Gone With The Q


Disclaimer: I don’t own neither Star Trek nor Gone With the Wind, nor any of their affiliates. (WOW! Four negatives in one sentence!)


“We are currently responding to a distress call from an Andorian Transport vessel. We are now on our way there now, at high warp. Commander Data claims he is unable to locate any vessel on sensors, so I am very skeptical. My better judgment tells me it is nothing, but my gut tells me otherwise.”


Will sat in his chair on the Bridge. He tipped his head back in laughter, “Sounds great, Geordi!”

“Commander,” Data interrupted, “I am sorry to interrupt, but I am sensing an unknown object.”

Will stood, his expression changing dramatically. “Captain to the Bridge, on screen.”

As Captain Picard entered the Bridge there was a blinding flash of light and an extra figure on the Bridge. The figure was dressed in a Star Fleet captain’s uniform. “You called?” he asked cheerily.

“Q!” Will yelled, ready to lunge at the intruder.

“Q! What are you doing on my Bridge!” Captain Picard shouted angrily.

“Sending you on an adventure,” Q said with a snap of his fingers and a flash of light.

“Q!” Captain Picard yelled in anger. The world spun into reality, “Report!” he barked.

Data meant to answer, but his station was no longer in front of him.

Captain Picard looked himself over. He was dressed in a formal 19th century black suit. He looked at Will, Worf, Geordi, and Data, who were dressed similarly.

“Wow,” Will said, looking at Deanna and Beverly.

Beverly ran her hands down her tight bodice and settled them on her large hoop skirt, “Wow,” she breathed.

“I don’t think I can breathe,” Deanna gasped, putting her hands on her abdomen.

“I believe the correct phrase here would be ‘Hello, Good Looking!’” Data said.

Everyone looked at Data in surprise as there was another flash of light and Q appeared in a Confederate General’s uniform.

“Welcome to the Old South!” he said in a thick southern drawl that resembled Clark Gable. “It’s two years before the American Civil War. Currently you’re visiting your new neighbors-as you just moved here from Charleston-the O’Hara’s of the lively plantation ‘Tara’. While you’re here, you can go to parties, live on a large, plentiful, plantation . . .”

“Q, we don’t want to go to parties, and we don’t want to live on a plantation!” Captain Picard angrily lashed out.

“Captain, the plantation known as “Tara” never existed in reality. It was a creation of the author Margaret Mitchell,” Data said in his normal informal voice.

“Okay,” Q confessed in his normal accent. “Maybe this isn’t your reality, but it’s more fun this way.” Q smiled, snapped his fingers, and with a flash of light he disappeared.

“Sir, we should get out of the sun,” Geordi said. “I’ve read Gone With the Wind. The O’Hara’s will most likely accept us.”

“I can’t breathe,” Beverly gasped and started to loose her balance and began to collapse.

Worf grabbed her before she hit the ground. He held up the unconscious doctor with ease. “Sir, I believe we should take Doctor Crusher inside, immediately.”

“Follow my lead,” Captain Picard said to the others as he walked up to the large door and knocked.

A short, stocky, man came to the door. “Aye,” he said in thick Irish brogue. “What be ye business here at Tara?”

“Sir,” Captain Picard smiled, “I am Jean-Luc Picard. It seems my wife has fainted in the heat of the day. I hoped we could perhaps bring her inside until she recovers.”

“I be Gerald O’Hara. Come inside, I’ll get Mammy and me wife, she’s quite good with medical matters,” he short, husky, man stepped aside with an introductory arm gesture.

Jean-Luc smiled at his own inside joke, “So is mine.”

Worf laid Beverly down on the settee and stood behind her. Data stood behind Geordi, sitting in a delicate looking chair. Will and Deanna occupied another settee and Jean-Luc sat in the large cushioned chair.

“Sir, there’s something not right here,” Will said uneasily.

“Number One, that is an understatement.”

“No, Sir. Gerald didn’t notice any one of the oddities we have among us. A Klingon, a man with a metal sheet in front of his face, a man with skin the color of cotton, nor two black men. In this century they were slaves.”

A large black woman waddled in. “Ah, cen no white woman stay in de sun fer all de day,” she muttered to herself, along with other incoherent words and phrases, as she looked Beverly over.

Gerald walked in with his wife, a tall slender woman, and followed eagerly by three young girls. “Aye, this be my wife Ellen, and me lovely daughters Scarlett, Suellan, and Careen.”

“I am Jean-Luc Picard,” he introduced himself again. “This is my wife Beverly Crusher-Picard,” he said motioning to the unconscious doctor on the settee. “These are our sons,” he groped his mind for names, “Geordan, Dathan, and Worran,” he spit out motioning to Geordi, Data, and Worf. “And this is our lovely daughter Deanna, and her husband William.”

Ellen smiled with a prim and proper smile. “We are delighted to meet your family.”

Worf looked around and noticed the eldest girl, Scarlett, if he was correct on matching the daughter with the name. He frowned when she batted her eyelashes at him and smiled.

“Why, Mister Worran, are you going to the barbeque at Twelve Oaks tomorrow?” she asked in a fluttery southern drawl.

“Sir?” Word asked Jean-Luc, looking away from Scarlett.

“I do not believe Mister Wilkes is expecting our party,” Jean-Luc answered, looking at Gerald.

“Mister Worran, I would just love to eat barbeque with you,” she joyfully giggled.

“Now, Katie Scarlett,” Gerald gently scolded, “Don’t be worrying our guests just yet.” He turned to Jean-Luc. “John Wilkes will have you if you come with me. You should stay here tonight and we’ll all go to the barbeque on the morrow. Perhaps we’ll have a walk around the yard before supper?”

“I believe I will stay inside with my wife, but my sons will be pleased to accompany you.”

“Nonsense!” Gerald shouted gleefully. “She’ll be fine with Mammy. Come now!” he urged Jean-Luc to his feet.


“Where are you from?” Gerald asked, walking arm and arm with his wife, who was much taller than him.

Will walked arm-in-arm with Deanna, supporting her heavily. Scarlett had latched arms with Word and looked dreamily into his eyes. Data and Geordi walked behind Jean-Luc, and kept and eye on the faint-looking Deanna.

“We’re here from Charleston,” Jean-Luc answered looking around at the scenery.

“Why, Sir,” Ellen said gracefully. “You must know my family, the Robillards.”

“Why, yes,” he smiled falsely, trying to look sincere. “Delightful.”

“William, how do you fit into all this?” Ellen asked kindly.

Will thought up a lie and thought it up quick. “Deanna and I are looking for a nice place of our own here in the country. For now we’re staying with her father,” he smiled at Deanna and his own quick-thinking. Deanna struggled a look of acceptance back.

“Oh, how delightful!” Scarlett squealed, squeezing Worf’s arm. “Mister Worran, how wonderful to devote your life to supporting your little sister and her husband. How responsible!”

Worf sighed and rolled his eyes.


“Thank you for the nightcap, Mister O’Hara, I think I’ll turn in now,” Will put his glass down on the small tray, shook Gerald’s hand and made his way up to his and Deanna’s room.

On his way up the stairs, his thoughts dwelled on Jean-Luc, their predicament, and Deanna. He was slightly angry with Jean-Luc for being so forward in assuming to have him and Deanna play husband and wife. He was also glad that it was him, not Data, Geordi, or Worf.

It did please him that he would spend the night so close to Deanna.

Will walked into their room, locking the door behind him. He took off his jacket and looked over at Deanna, struggling with her corset, looking as if she was about to faint.

“Deanna, let me help you!” he rushed over to her, and she took another shallow, sharp breath.

He loosened the stays and she immediately slipped off the corset and took a deep breath. “I think I’m beginning to bruise,” she said, gently rubbing the sides of her abdomen, wincing.

Will gently put his own hands on her wait and gently messaged the sore muscles.

She silently enjoyed the sting pleasure that made it feel so much better.

After a few minutes, Deanna thanked him, not to imply anything. He removed his hands and loosened his collar as she turned to him. Will smiled at her and took off his shoes, and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. He laid down on the bed, putting his hands behind his head and stretching out his legs, relaxing.

Deanna looked at Will and saw his eyes close. She felt a little self conscious, but was very assured that it was Will in the room and not someone else.

She slipped off the final layer of the many she had been wearing and slipped on the nightgown that Ellen had lent her. Deanna slid into bed as far from Will as her exhausted body could handle. Deanna didn’t want to imply anything. She sensed that Will hadn’t anything of the kind on his mind.

There was a flash of light and Q appeared between them, wearing a red nightgown and large cap. “Well, aren’t you two adorable! Don’t you just love it here?”

“Q!” Will yelled, jumping out his the bed. “Q! What are you up to? Send us home!”

“Oh,” Q whined, “but you’ve only been here a short while. Don’t you want to go to the party tomorrow at Twelve Oaks? It’ll be fun!”

“We don’t want to have fun!” Will and Deanna yelled at the same time.

“We want to go back to the Enterprise,” Will said.

“Oh, come on,” Q whined. “You’re no fun at all. Why don’t you stay until after the party tomorrow, and if you still don’t like it, I’ll send you home.”

Will looked past Q to Deanna, who had been far too exhausted to get out of the bed. “What’s the catch?” he asked suspiciously.

“No catch,” Q replied with a shrug.

“If we want to leave tomorrow, you’ll send us home?”

“Yes, if you don’t like it, I’ll send you home.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You said if we don’t like it. I said if we want to go home.”

Q sighed. “Fine, fine, fine. If you still want to go home after tomorrow, I will send you back to the Enterprise.”

“Our Enterprise? NCC-1701-D? Our time? From when you took us? No tricks?”

“No tricks, Number One.” Q smiled.

Will looked at him suspiciously. “If it’s ‘no tricks’, then deal.”

“Fantastic!” Q grinned wide. He kissed Deanna on the cheek. “Wonderful! Until tomorrow. I have to decide what I’m going to wear!” Q snapped his fingers and disappeared in a flash of light.

Will slowly climbed back under the covers.

Deanna looked at him. “What are you doing?”

“What?” he asked innocently. “We’re married.” He saw the scowl on her face and the glare in her eyes, so he changed tactics. “It’s not like we’ve never done this before,” he said sweetly.

Her glare softened. “Alright,” she sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

Will smiled and rolled over. “Good night, Deanna.”

She looked at him a moment longer, before finding a comfortable position. “Good night, Imzadi,” she thought to herself.


“Jean-Luc,” Beverly said from the large four-post bed as he walked in. “We need to get out of here. Deanna and I shouldn’t wear these corsets much longer.”

“I understand, Beverly,” Jean-Luc sighed taking off his jacket.

“No, I don’t think you do. Corsets actually rearranged women’s ribs by breaking them. Corsets are dangerous things.”

Q appeared next to Beverly with a flash, in the same red nightgown and cap. “Dangerous? Ha!”

“Q!” Jean-Luc and Beverly yelled.

“Breaking ribs!” Beverly shouted. “How is that not dangerous!”

“You won’t be wearing them long enough for that to happen.”

“What do you mean?” Jean-Luc asked suspiciously.

“If after the party tomorrow, you don’t like it, I’ll send you home,” Q smiled, adjusting the blankets.

“If we want to go home tomorrow, you’ll send us?” Jean-Luc asked suspiciously.

“That’s right. If you don’t like it, you’ll go home.”

“Wait,” Jean-Luc held up his hand. “I said if we want to go home. You said if we don’t like it,” Jean-Luc pointed at Q accusingly.

“Fine,” Q sighed in final defeat. “You know, that’s exactly what Riker said. If you want to go home after the party tomorrow, I’ll send you.”

“No tricks?” Beverly asked.

Q looked at her. “You humans are so paranoid,” he stated unbelievingly. “Yes, no tricks.”

“Alright,” Jean-Luc agreed.

“Great!” Q shouted, kissing Beverly on the cheek. “Until tomorrow, Captain.” With a snap and a flash, Q disappeared.

Jean-Luc stared out the window in thought for a moment and felt Beverly’s eyes on him. He said nothing as he sat in the chair in the corner and stretched his legs as far as they would go and he closed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Beverly asked from the large bed, suddenly feeling very small.

“Beddin’ down fer de night,” he said in a thick, false accent.

She patted the spot next to her. “I don’t mind,” she smiled warmly at him.

He stood cautiously and slid into the bed next to her. His thoughts suddenly fled to Jack; he felt a little slimy. Actually, he felt very slimy. Jack was one of his best friends and now he was sleeping next to that dead best friend’s wife. Jean-Luc suddenly felt very dirty.

Jean-Luc looked at Beverly and she seemed calm and comfortable. He wondered if it comforted her to have a man on the other side of the bed.

Jean-Luc apologized to Jack so many times in his head before he was far too exhausted to repent any longer.


Data sat in a chair and watched Geordi struggle for comfort on the small settee. “Geordi, is something wrong?”

Geordi flipped over again. “Yes, Data, I can’t get comfortable.”

“Comfort? Why do you need to be comfortable?”

“Because,” he sighed, “I have to be comfortable in order to sleep well.”

“Why don’t you sleep on the floor, like Worf?”

Geordi thought about Worf lying on the floor, sleeping, but more alert than a cat. “I can’t sleep on hard surfaces,” he sighed.

“Why?” Data asked.

Geordi sighed in annoyance. “Good night, Data.”

Data shrugged. “Good night, Geordi.”


“How’s that?” Will asked Deanna, pulling the stays of her corset the following morning.

“A little tighter, just a little tighter,” she gasped as she braced herself against the bed post.

Will pulled the stays and tied them as best he could. “Alright?”

“Feels about the same,” she gasped. “You owe me big,” she said as she held her abdomen.

“I know,” he sighed.


“Beverly, sit down,” Jean-Luc said, getting annoyed.

“Jean-Luc, I’m fine,” she smiled.

“You just said . . .” he looked confused. She had just told him that she and Deanna should take it easy and try to stay off their feet.

She waved him off. “I know what I just said . . .”


“Oh, Mister Worran,” Scarlett called, coming down the steps. “Will you accompany me to the carriage?”

Word sighed angrily.

Scarlett rushed up to him and latched their arms. Scarlett’s sisters followed them out to the carriage, giggling to one another, and Geordi and Data smiled at each other before joining them.


Geordi looked around as they approached the plantation Twelve Oaks. He was in awe of the simplicity.

As they approached the large house, the carriage stopped in front of the steps. Will jumped down first and gently lifted Deanna to the ground.

“Mother?” he said with a smile; feeling a bit like Weasley, calling Beverly ‘Mother’.

She smiled at him as he lifted her to the ground as well. Will offered to Scarlett, but she refused to be touched by anyone but Worf.


Data, Worf, and Geordi stood in the yard looking around. Word was glaring into the distance, brooding.

“Worf, lighten up!” Geordi clapped him on the back.

“Look at her,” he growled.

Data and Geordi adjusted their view to see Scarlett sitting under a tree, surrounded by most of the young men at the party, giggling.

Geordi laughed. “Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“Klingons do not get ‘jealous’. We compete for female, if necessary.” He stormed towards Scarlett.

Geordi saw the Klingon rage in his eyes. He grabbed him and pushed him back. “Worf,” he said a little too loud. “Worf, Worf. WORF!”

Worf looked at Geordi menacingly.

“Here, people didn’t fight for affection; they competed by giving her attention and doing things for her. You can’t beat up those boys.”

Worf looked around. He thought hard for a moment. “I will . . . try it your way.” He stomped unhappily towards Scarlett, fixing his suit.

Geordi laughed again.


“Mister Wilkes,” Jean-Luc said shaking the man’s land. “Thank you for accepting my family on such sort notice.”

“Any friend of Gerald O’Hara’s is a friend of mine,” John Wilkes replied with a smile.

“Come now, Jean-Luc, we must be getting back to Tara, so you can be off,” Gerald said, grabbing Jean-Luc firmly on the arm.

“I think I’ll be the judge of that!” Q appeared with a flash and he stood triumphantly with his finger pointed firmly at Gerald.

The world around them froze and the crew looked around. Gerald stood mid-laugh, and John stood with a frozen smile. The horses stood frozen, one in the middle of a twitch. The driver of the coach was mid-jump up to the cab. Scarlett sat staring up at Worf with a girlish smile, having been won back, clutching his arm. Even the wind was frozen and the Twelve Oaks stood eerily quiet.

“And now the Moment of Truth,” Q smiled. “What’s the decision?” He swept his arms around dramatically. “This place?” he said with a great smile, “or the Enterprise?” he said drably.

Jean-Luc and Will looked at each other.

“We want to go home,” they said in unison.

Q seemed genuinely shocked. “Let’s go by individual,” he suggested as a final hope to stay. “Geordi, you’ve never seen scenery like this.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, “and I never will. Take me home.”

Q frowned at another lose. “Data, the wonder of the human race before machinery.”

“Although I have enjoyed the experience. I do not belong here. I belong in the 24th century.”

Q fumed. “Beverly . . .”

“Wear this corset?” she forced a laugh, which would have been more convincing if she could draw a proper breath; but it proved her point well enough.

“Number One? Deanna?”

They looked at one another, shaking their heads, “No.”

“Worf? Q asked, trying for at least one vote on his side. “Would you leave Scarlett?”

Worf looked at the young girl’s green eyes. She seemed blissful. Worf thought for a moment. “She is a devious woman, but there are two parts to being a warrior. She is too frail. She could never understand who or what I am. Send us home.”

Q threw his hands up in defeat. “I guess that’s everyone!” Twelve Oaks faded dark, then into the Bridge of the Enterprise. “Go save your little ship.” Q disappeared with an unhappy face and an angry snap.

Doctor Crusher sat down immediately, taking a series of deep breaths.

Riker looked around suspiciously, “That was too easy.”

Captain Picard sat in his chair, “Nothing is ever easy. Mister Hawk, continue course.”