. Tuvok was the most rational and logical person Icheb knew. Obviously, it would make sense once Icheb had some distance.

"Thank you, Tuvok," Icheb inclined his head and Tuvok raised his hand in the ta'al.

"Live long and prosper, Icheb."

Smiling softly, Icheb replied, "Peace and long life" before ending the transmission.

The clock in the small kitchen informed him that there was still some time before Seven would be awake. Icheb retrieved a sweater from his room before embarking on his mission. He'd helped Neelix on occassion aboard Voyager, and assisted Seven multiple times. Breakfast couldn't be that difficult.

He managed not to burn anything, at least.

Chapter Text

Eavesdropping was considered rude on Earth. Luckily, Q wasn't from Earth and he didn't care. Besides, if his Aunt Kathy didn't want people to listen in, she wouldn't talk so loud.

And! It was hardly his fault that the Federation used glass doors on this planet. He'd popped in to the hallway outside of Janeway's office rather than into the office itself after all.

Maybe there was something to those manners she was always going on about after all.

"Whether the admirals view his friendship with Q as a plus or a minus, it's certainly going to be a factor in their decision," Janeway sighed as she spoke with someone through the communication terminal at her desk.

Q ducked his head closer to the door and leaned back into the wall. The sharp and proper voice that followed provided evidence to the identity of her conversation partner.

His father's favorite human.

"With everything that his father's done, I'm surprised they've agreed to let him stay with you," Captain Picard snorted, his tone dry and humorless, "The Continuum has hardly set a precedent of cooperation with the Federation."

For all of his father's ramblings about Jean-Luc Picard, it didn't appear that the affection was mutual. Q smirked to himself. That was good to know.

"I didn't give them much choice to be honest," Janeway chuckled. Q fidgeted, lips twitching downward at her words. She leaned back in her chair, hands clasped over her abdomen, "And Q isn't his father. He cares."

Brows furrowing, Q leaned closer. He didn't understand the purpose of this conversation. What did him being a Q have to do with Icheb?

Picard hummed, voice gruff as he laughed, "For Icheb especially it seems. Did I read that report right? He was willing to bear responsibility, as a human, without powers, to find a cure for Icheb?"

"It was all a test from Senior, but yes," Janeway drawled, head shaking. Q stole a glance through the glass door. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

He didn't particularly like this expression on her face. Certainly not while she was discussing him.

"Perhaps Senior should take a lesson from his son every now and then," Picard snorted.

A smile flickered over Janeway's face. Q ducked back as her head rose. A warmth spread through his chest.

"Regardless, Paris is right. You've won against the Continuum. The borg." Picard chuckled softly. His voice lowered, growing deeper. "Compared to them, a few admirals letting fear make their decisions... hardly a challenge, not for you."

"It's not the challenge that gives me pause." Janeway said. She pursed her lips, leaning over her desk, "If it were you, would you give up command, give up the Enterprise?"

Q's head whipped to the side. That was a turn he hadn't expected. He wished desperately that his powers extended to reading minds.

"If it were me?" Picard hummed. He breathed out. Q wrinkled his nose, wishing he could see Picard's expressions. His face.

Humans said a lot without words.

Janeway nodded, brow furrowing, "If It were your crew, their futures at stake, their happiness." Q stiffened.

"In a heartbeat." Picard responded and the office went quiet. Q resisted the temptation to barge in, to find out what was happening as Janeway stared at her screen.

Eventually, she smiled, nodding as she reached for the button to sign off, "Thank you, Jean-Luc." Another moment, a beat of her heart, and she laughed, "You can come in now Q."

Ducking his head around the door, Q scowled, "How did you know I was here? When did-"

"You're not subtle," Janeway arched a brow. Her hand rose and fingers folded inward to beckon him forward.

"In my defense, you told me I should use my powers a little bit more," Q pouted, lips puckering as he plopped into a chair in front of her desk. "I was only popping in for a visit."

"Curiosity got the best of you, huh?" Janeway shook her head, still laughing. Still smiling.

He ducked his head, nodding slowly. Pursing his lips, Q stared up at her through his lashes, "Aunt Kathy?"

She hummed, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her arm up on the desk. The smile was still in place even then. Her eyes were soft, almost fond.

"Am I... am I causing problems? For you and Icheb?" He fidgeted and Janeway sighed, head tilting. The smile finally dropped.

"Not causing, no, more... exacerbating," Janeway frowned slightly. She shook her head and leaned back, "It's nothing you need to worry about."

Narrowing his eyes, Q raised his chin, "Then why-"

"There are some within the Federation who are nervous about having someone who was once a borg in Starfleet." His nose wrinkled at her words and Janeway inclined her head, "Exactly."

"But... Icheb being friends with me, it makes it more complicated, doesn't it?" Q folded his arms across his chest. She shrugged, hands gesturing out.

A smirk twitched at her lips, "Complicate, yes. Hinder, no." She stood up, hands bracing on the desk as she leaned forward, "Your friendship isn't a problem, Q, is that clear?"

Biting at his lip, Q nodded softly, "Yes, Aunt Kathy."

"Good," Janeway straightened, hands moving to her hips, "You're more than welcome to stay with me as long as you like."

Q felt his lips tug at his cheeks, a smile spreading across his face. He took a breath, laughing lightly, "Thanks Aunt Kathy."

"There is something I wanted to ask you about though." Janeway sat on the edge of her desk. Her hands clasped in front of her, "I've been offered a promotion to Rear Admiral."

That explained the weird question for Picard. Sort of. He tilted his head.

"And I've decided to take it." Janeway informed him, lips pursing.

"That's what you were talking about with Picard. You're giving up command of Voyager." Q wrinkled his nose, frowning. He couldn't really imagine the ship without her.

Janeway laughed, ducking her head. Her smile was sad as she said, "An unfortunate byproduct of the promotion I'm afraid."

She could turn it down. Could keep her command. Q considered what Picard had said, about her crew, their futures. About Icheb.

"There's always pros and cons to every change in duty station," Janeway cut off his train of thought. "The promotion isn't what I wanted to ask you about." He tilted his head.

"What did you want to ask me about then?"

"Well, you are my godson," Janeway started, smirking, "And it's tradition, at promotion ceremonies, for family to participate in the ceremony, replacing the pips on the collar in this case."

Q's mouth fell open, eyes fluttering. He knew what she was talking about. The information dropped into his head like a stone sinking in a river.

"I don't suppose I could convince you?" Janeway asked.

"You want me to be the one that pins on your new rank?" Q blinked at her. Eyes wide as he swallowed thickly. She nodded.

Brow arching, Janeway leaned forward to squeeze his shoulder, "You can think about it, if you want."

"No! I want to do it!" Q jumped up. Janeway startled. He flushed, head ducking to the side. A hand cupped his cheek.

"Alright," Janeway laughed softly, smiling at him again. He preened under her attention. She pulled him in to a hug and kissed the side of his head, "Now, how about some lunch, hmm?"

"Actual food or replicated food?" Q asked, arms crossing as she pulled away.

Eyes rolling, she squeezed his shoulders, "I'll let you pick." Q bounced on the balls of his feet. He didn't wait another moment before snapping his finger.

"Q!" Janeway huffed as they appeared outside restaurant a few blocks away. She stumbled slightly, getting her feet under herself properly.

"You said I could pick, Aunt Kathy," Q grinned at her and she sighed heavily. "And! It let me practice with my powers! Which you said I needed to do more."

Janeway folded her arms across her chest, "Warn me next time, or it's replicated food for a week for both of us."

With a whine, Q puckered his lips and placed his head on her shoulders, "But Aunt Kathy~" She rolled her eyes. He laughed, rushing to catch up as she walked inside. "It's Andorian food! I heard some of the cadets on campus mention this place when I was waiting for Icheb to finish one of his tests."

Chapter Text

Walking on a ship was easier than on planets. Naomi understood why, of course, she'd been born on a space ship, lived on one for nearly her whole life. The gravity of any world felt off for her, even those that matched the standard simulated gravity of Federation vessels.

No matter how beautiful Ktaris was or how much she enjoyed her father showing her his home, her home would always be Voyager. The best Intrepid-class vessel to ever come out of the Utopia Planitia Shipyards.

Her nacelles lowered for sub-light, Voyager shined brighter than any star through the porthole as they approached the planet. Naomi grinned, hands pressed to the translucent aluminum alloy separating her from the vacuum of space. Her breaths came easier, with recycled air in her lungs and her home in sight.

Their shuttle did not approach the vessel though, or any of the others orbiting the planet. Naomi's smile faltered as they began their descent.

"Naomi?" her mother tapped on her shoulder and with a huff, she dutifully followed Samantha back to their seats. Her lips puckering into a pout as she glanced back at the window. Her father chuckled

"Voyager will still be there after we land," Greskrendtregk promised her, kissing the top of her head as she settled between her parents. Naomi nodded shortly. She leaned into his side.

While Voyager would still be in space dock, they would not. The orders had come through only a few days before. Her parents had broken the news before they left. It was happening. For real.

Her mother had been reassigned to Deep Space 9. They weren't going back to Voyager after this visit.

They weren't going home.

She sunk further into her father's side, blinking away tears as the comfort of a thousand stars gave way to a boring blue. The shuttle descended through the clouds. Her ears popped and Naomi took a breath.

A faint jostling signaled the landing gear's contact with the ground. Samantha stood, smile tight as she took Naomi's hand. Her mother's other hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb flicking away tears.

"I know there's been a lot of changes recently," Samantha started. Her head tilted as Greskrendtregk stood up as well.

Her parents crouched in front of her and Naomi shook her head, exhaling sharply, "I'm fine." She hopped up, already smiling wide before she pushed past them, "Come on, we can't keep the captain waiting!"

As promised in her latest message, Captain Janeway stood on the platform outside. Seven of Nine right beside her. Naomi grinned and rushed forward. Her smile faltered when she caught sight of the boy standing next to the captain.

"What are *you* doing here?" Naomi narrowed her eyes on the curly mop of Q. The younger one.

She might very well be the only person in existence to prefer the older Q to the younger. Or so the brow arching over the captain's sunglasses implied.

The hissing of her name by her mother did not stop Naomi. She crossed her arms, chin rising as she glared at Q. "Did you get Icheb in trouble again?"

With a squawk, Q gaped at her, "No!" He stomped his foot and turned to Captain Janeway. His nose wrinkled. "See! I didn't need to come, I could-"

"You're to stay in my line of sight until Icheb finishes his away mission," Janeway cut him off, hand rising to wag a finger in his face, bopping his nose once, "You can't be trusted not to meddle."

Naomi smirked. She clasped her hands behind her back as she looked up at Q, mirroring Seven. He puckered his lips to pout, but the moment the captain looked away he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Icheb told me to inform you he regrets not being here to greet you," Seven stepped up then, inclining her head forward. They both ignored Q as she spoke, "He promises to make it up to you when he returns."

They exchanged a smile as the corporeal form of irritation started to whine and complain. Q hung off the captain's arm, chin tucked over her shoulder, "This is entirely unfair!"

With a pointed roll of her eyes, Seven spread her arms wide and Naomi launched herself at the woman. She giggled, "At least Q hasn't driven you away too."

Another squawk and Q whirled around. He choked on his words, already glaring, "I didn't drive anyone away!"

"If you say so," Naomi clicked her tongue and looked up at him. Leaning over to squint at her, Q managed to look about as intimidating as a dung beetle.

"Icheb is taking some boring survival class. I had nothing to do with his absence," Q sniffed, chin rising expectantly. "There's proof and everything."

"Mhmm, sure," Naomi pursed her lips, hand on her hip. Q's jaw clicked. He snapped back up, arms flailing as he turned to Captain Janeway.

"This is ridiculous!" Q hissed, "It's not like I couldn't interfere later, using my powers." The captain smirked and Naomi perked up as she patted lightly at Q's cheek.

"The proctors of the exam have been instructed to inform me immediately of any 'oddities,'" Janeway told him, chin dropping as her gaze leveled on him over her sunglasses, "And you wouldn't want to get in trouble for something you haven't even done yet, now, would you?"

Q groaned, head falling back. He stomped his foot. Just as childlike as she remembered him. Naomi bit her lip to keep from laughing as Q threw a tantrum.

All around them, eyes flickered over Q's dramatics. He dropped his head to Janeway's shoulder again as he continued to whine. The captain pet at his hair absently as she greeted Naomi's parents.

Obviously, she'd grown well accustomed to Q's... nonsense. Accommodating even.

When they departed, Captain Janeway slowed her steps to walk beside Naomi. A development Naomi had no plans to complain about. She preened as the captain asked her about her studies. Her plans.

The captain gave excellent advise and Naomi had a lot of decisions to make. The station school on DS9 offered in person classes, if she wanted to attend rather than using the self-paced modules.

Or she could stay with her father. His work wouldn't allow him to transfer as quickly as her mother, so they'd be living apart for a few months. Naomi liked her room on Ktaris. DS9 was at least in space though.

Lots of decisions. Choices. More than Naomi had ever had before. More complicated.

"I'm sure whatever you decide, you'll make the most of your situation," Captain Janeway smiled down at her. Naomi nodded sharply.

"Of course!" Naomi chirped, rolling her shoulders back, "If I'm to be the captain of my own vessel one day, I'll have to make way bigger decisions too. So, this is just practice, for later."

Captain Janeway inclined her head forward, "Understood." Her lips pursed. "Big decisions can come with a lot of big emotions too." Her gaze flicked towards Q. "It's a skill, learning to process them in a healthy manner."

Forehead wrinkling, Naomi followed her gaze. Q was walking with her father. The both of them smiling, laughing, as they talked.

Naomi scowled, arms crossing. "I'm fine," she sniffed, "I can handle anything." Her chin rose up, defiant, and the captain smiled.

"Even so, we all need a little help, every now and then," Janeway rubbed a hand over Naomi's back, "Sometimes, asking for the help can be the hard part."

"You mean, like Q did? Coming to stay with you?" Naomi asked, face scrunching up. "I'm not like him."

The captain cleared her throat, "Well, hopefully the two of you will find some common ground this visit anyway." She quirked a brow, "Icheb is looking forward to showing you around the Academy, and Q usually tags along for his classes."

Glancing back at Q, Naomi surveyed the older boy. Icheb said Qs grew much slower than most humanoid species, they matured over centuries, not decades.

She grew quicker. Ktarian development more than twice as fast as the average humanoid species.

Maybe that's why Q bothered her so much. Why he seemed so immature.

His expressions, his gestures, even his laugh - they were all much more animated than the prospect of ktarian food ought to illicit. Yet he was blathering on, asking odd questions and begging for recipes he could add to the replicator in the captain's quarters.

Her father laughed with him, agreeing readily. Greskrendtregk smiled at the younger man and Naomi frowned at the back of Q's head.

"Maybe," Naomi bit at her bottom lip. The captain squeezed at her shoulder. "I'll try," Naomi sighed, arms crossing, "But he makes it very difficult to like him."

The captain chortled. A smile played at her lips as she gave a clipped nod, "Of course." She clasped her hands behind her back and Naomi unconsciously mimicked her, straightening as Captain Janeway drawled, "I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that Q tends to monopolize Icheb's time when he's around. Not to mention..." she looked pointedly towards Greskrendtregk, "...everyone else's."

Naomi stiffened. She rolled her shoulders back. "I'm not jealous," Naomi told her. Over her head, the captain and her mother exchanged a look. She ignored them both and ran ahead.

They could have whatever silent conversation they wanted, but Naomi wasn't lying. She had no reason to be jealous of Q.

Seven took her hand when Naomi reached for hers. Her own gaze cutting as she narrowed her eyes on Q.

At least one person understood.

"You will have no need for ktarian beer or wine, Q," Seven called out to the boy, cutting off his latest question with a sharp tone.

Q immediately deflated. His shoulders sagged and Naomi smirked as Seven actively glared at him. Her head tilted, eyes hard.

"By Terran customs, you're not yet of an age to drink."

"You don't even know how old I really am," Q sniffed, tossing his head back, "And *technically,* the Continuum doesn't have any age restrictions on imbibbing alcohol" Q smirked, perking back up as he winked at Seven over his shoulder, "And I can't get drunk anyway."

"If it has no effect, you have no reason to drink it," Greskrendtregk teased him, clapping him on the shoulder. Naomi frowned.

Q placed a hand over his chest, gasping loudly, "What if I like the taste?!" At that, all of the adults snorted and Q began to pout. Again. Did he ever do anything else?

They arrived at the Paris household despite all of the distractions. Everyone laughed as Q flopped onto the couch, drapping himself over the cushions.

Wrinkling her nose, Naomi surveyed him. He really wasn't that funny. Yet people kept laughing, kept encouraging him. She couldn't understand why everyone kept entertaining all of his silliness.

Why Icheb, of all people, liked having him around. An unfathomable mystery!

Eventually, he'd leave though. Just like last time.

Naomi narrowed her eyes on him and approached the couch. She perched herself on the coffee table, hands in her lap. After a moment, she shoved at his shoulder.

"What?" Q squinted at her, head popping up as he leaned away. His arms crossed as she surveyed him.

The messy curls. The graphic t-shirt and the jacket with all the patches. He didn't just act ridiculous, he looked it too.

"I'm just curious," Naomi hummed, eyebrow arching. She leaned forward. "When are you going home again?" He flushed, head ducking low.

Q sat up. A scowl twisting at his features as he snapped back, "When are you?!" Their eyes locked, glares firmly in place as they stared one another down.

"Naomi," her mother warned. Turning her head, Naomi stood, breaking eye contact. Q smirked as she stomped away with a huff.

Almost immediately, her father snatched her up, pulling her into his arms. Craddling her. Naomi ducked her head to the crook of his neck, hiding a smile.

She liked when he carried her around, holding her in his arms. Greskrendtregk hadn't gotten to do that a lot. He rocked her like a baby and Naomi let him, even if she was too old for such things. Too big.

"I don't know why Icheb likes him so much," Naomi grumbled, voice low so only her father could hear. A hand rubbed at her back and Naomi sunk further into her father's chest. "Q is stupid, and annoying."

Her father pressed a kiss to her head. "Not everyone has the same taste in companionship," Greskrendtregk hummed, bouncing her lightly, "And I'm sure your friendship with Icheb is different than the one Icheb shares with Q."

Frowning, Naomi nodded, "Very different." Her father sighed as she clipped her chin over his shoulder to glare back at Q. Her lips puckered, but she didn't pout.

Seven didn't pout, or the captain, so she wouldn't either.

Unlike some people.

"Finally!" Q exclaimed a short while later. He jumped up from the couch, practically flinging himself at Icheb when he walked through the door.

Icheb startled, catching Q in the sudden hug. His lips twitched up into a smile. Q started tugging on his arm, dragging him deeper into the house.

"I have been exceptionally bored!" Q complained, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he shoved insistently at Icheb, "Naomi's been annoying me the whole time!"

"Have not!" Naomi snapped, dropping from her father's arms. "You're the one who's been a drama queen all day, just because you couldn't bother Icheb," she pointed an accusatory finger at the boy. Icheb actually grinned at her words.

With a huff, Q leaned over, chin up so he could talk down to her, literally *and* figuratively. "It's not bothering," Q corrected her, "I'm his best friend, I'm never a bother."

Naomi scoffed, head shaking, "You're not his best friend. I am." Her hands settled on her hips as Q squawked. He stomped his foot and Naomi puffed her chest out.

"You've grown since I saw you last," Icheb cut in, leveling his own gaze on her. He clasped his hands behind his back, eyebrow quirking up, "Less than ideal."

"Only if you're worried about me getting taller than you," Naomi drawled, rocking forward as she teased him, "Are you worried Icheb?" She giggled as Icheb wrinkled his nose.

Q snickered, muffling himself against Icheb's shoulder. Jaw clicking, Icheb hummed, words clipped, "Worry would be irrational. It serves no purpose, so I see no reason to indulge in such a practice."

Rolling her eyes, Naomi turned her gaze pointedly at the deadweight now hanging off of Icheb's arm. "He doesn't serve a purpose either, but you indulge in him."

Several people choked. Q flailed, taking a step back as Icheb straightened. Naomi smirked. Her gaze flickered between them. Q ducked his head to hide a blush, and a smile. Icheb blinked. Slowly.

The flush rising on his cheeks grew redder. A burning blush as the two boys avoided looking at one another. Naomi quirked her head, squinting at them.

She'd never seen Icheb's face so red before. He tried to hide it, even going so far as to duck his face against her hair when they hugged. Naomi arched a brow. His eyes widened. He shook his head.

A tiny, barely detectable shake. And then his gaze flicked towards Q. His lips pursing. Pupils dilating. Naomi even managed to beat him at kal-toh an hour later, thanks to Q hovering behind him.

Perhaps her father had it right. Icheb did have a different kind of friendship with Q. Very different.

Naomi could work with that.