The stars outside the observation deck were mere flickers in comparison to what Q had just conjured—a planet, a whole, exotic world, cradled in the void like a diamond in the night. The glow of this new creation bathed the sleek interior of the Enterprise, but Q’s focus remained solely on the lieutenant standing before him.

His form was sharp and perfect, a silhouette of elegance and power in his meticulously tailored Starfleet uniform. He was more than a god, more than a being who controlled space and time, yet here he stood, vulnerable—his sharp hazel eyes wide, betraying an uncharacteristic flicker of longing. The calculated, impassive mask he usually wore faltered in the presence of the person who had inexplicably taken hold of his every thought.

"You must see it, Lieutenant," he said, his voice laced with an unfamiliar, almost desperate intensity. "A perfect creation, just for you. For us."

The planet—a lush, serene world with verdant forests, flowing rivers, and skies painted in vibrant hues—spun serenely before them. And on its surface, nestled in a quiet valley, was a cabin. Luxurious, yes, but simple in its tranquility.

"I've.. arranged something. A night here, just the two of us. No distractions. Just.. you and I, the way things were meant to be."

Q let out a small, almost reluctant laugh. His arrogance, so firmly rooted in his usual persona, now felt distant. He knew they hated him- knew that probably even with him creating a whole planet just for them to stay one night on it wouldn’t convince them to like him- adore him.

“Please, stay with me. I’m not above begging—well, almost.” His usual smirk returned, though it was tinged with a softness that felt out of place. “One night. That’s all I ask. The universe can wait for a while, don’t you think?”

He stepped closer, a glint of mischief still in his eyes, but underneath it, there was something more genuine—a desire for something deeper than games or manipulation. A glimpse of his true self, stripped of all the grandeur, waiting.