Title: To Infinity and Beyond

Rating: T+

Pairing: Claire/Sylar, Claire/Spock

Word Count: 2,647

So, here I am ONCE AGAIN writing a new story. This is done in a kind of collaboration with smithsbabe65. Smithy, this one's for you! Thanks for everything. Also, the only Star Trek I am familiar with is the 2009 stuff. I was raised on Star Wars, so all you Trekkies, I apologize in advance if things seem kinda wacky...

Everyone enjoy!

Mission Mayhem

Claire stood at the entrance of the docking bay for starships, watching as hundreds of techs, pilots, engineers and various crew members of all races ran to and fro. She shifted self consciously, trying to get used to the stiffness of her academy suit. The short skirt barely reached mid thigh, though the black boots did add a good inch of height. Her sun kissed blonde hair was tied into a tight bun, giving her appearance an added look of maturity. The fashion of this century was definitely not a look she favored, but after spending hundreds of years learning to adapt, she'd found quickly to roll with the punches.

The star date was 8134, and space travel was no longer confined to a primitive space shuttle whose capacity for passengers and flight was embarrassingly small. Ships of every size and type could be found in this center alone, and many more came through here each week. Humans had quickly learned they were not the only ones in the universe, and as contact and treaties were made with alien life forms, new technology was introduced that allowed a much wider and longer exploration of the final frontier. The young woman was no longer fazed by this, though her curiosity and fascination with the depths of space had only grown with time.

Claire had decided to study in the medical area, using her knowledge of genetics to help her get a jump on the other recruits. It had not been long before she was picked up by James T. Kirk and settled into the position of Medical Officer Second Class under the charge of Doctor McCoy. She adjusted her med pack on her shoulder and headed down the ramp leading to a large white starship. It was sleek and new; the white of the paint glistened like a newly polished marble while its christened name, Enterprise, gleamed in the artificial light.

This particular ship had been through hell and back if one listened to its captain, but then Claire had never exactly believed anything coming out of the mouth of that smooth Iowa farm boy. She smiled at the thought of the blue eyed Casanova and pulled out her ID card. The med bay door slid open and Claire stepped through. On the outside, the ship was massive, but the inside seemed even bigger. The entire place was that same bright white, while every wall was covered with machinery and brightly flashing gadgets. People ran to and fro like busy bees, each doing their best to get the ship prepared for launch; as it was scheduled for flight by this evening.

The young woman walked down the long hallway, nodding to different crew members as they passed. She came to a port station and typed in her destination. She stepped inside the port and waited for that weird feeling of being disassembled and then put back together again that never failed to disorient her. When the disorientation subsided, the young woman found herself in the middle of a very busy medical bay. A man stood still in all of the chaos, barking orders and running an agitated hand through thick black hair. When he saw her, the agitation seemed to subside somewhat.

"Well good, Bennet! At least someone with a lick of common sense will be here on this mission."

Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy stood in the center of the medical bay, his familiar flask of whiskey in one hand and a telecommunication device in the other. The device was opened, and Claire could see a very sick looking Kirk on the screen, scratching at a VERY disgusting-looking rash. Bones was growling at him to stop with the itching.

"Now you listen here, Captain. I don't care how you got that rash, but I refuse to fly with someone whose skin could melt off because he's too damn stubborn to come down here and get treatment. You can't let Venusmengalocaucous have time to incubate on your skin. It's-"

"The treatment is simple, Kirk. One injection on the site will clear any lingering effects of the bacteria. Isn't that an STD, though?" Claire teased with a shark-like grin as she took the device from the harassed doctor. The haggard face of the captain sneered back.

"I'll never tell. So, why don't you come up here and… administer it? I promise to behave." Claire rolled her eyes and took the syringe that McCoy had already prepared.

"Be there in a few. Bones, is there anything else I need to do before I come back here?"

"Hmm. Could you tell Spock that I need to get a blood sample? He was bitten by a rabid Jabberwocky on his last trip, and I've been treating him for infection. If you don't see him, then don't worry about it." He took a swig of his alcohol. "I'm just ready to get outta here. Surrounded by incompetent…" Claire smiled and shook her head at his ranting. The good doctor just wasn't as patient as some. She grabbed an extra vile and syringe in case she ran into the commander and headed out.

Claire had seen Spock on several occasions, but she had never met him personally. The very first time she'd seen him, the Vulcan was having a heated argument with Kirk. At the time, she'd thought it was Sylar with a bad case of fashion disaster, but after listening to the stoic man and observing his mannerisms she realized that while the two could be brothers, they were definitely not the same. She knew Sylar had been recruited with Starfleet around the same time she had, but he'd excelled much faster than her and was off world before his second year as a cadet. Apparently his claims that they would have eternity together had not lasted because he hadn't darkened her door for over one hundred and fifty years. Not that she was complaining or anything. She sighed and didn't even see the man whose path she was rushing into until they collided.

Claire went sprawling with an undignified yelp. She looked up, ready to apologize when the slightly familiar features of the second-in-command stared back down at her. He didn't say anything; simply offered her a hand as she scrambled to get off the floor. She took the proffered assist, trying not to blush. Warmth spread at the contact of his skin on hers, and a prod at the back of her mind startled her. She felt him searching in her brain and then suddenly his presence was gone. He stared at her and she stammered out an apology.

"I'm so sorry, Commander! I wasn't watching and I-"

"It's quite alright. Perhaps next time you will not rush to where you are going?" Claire's cheeks burned at the chastisement.

"Yes, well… I don't really have the option of being slow, Commander." Claire didn't know where the words were coming from, but something about this man…

"Maybe not, but being careless is also not an option for you. You work for Doctor McCoy, if I am not mistaken. What is your name again?" She glared at him, insulted at his insinuation.

"I really have to get going, Sir." She turned to leave.

"I am not finished, Doctor."

"Doctor Bennet! You're needed on the bridge immediately!" Claire looked up to see Nyota Uhura rushing down the hall with a determined look on her face. "It's the captain; he's attempting to hide the fact that the rash is spreading. I really don't think he's in any condition to be held up." Claire mouthed a quick 'thank you' to the other woman as she darted past her. Uhura only smiled and subtly blocked Spock from pursuing the blonde.

"I see you are friends with that young woman, Uhura. That does not excuse her rudeness." Uhura rolled her eyes and laughed.

"You are just getting a little taste of your own medicine, Commander. She's not scared of you and your Vulcan broodiness."

"I do not brood, Nyota."

"Of course not, Commander. I need to be returning to the bridge before Kirk does something to make Claire kill him."

"Claire… that is her name?" Uhura smiled and nodded. She began to walk away when Spock looked at her shrewdly.

"One more question, Nyota. Who is Zachary Quinto, and what is a 'bowl cut'?" Uhura couldn't stop the peals of laughter at the Commander's chagrin. She explained both, and laughed even harder at the affronted look the Vulcan gave her. She sobered up quickly when his dark eyes looked off in the direction Claire had fled.

"Just so you know, she's already spoken for, and I would just leave her alone if I were you." Spock said nothing as he turned away. She was spoken for? Well, he certainly enjoyed a challenge.

Meanwhile, in the engine room….

Sylar sighed for the umpteenth time, waiting for Scotty to end his tirade. The Scotsman was absolutely furious that Sylar had made several minor adjustments to his work. Scotty had been on his own for so long that working with someone who had the same knowledge of all things mechanical was a hard pill to swallow.

"So I made a few adjustments! They needed to be done! The main valve was leaking in two places, one of the spark plugs for the back-up power block was out, and the launch sequence needed correcting as it's out of date. Besides, I'm a Lieutenant Commander same as you. We work together and I am not your subordinate!" Sylar's stubborn streak irked Scotty more often than not.

"You canna go around doing me work! An' I don't appreciate the attitude, neither!" The brogue had taken some getting used to, and the gruff exterior was hard to crack but Sylar actually found that he truly enjoyed working with Scotty. They fought like cats and dogs but both worked well during a crisis, which had happened more than once with Kirk as captain. Sylar huffed and jumped down from his perch, tossing a dirty rag at his companion.

"Then you fix the upper vent shaft. Also, the water main is cracked from when you threw that wrench at my head. It won't survive warp speed." A string of curses was his answer, and Sylar sneered in return. "I'm going to get a drink. You want something?"

"Bring me whiskey, an' be quick about it!" Sylar walked leisurely towards the port station, whistling softly to himself. He ported himself up to the third deck of the massive ship and headed to a small break room where Scotty liked to hide his whiskey. He had certainly enjoyed being in Starfleet, especially since it took him far from Earth.

The world had changed in six thousand years, and a change was exactly what he needed. Thoughts of Claire seeped into his subconscious, and he instinctively sought her out. She hadn't been assigned to the Enterprise by accident; a simple manipulation of several computers and high-up officials landed the ambitious cheerleader right under his nose, right where he could watch her in peace. He'd done his best to avoid her over the years, but he had never quite been able to leave her totally alone.

He'd watched as she changed with time and culture, and when she enrolled in the up and coming Starfleet, so had he. It had never occurred to him that he might actually excel in something like engineering, but before long he had sailed to the top of his class, and had earned the eye of several renowned captains.

However, it had been Captain James T. Kirk who had piqued Sylar's interest. He was a lot like Claire with his flair for dramatics and knack for getting into trouble. When the young man had asked him to join the crew as an engineer, Sylar had gladly taken him up on the offer. Since then, he had seen and experienced things that had only existed in movies and books. He'd seen worlds and aliens of many different types, and each had special abilities and qualities that made the Hunger howl with want.

He chuckled to himself. He was glad he had learned to control himself. Time had hardened him to his compulsion, and he was happy. For the first time in a very long time, Sylar Gray was happy.

However, that feeling was short lived when his connection to Claire was jarred and cut off for a few split seconds. He couldn't quite understand what was going on, but it dawned on him that someone else with telepathic abilities was literally hacking into his connection with Claire. It was disturbing and off-putting, and Sylar had no idea who could hold such power. However, the cold, condescending feeling could only be connected to one person: Commander Spock. Sylar growled angrily, sending a shield up to protect Claire from the invasive feel that the Vulcan was attempting. However, Sylar himself was violently pushed from her, sending a backlash of pain ricocheting through his skull. He leaned against a wall and cradled his head in his hands. He'd be damned if he allowed that pointy eared bastard to move in on the only thing Sylar truly wanted to keep for himself. He waited for the pain to subside before tentatively pushing back into Claire's mind. She was angry and worked up, but as far as he could tell, she wasn't injured, and her slight fear was gone.

He sighed and shook his head. He had whiskey to get to a pissy Scotsman, and he wasn't going to be subjected to another complaint session if he could avoid it. He had plenty of time to visit his Claire-Bear on the long voyage ahead, but he'd have to keep vigilant now. He knew Claire was a magnate for trouble, and Spock was definitely trouble.

Up on the Bridge…

"It doesn't hurt that much, you wuss!" Claire grabbed the captain's flailing arm and injected the serum. Uhura snickered from the background and McCoy groaned in exasperation over the intercom.

"I'm docking you for crappy bedside manner! The only way to earn back my trust and adoration is a very naughty kiss-" Kirk got a light slap on the injection site for his lecherous talk. He whined pitifully but allowed Claire to finish her check up.

"By the way, Claire, did you manage to get that blood sample from Spock?" Claire looked up at the video com and shook her head.

"He and I didn't really hit it off, and I forgot." McCoy nodded in understanding.

"Yes, well he is a right bastard. I guess you'd better head on back. We aren't even out of the docking bay and already we have a couple of patients…" He grumbled to himself and shut off his end of the connection. Kirk gave her a winning smile and sat up in his chair.

"Troubles with my commander?" Claire snorted.

"Of course not. I've gotta go, but if ANYTHING starts to hurt, itch, ooze or fall off, please call me." Kirk looked at her craftily for a few seconds.

"Well I do have a burning-"

"Do you really want to finish that?"

"…I suppose not."

"Then I need to be going. I shall see both of you later." When she was gone, Kirk turned his sexiest smile on Uhura, who only stared dolefully back.

"Do you by chance have her number?"

so... what do you think?