#not quite sure how I've managed to avoid sonnet 55 on here for so long but the gross oversight has been rectified for your reading pleasure

[ask-q-and-picard]

Q: ... Jean-Luc. You know, of course, what day it is.

Picard: ... It would appear to be Tuesday, Q.

Q: Mm, mm... try again, darling. 

Picard: It’s, erm... 48734.39, which I believe is -

Q: New. Year’s. Eve.

Picard: Oh, at least we actually celebrate that one nowadays.

Q: And what do you tend to do for it?

Picard: Well, there’ll be a speech or three from myself and the good Commander - I do normally prepare something, though I’ve been rather waylaid recently by unforeseen circumstances -

Q: I can be foreseen, if you’d prefer it dear...

Picard: Oh good lord, hush. Still, I ought to be more than capable of summoning the relevant eloquence in the moment; we’ll engage in a synthohol toast to the continuing mission, naturally -

Q: Lovely, I’m sure, though it does involve a distinct lack of, ah... fireworks. I think we can rectify that, don’t you?

Picard: ... And what exactly are you prop - Q!

...

Q: Oh, nothing too grandiose, you know me!

Picard: Oh no, of course! Grandiose, you? Pah! Where the devil are we, man?

Q: Where on Earth, even - Paris! Away from the crowd, in case they steal the goods.

Picard: ‘Goods’? Is that a basket -

Q: The wine, darling, the croissants! No one shares my pastries, Captain, with a single notable exception. Do help yourself, there’s a good man.

Picard: Q, this is -

Q: Ineffable? Well, I’m not sure what you were expecting at this point, frankly.

Picard: - Charming, my dear. I was going to say ‘charming’, but unnecessary.

Q: You never think any indulgence is necessary, in my defence. Look, I’ll get you back in time for your infernal speeches, though it may be via some curious dimensional loophole. It’s midnight everywhere and nowhere at once, after all.

Picard: Q, I don’t mind how it long it takes.

Q: ... You don’t?

Picard: No. Well, assuming you’ll correct -

Q: Yes, obviously, and good - I might just have a little something else in mind for our first new year.

Picard: ... You are absurdly sentimental for an ages-old entity.

Q: You bring it out in me, darling. Ready for the fireworks? They’re about to count down, and I’d be a shame not to inform you of that classic new year’s tradition -

Picard: Oh, do you mean the kissing one? I quite agree, it would be a tragedy not to indulge that one...

Q: How on earth do you know - you are a consistent surprise, Jean-Luc. Was it the misspent youth?

Picard: Oh, almost certainly. Trois...

Q: Deux...

Picard: Un...

Q: ... Should have mulled the wine, really - mmph... but then, never mind...

Picard: Telepathic link? Cheap trick, though highly effective. Happy... whatever year this is, Q.

Q: You too, darling. Best you don’t know, trust me - just enjoy it. Allow me to fix that wine... a toast, then, albeit not under your precious bartender’s sinister gaze, and perhaps aloud?

Picard: To... France, some time in the future judging by the architecture, and to persistently stubborn gods who insist on taking me out of time.

Q: Oh, but you love me!

Picard: ... So help me, I truly do. 

Q: You see, that... 2657, Jean-Luc, to your mortal linearity at least. The year the Continuum’s civil war began. We don’t quite work on the same scheduling as mortals, of course, and... I needed a decent memory. Not necessarily today, but - and you appear to be kissing me again. Against a backdrop of fireworks. This isn’t at all cliché.

Picard: Are you complaining?

Q: Oh stars, no. Piling on the positive connotations, mon capitaine?

Picard: Doing my best to, yes.

Q: Oh, you always do. I can think of better locations, though...

...

Picard: Well, it’s a little more exotic than Paris, I’ll grant you that...

Q: A celebration on both our terms, dear. And the cusp of the correct year, too.

Picard: I... where are we? 

Q: Ah, and now that’s the question, isn’t it? I’m a god, Jean-Luc - immortal, of course, all-powerful, with more than enough gravitas to name as-yet undiscovered nebulas. Thought I might grant you the honour, darling.

Picard: ... You want me to christen this?

Q: Mm - though you might want to watch it explode first, get a feel for its totality. Ready for the real fireworks, Captain? Paris has nothing on this, I assure you.

Picard: ... I... you’re quite mad, Q! Deep space pyrotechnics, on New Year’s Eve.

Q: You’re welcome in advance, darling. Is that a yes?

Picard: Oh, always, mon dieu.

Q: Excellent - here we go!

...

Picard: I... I’m a diplomat. I’m not accustomed to running out of words, but...

Q: ... Never thought I’d see the day! I’m absurdly proud of myself, I’ll have you know.

Picard: You ought to be. You are astonishing, truly. I was going to make a speech, Q.

Q: Oh, you still are. Hopefully you’ve been a little more inspired, too?

Picard: I... completely, but - Q?

Q: Yeah?

Picard: Why do you want me to name this nebula?

Q: ... I take it you’re not going to accept ‘sentimentality’ as an answer?

Picard: You’re going to have to do a little better than that, I’m afraid. This is a grand responsibility for a human - this will, I take it, be known throughout the cosmos by the name I select?

Q: Oh yes. That’s the entire idea.

Picard: I... why, Q?

Q: ... You know, I wasn’t kidding about the sentimentality, Jean-Luc. You are the core of my universe; felt it best to make it official. After all, I imagine you’re familiar with this: ‘When wasteful war shall statues overturn and broils root out the work of masonry, nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn the living record of your memory.’

Picard: Sonnet 55. You... you wish to have a piece of me with you, out here.

Q: Would be quite nice, really... it’s very, very large, my dear, and so often empty.

Picard: You...  ‘’Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room even in the eyes of all posterity that wear this world out to the ending doom.’ 

Q: ... And everyone will know, yes, however indirectly, how very important you are.

Picard: ... Q?

Q: Jean-Luc?

Picard: I hereby christen this nebula 2383; Almond Croissant.

Q: You... you’re actually being serious. Have I ever told you how much I love you?

Picard: Mm, you may have mentioned it, though do feel free to elaborate. ‘It’s midnight everywhere and nowhere at once’, isn’t it?

Q: That it is, my darling... though we may have to revert back to the telepathic for a while...