Folie a Q

Two

Captain Hoying, Commander Maldonado, and Doctor Olusola cluster on the other side of the brig's force field the next morning, identical expressions on their faces that give nothing away.

Q stares at them all in horror. "Normal?" he croaks, "You call that, normal? It was the most unpleasant experience of my life! I felt my very existence slip away - pulled into a dark void filled with vivid and disturbing visions!"

"To sleep, perchance to dream," the doctor says calmly. "You'll get used to it." As if it's nothing.

"I'll get used--? How often does it happen?"

"As a human, you'll need about seven hours of sleep in every twenty-four hour cycle," the doctor replies in a maddeningly reasonable tone.

"Every day? You endure that every day? For seven hours?! How the hell your species ever made it to the stars is completely beyond me. How did you even find the time to master fire?"

Maldonado exchanges a look with Hoying. She raises her eyebrows. "I'll admit, if this is a ruse, he's going to some lengths to maintain it."

The doctor makes a non-committal noise and hands Hoying a data pad. "Every test I've run indicates that he's as human as you or I, although we all know meddling with medical diagnostics would be a trivial task for any Q."

"True," Maldonado shrugs, "but we're not scheduled to dock with a Federation starbase for a few months yet. If he really is human, I'd rather not confine him here without good reason. As annoying and disruptive as his previous antics have been, he's hasn't technically violated any Federation laws that I'm aware of. Except perhaps for unauthorized entry onto a Starfleet vessel, but as an alien representative, he'd probably be able to claim diplomatic immunity..."

"Not to sexual harassment," Hoying mutters under his breath.

Maldonado hesitates. "You'd have to put the shower thing on record."

Hoying shudders. "Nope. Diplomatic immunity, keep going."

"Right. Anyway, if he's telling the truth, we have no legal reason to keep him in the brig, and if he's lying and is still a Q... well, where we hold him won't make the slightest difference anyway."

Q raises his hands in frustrated agreement. At least one member of the crew has an IQ greater than the decorative foliage.

Hoying sighs. "Assign him quarters and post security to keep an eye on him."

Maldonado nods as the doctor gestures for his data pad. As Hoying hands it over, he points to the top of the screen with a frown. The doctor laughs. "I needed more than a single letter to create an entry in the medical records. I remember you mentioning this as a preference?"

Hoying grins broadly and looks up. "That I did. Welcome to the USS Fragaria, Mitch."

"That's not my name, Scott."

The grin doesn't diminish in the least. "It is now!"

***

"What is this?" Q asks, poking at the shredded...meat? He thinks it's meat...with a fork.

"Barbecue," Lieutenant Commander Kaplan says, wiping some sauce away from his mouth with a napkin. "Replicated, unfortunately, but still the best food on the ship. The coleslaw is real cabbage though. I grow them in hydroponics when there's room between experiments."

"You're eating a meal named after me? Should I be flattered or concerned about cannibalism?"

Kaplan pauses with his next forkful of vegetation only halfway to his mouth. "What?"