Disclaimer – I do not own Star Trek. This story is inspired by Rambo.

Chapter One – Chance Meeting

He noticed her across the mess, taking fresh produce into the kitchen. McCoy, noticing his friend had paused with a fork full of food an inch from his mouth exhaled loudly and put his own utensil down.

"No Jim."

"What? You don't even know what I'm looking at." Kirk tried to look shocked.

"Yes I do and I repeat, no Jim." McCoy continued to eat.

"Who do we have on board who isn't Starfleet?" Jim asked..

"I'm not being a party to this." The Doctor began to clean up his lunch before him from the table.

"There's sanitation, who else?" The Captain continued, seemingly oblivious.

"Good bye Jim."

"Hydroponics! They're not Starfleet, makes sense." Kirk began to follow the Doctor through the busy mess hall, unaware of the stares he was receiving from the young Ensigns. It was unusual to see the Captain dining with the other officers.

"My God man! You're impossible!"

"You wouldn't have me any other way." Kirk smirked.

"Wouldn't I?" McCoy growled. He continued to make his way to the exit, assuming Kirk was behind him he began discussing what was on the agenda for the day, when realising he couldn't hear the Captain's footsteps behind him he stopped and turned. Kirk was speaking with one of the kitchen staff. "Unbelievable." Turning on his heel he made his way back, stopping just short of his friend. Catching the back end of the conversation that was taking place he realised, as he suspected that Jim was questioning the kitchen staff member on whom the hydroponics contractor was. This he knew was for one reason only, they must be of the female persuasion.

"Jim." He almost barked.

"Just a minute Bones."

"Captain, we have a meeting in 5 minutes." Placing the emphasis on the word 'Captain', the Doctor persisted. He wasn't sure why he was bothering, Jim was like a Cat with a ball of string when it came to this stuff.

"I might be late, Captain's prerogative." He threw him a sideways glance. As McCoy was about to leave the very source of all this commotion came out of the kitchen. Her head down, arms laden with empty crates, McCoy understood instantly why the woman had caught the Captain's attention, to his surprise however, the contractor gave the Captain a professional nod and continued on her way. Now this wasn't the usual reaction he'd come to expect from women meeting James Kirk, but he had to laugh. This small gesture had seemingly stumped his friend.

"I guess you're off your game Jim." The Doctor couldn't keep the amusement from his voice.

"She was busy, probably had to be somewhere." Kirk mused.

"Yeah, probably."

Fallon Wright was running late, she had already sowed a new crop of corn in cargo bay six and was now on her way back from the mess hall after dropping off the potatoes she had dug up this morning with Chef. The team was down a few members of staff after Commander Spock had brought back a new species of plant from the away mission earlier that week that, until two days ago they had been unaware of its hallucinogenic qualities. This meant a number of staff were held up in quarantine in the med bay until the effects wore off. After working through her list of jobs for the morning she sat at her small desk in the back of cargo bay seven.

Hydroponics spread over four cargo bays, down several layers of the saucer section of the U.S.S Enterprise. Unless you worked down there you were unlikely to see any officers bar a few engineers every now and again. This suited Fallon, she preferred working alone or at the very least with as little interaction with others as possible. She was happiest with her plants and veg, preferring their company. They didn't answer back. Fallon had found herself on the Star ship after her Mentor at the International Botanical Congress put her name forward as a specialist contractor to the Federation. A horticulturist by profession, specialising in phytology and multicellular xenological organisms she provided a service not readily found within Starfleet, especially after the Armada it found itself a part of four years ago.

Fallon was a land lover, it had taken her a number of months to become accustomed to the replicated gravity and atmospheric surroundings of a Star ship. So much so that she had purposely grown a small patch of lawn in the back of one of cargo bays, just large enough for her to remove her boots and socks when she was off shift, she would lay down on it on occasion when she was missing home the most. Throwing her apple core in the refuse she stood and stretched. Yes there was machinery that helped with the heavy work, but there was nothing like getting your hands dirty. When Fallon had come aboard she had requested from the Quartermaster some unusual equipment, namely 21st Century spade and shovel. The Andorian had looked at her strangely but, after some research assured her that he would be able to acquire the equipment. So, after removing her light brown jacket, Fallon got to work digging up the root vegetables that had been maturing in the rapid growth simulator. Turnips first, Pumpkin, Vulcan Radishes (Fallon knew they weren't Radishes but that's the closest thing they resembled). Coming across a rather entrenched arrowroot Fallon pushed hard around the solid soil, her hand slipping she instantly felt a sharp pain on the palm of her hand. Clutching it to her thigh as she got up onto her feet she let out a few expletives under her breath. Hissing loudly, she momentarily wondered if she even wanted to look at the injury. Stealing herself for what she was about she see, she looked at her left palm, the gash was long and bleeding profusely. She grabbed her discarded jacket and held it against the gash, going to the small first aid box she kept in her desk she realised quickly enough that no amount of plasters or bandages was going to cut it. As much as she hated to admit it, a trip to the med bay was in order. She managed to evade any such visit previously but there was always a first for everything. Having to review the ship's schematics on her PADD to find out where the closest med bay was (there was the main one and a number of smaller versions sporadically spread across the ship) she left the cargo bay, her hand wrapped in an insufficient bandage. After a long walk down the many corridors and a few turbo lift rides she came to subsidiary med bay 3, on spotting a very pleasant looking nurse she gave the woman a look of 'Yes I know, I'm sorry to be a bother' look.

"What do we have here?" The Bajoran asked.

"My hand slipped." Fallon answered apologetically. The nurse led her over to one of the beds and told her to hop up. Doing as she instructed, Fallon watched for a moment the nurses and doctors going about their business. Everybody seemed to be busy, attending to patients, restocking shelves etc. The nurse then returned with a number of items on a tray which she sat down.

"Let's get this cleaned up and you can be on your way." The nurse stated warmly.

"Thank you." Fallon was feeling light headed, closing her eyes she concentrated on her breathing, slowing it down, inhaling through her mouth and exhaling through her nose.

"Are we okay?" The woman asked? A tinge of concern lacing the question.

"Yes, I just don't do well with blood, anybody else's and I'm fine, my own, not really." Fallon tried to smile but seeing spots forming in her peripheral vision she knew what was about to happen.

"If you don't mind nurse, I think I may lie down." Fallon twisted her body round and lifted her legs onto the bed, slowly lowering her torso and head. Careful not to move her hand away from the nurse's she again closed her eyes.

"Would you like something for the dizziness?"

"No, I'll be fine in a minute." The nurse continued to clean up the wound and then picking up a dermal regenerator sealed the gash closed until all that was left was a pink line.

"Well, that'll do it." The nurse gave her a smile and then walked away. Swinging her legs back over the side of the bed Fallon gingerly placed her weight on her feet. Walking to the nurse's station she thanked the Bajoran and made her way to the exit. As the doors slid open she was almost knocked over by somebody coming the other way.

"Watch where you're going!" McCoy barked, taking a wide birth around Fallon and continuing on his way. Fallon took a step back, still slightly shocked at the rudeness of the altercation. Usually, Fallon would have dismissed the situation, not being one for making a scene but as her head and hand were still throbbing she paused in the door way.

"My apologies Doctor, obviously I was wrong in thinking this door worked as both entry and exit to the med bay." Seeing the fleeting moment of shock register on the Doctor's face was enough for Fallon, she turned and continued on her way not waiting for any further response. "Rude!" Was the only word she muttered as she entered the turbo lift.

Doctor McCoy knew instantly that he had been in the wrong, but damn it if he didn't have to visit every one of the med bays nearly every week to tow all the nurses back in line. Nurse Chapel did a sterling job but there were times when a good old putting the fear of God in them wasn't needed. He shouldn't have made the comment to the woman leaving the med bay as he was coming in, he certainly realised he shouldn't have made the comment when she called him on it and left before he could respond. It was only moments after as he was checking the stock cupboard that he relished he had recognised her. She was the contractor from the mess hall Jim had spotted a few days ago. A part of him was intrigued as to why she had made the visit, after reviewing the case files for that day he had come across hers. Dr Wright had transferred to the ship when they had gone in to space dock before heading out on their five year mission. Reading her professional bio McCoy couldn't help notice the small profile picture to the right, she was quite stunning, large blue eyes the colour of the ocean staring back at him. But the 'all business' look in her eyes and the 'all business' brunette hair wrapped tightly on the top of her head told him everything he needed to know. "You're fighting a losing battle Jim." He muttered to himself.

"Well?" Kirk looked at his friend expectantly.

"Well what?" McCoy wasn't in the mood for games. They had been tracking a gaseous life form for the past 82 hours and in all that time Jim Kirk had insisted his CMO be present on the bridge. Nothing had happened of course, only for that damned Vulcan to get on his nerves even more than before, how that was even possible he didn't understand.

"Captain Kirk, it is illogical to assume the life form bids us no ill intent. Given our previous first contacts it would be wise to assume the opposite." The Vulcan inclined his head slightly, if Bones knew it not to be true he could of swore there was a tinge of sarcasm in the Vulcan's tone.

"Ah, Spock! You've got to live life a little dangerously every now and again." The Captain gave the young Ensign at one of the research stations his thousand watt smile.

"Jim, I've got work to do." Bones had had enough; giving the Captain a nod he left the bridge.

Coffee was in order; he would write himself a prescription for the stuff if he had to. Walking to the mess hall he went straight to the refreshment station. He would usually just go back to his quarters when he was off shift but the Chef had recently acquired some Klingon Raktajino and the idea of a fresh pot was the only thing keeping Bones standing upright. Grabbing a cup and sitting himself down he began looking at his PADD, signing off the recent round of health checks. After half an hour, McCoy was pinching the bridge of his nose, downing the last of the liquid he winced slightly at the bitter aftertaste that comes with gulping down the sediment at the bottom of his cup. Rising out of his chair he made his way to the serving station, Chef was stood stirring an unimaginably large pot of something, it smelled good and it reminded McCoy that he hadn't eaten in a while.

"Can I interest you in my famous Plomeek soup Doctor?" The Chef looked at him earnestly.

"Plomeek? No thank you Chef, I've had enough Vulcan…anything for today." The Doctor gave him a wry sneer, the closest he got to being pleasant.

"You should try it, I got a fresh batch of Plomeek plant from the hydroponics bay this morning and Dr Wright assured me that they're not as bland as the native Vulcan variety, more to your human taste I think you will find." At the mention of Dr Wright McCoy couldn't help but think back to his outburst, grabbing an apple from the basket in front of him he tossed it in the air and caught it with his right hand.

"I'm sure, but no thank you. I'm a Georgian; we're used to Brunswick Stew, Boils and Biscuits.

Let me know when you have those on the menu." With that McCoy took his leave, there was a bottle of Romulan Ale in his quarters he'd relieved last month's Ambassadorial visit of and it had his name on it.

Fallon came out of the kitchen a sidled up to Chef, smelling the vegetable broth her stomach rumbled.

"Somebody's hungry."

"Starving, but I need to get a move on. I have to run tests on the samples the away team brought back from Ceti VII." Chef pulled one of the takeaway meal bowls from the shelf behind him and filled it with the Vulcan stock; passing it to the Botanist he smiled.

"For the road."

"Thanks Chef." She walked out of the mess towards the turbo lift, seeing the door closing she shouted for whoever was inside to hold the door. Making a few hurried skips she squeezed through the door before it closed completely, being careful not to spill her soup.

"Thank you." She politely smiled at her turbo lift companion. The Gentleman beside her was much taller than herself, the top of her head coming in just below his shoulders. She craned her neck to look up at him, realising quite suddenly that it was the incredibly rude Doctor she had briefly met some time ago. The realisation of that fact must have been apparent on her face because the look he returned to her was firstly embarrassment and then a kind of indignation. This was enough to put Fallon on edge and she instinctively took a small step away.

"That smells good." McCoy rumbled out.

"It is." Fallon wasn't sure what the man was trying to accomplish, small talk? Was this his way of apologising? It was all very strange really. McCoy gave a small nod as a way of response.

"I'm Doctor McCoy, Leonard McCoy. I'm the ship's CMO."

"Doctor Wright, the ship's Horticulturist." Fallon straightened her spine, turning herself so she was looking at him directly.

"You were in med bay 3 weren't you?"

"I was."

"A cut on the hand as I seem to recall, don't you have machinery to do that type of thing?" Fallon might have been mistaken but he seemed genuinely interested in his line of questioning.

"I'm a Gardner, not an Engineer. There are times when a bit of elbow grease is all that's needed Doctor. Plus, there's nothing like the feel of dirt under your finger nails and the satisfaction of knowing that you've done a hard day's work." This seemed to be a satisfactory response, as the CMO gave her an approving nod. As he was about to speak again the turbo lift stopped and the doors opened.

"Bones!" Kirk held his arms outstretched as if seeing a long lost relative for the first time.

"Jim." Bones sidestepped the Captain and continued down the hall. Fallon, not being at her level stayed put. The Captain, on noticing who was occupying the small cylindrical lift gave his best smile.

"It's Miss Wright isn't it?" he enquired.

"Doctor Wright, Captain." She tagged the rank on with a slight delay, remembering that although she didn't work directly for Starfleet, she was still under commission of the organisation.

"Doctor Wright, of course. You head up our hydroponics bays do you not? How are our plants doing?" Kirk tried in vain to appear interested.

"Very well thank you, the carnivorous plants are providing some anxiety to the team but nothing we can't handle." Fallon chose to ignore the fact the Captain was leaning in a little too close for comfort.

"Good, good, glad to see all is in working order. We might have some more samples for you soon. Commander Spock has shown interest in a Class M planet not too far from here, I feel an away mission is in order. I'm getting cabin fever you know."

"An understandable by-product of living on a floating tin can." As soon as she said it she knew the Captain had taken offence to her comment. "I mean, what I meant to say was being away from land can be difficult for some. In no way did I infer any kind of inferiority or transgression to the Enterprise." She exhaled quickly; this is why she liked talking to the plants more than people. Not as many opportunities to give offence. Her act of contrition seemed to work, as the Captain became all sweetness and light again.

"Well, as Captain I might find a way of including you on the away mission, we wouldn't want you stuck on this 'tin can' for too long." With that the Captain disembarked with a mock salute.

"Oh no, Captain, please, that's not what I meant. I'm not Starfleet, I don't think protocol even allows me to be a part of an away mission…" by this point Fallon was virtually shouting down the long corridor after the Captain.

Fallon sat in her quarters crossed legged on the small seat near the window. She had spent the last hour sifting through Starfleet's modus operandi trying to find anything related to contractors being party to Starfleet operations. Throwing the PADD down next to her she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had been made aware of the at times reckless antics of the Captain by the crewmembers who worked in the hydroponic bays but now she understood fully his predilection of pranks. That's what this was, a prank Fallon was sure. As she brushed her teeth her comm lit up, indicating a message had been received. Picking up the communicator she read the message that had been sent from Lieutenant Uhura. It was an instruction to go to the senior officers team brief in the morning for the debrief on the forthcoming away mission. "You've got to be joking?"