Q is watching Jean-Luc Picard play chess with Beverly Crusher.  He doesn't feel like being observed, so he is not.

Another member of the Continuum flickers in beside him, observing his observations.  "I don't understand why you spend so much time watching this corner of the universe, Q."

Q waves at the chess board.  "Watch."  The man moves a rook and the woman smiles, pondering her next move.

"What a ridiculous waste of time," snorts Q's companion.  "They limit their motion on the board with arbitrary rules.  Why should this shape of piece only move in horizontal lines while another only moves in diagonal?  What is this way of passing time called, anyway?"

Q moves closer, eyeing the board and the faces of the players.  "It's called a 'game.'  Beings limit their options and abilities according to 'rules' in order to participate together."

"Well.  I think it's silly."

Q is watching Picard's face, the smile on it, the unguarded look in his eyes.  "I think it's...intriguing," he says, more to himself than to his compatriot.  He tilts his head, considering.  "Very intriguing indeed."

"You're an odd one, Q."

Q's smile is not quite as bright as it could possibly be.  "Oh, yes.  That I am."

Then he and his companion are gone.

The game continues without him.