Why do *I* always get the blame?

[qcontinuum]

One of my sisters has taken up housekeeping with a mortal. Okay, in this case "house" refers to helping him build a sizable empire and protect it from the Borg, but same thing.

Why is this my fault?

Everyone says I'm a terrible example for her. What? I haven't taken up living with any mortals and pretending to be their consorts!

In the old days we wouldn't have allowed a stunt like this, but then, the freedom to shack up with a mortal is the kind of thing we fought a war for the right to do. So I'm not going to tell her no. That, however, does not make it my fault.

In other news, the party went well, although a certain android who shall remain nameless was determined to have a terrible time because he's totally infatuated with some annoying people I didn't invite. Now I'm kicking myself. Forget Robin Hood, I should have thrown a surprise party ages ago. I'll have to do this again sometime. Although I'll choose a date at random next time because otherwise it would hardly be much of a surprise.

Comments

Because it always is?

[qcontinuum.livejournal.com]

Everyone says I'm a terrible example for her. What? I haven't taken up living with any mortals and pretending to be their consorts!

Yet.

We've got a betting pool going. I've got three solar systems riding on "sometime within the next five years of their linear time."

Re: Because it always is?

[commanderdata.livejournal.com]

There are a lot of "betting pools going" as you put it. In the ship's "hangout" (as my friends put it) there are multiple wagers as to whether or not you and the captain will engage in shameless acts of intercourse!

That's not me, Data.

[qcontinuum.livejournal.com]

I know I said it's all much the same, but you know what? I was lying. That's not me talking about betting pools, that's my brother (WHO NEEDS TO GET HIS OWN DAMN JOURNAL!)

Inquiry, my android friend: how would any of the people on your ship, who are placing these wagers, know what me and your captain are doing? I mean, did they expect to see us running through meadows holding hands on camping holiday? Walking down the aisle together with organ music playing? (Although I have to admit the thought of Jean-Luc in a bridal gown and veil is absolutely hilarious. But no.) I mean, did they think Jean-Luc would ever tell them anything about who he's sleeping with, no matter who it was? How do they expect to collect on their wagers?

As for you, Q, I know about the betting pool. Q wouldn't let me in it because I'm biased, but I know what the odds are currently being assigned. You sure you wanna wager three whole solar systems? I mean, you did lose that asteroid belt and all.

Re: That's not me, Data.

[commanderdata.livejournal.com]

I am guessing that it is because they see the two of you interact, and form their own conclusions.

Do not be concerned, as you are not alone. Apparently there are similar rumours to the effect of the ship's engineer being somewhat infatuated with me in a romantic nature. This has primarily stemmed from the fact that is is very unlucky with the opposite gender.

*headtilts and looks all proud of himself because he knows all this stuff*

I *know* that.

[qcontinuum.livejournal.com]

The question isn't "why do they have a betting pool on me and Picard engaging in sordid, yet entertaining, non-reproductive but damn similar to reproductive activities." The question is "how the hell do they think they're going to *know* if and when we have, so that someone can collect?"

I mean, you can't have a bet going on the outcome of an event when you can't know the outcome. Or I don't know, maybe you can when you're a non-omniscient mortal. There are so *many* things you people don't know, perhaps you've developed a strategy for it. But I'm quite puzzled as to how you can bet on an outcome (or even worse, the amount of time it will take for an outcome to occur) when you can't actually know if or when it has happened.

Just so you know? Private lives stay private. A Q does not kiss and tell. If such an event were to occur, there would be no cosmic godly fireworks, no parades, no mariachi bands, and I would still annoy Riker and Crusher when I show up in public.

In other words, there's nothing to bet on. If and when such an event occurred, no one on the Enterprise would know unless *Picard* told them, and he's always been *sooo* forthcoming about his love life. So nobody's gonna collect.