Unbearable
Summary: When desperate strangers abduct Sofia from a crime scene, things get hairy. Very, very hairy. Crossover. Takes place in early Season 8 and far beyond.
A/N: Life lesson #287 – Never dare VR Trakowski, 'cause she'll take you up on it. Sigh. This is in exchange for her story, "Of Doctors and Detectives" – her dream of this 'ship inspired both stories. Really, I bear no responsibility for this. Thanks to Marlou and Cincoflex for agreeing to read this brute.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Can I still blame this on the concussion I received two weeks ago?

"Hey, stranger," Detective Sofia Curtis called out as the inhabitants of the Denali joined her behind the relative safety of a large trash dumpster. Her investigation into the murder of a reported drug baron had led her to a nearby building believed to be his combination warehouse and factory.

Sara Sidle answered with a smirk, her arm still encased in a heavy cast. The younger woman with her returned the greeting enthusiastically and started peppering Sofia with questions about the high-profile case.

"Down, Ronnie," Sara finally responded with an exasperated eye roll in Sofia's direction.

She smiled, remembering her share of rookies over the years, and then quickly filled them in on the details of the case. Once the officers rushed the building, it didn't take long for a few scattered shots to be fired, or for people to try to escape from windows, only to be caught by officers waiting outside. Smoke briefly came out of one bank of windows. Finally another detective opened the rear door and waved them in.

"We are so going to need backup," Sara said, staring at the vast quantities of bagged drugs, cash, chemicals and file cabinets filled with partially burnt records.

"That's an understatement," Sofia replied with a good-natured grin, calling dispatch to request additional CSIs. She carefully paced the area as they started photographing the evidence, prompting Sara to tease her.

"No one's ever been able to pin anything on this guy," she responded. "The Reno police raided one of his buildings a few months ago, and they found nothing. Turns out there were tunnels running out of the basement that no one knew about."

The two CSIs nodded and returned to work, taking extra care to look for signs of hidden exits. Sofia kept them in sight, feeling especially careful toward Sara since her ordeal with a deranged serial killer.

As she walked back and forth around an office door, something began to nag her. Trusting her instincts, she paced out the width of the room and then went outside. She had her gun pulled before calling for backup.

"Get out," she said in a loud whisper when Sara and Ronnie started approaching to see what she was doing. "The inside dimensions of this room don't match the outside."

She'd barely finished when a shot rang out, and she grunted in pain. Diving behind a box, she saw the long streak of blood on her right forearm. The bullet had only grazed her, but it was going to leave a scar. More importantly, she was having trouble holding her gun steady.

Peering over the top of the box, she saw the group of men rushing out of the hollow space between the walls, intent on shooting their way out of the building. She aimed at the closest one, but her shot went wide. The group turned in her direction, and their barrage of bullets tore into the tall stack of boxes behind her.

Sofia crawled to the side quickly, knowing she didn't stand a chance if the geniuses out there ever figured out she was ducked behind cardboard. As she rounded the corner, her boot snagged on the edge of the stacked boxes, and she only had time to swear before they collapsed on her.

Pain, a sense of dizziness and swirls of multi-colored lights tugging at her toes followed, and she gradually became aware of figures hovering just out of sight, speaking in soft growls.

Growls?

Just how hard did I hit my head?

Forcing her eyes open, she expected to find herself in a hospital room. While there was a sense of antiseptic cleanliness to the room, it was vast and somehow … off. For one thing, the bed was larger than any she'd ever seen before. She tried to sit up, but a gloved hand rested lightly on her left arm. Her right arm ached vaguely, and she saw the thick bandages covering it.

"Stay still, dear," the voice growled. "You hurt your head."

Sofia blinked in confusion. She understood what was said to her, but it sounded almost like an echo to the original growl. "My hearing's all screwed up."

"It is fine, dear. Just rest. You have had a tiring ordeal."

"Something is wrong with my hearing," she insisted, trying to swing off the bed. The hand barely touching her arm kept her firmly pinned down. The nurse – since when did nurses wear outfits over their entire bodies? - easily moved her back into bed, and she didn't resist since her movements had set off a fresh wave of vertigo.

"Now, now, honey. You rest. Everything will be explained … in time."

The nurse – if it was a nurse – left her alone, and Sofia tried to get some sense of where she was. The footsteps clomped for a long time before there was a swooshing sound apparently from the door. The room was cavernous. Her attendant was in a full-body suit, and there had been a rather large projection where the face should be. Probably some sort of air mask. Why am I in quarantine? That bastard wasn't making anthrax, was he? No, the nurse wouldn't need a suit for that. Maybe one of the guys there had TB or something. I don't know. My head hurts…

When she awoke again, it was to the sounds of soft voices. Again, she'd swear a growling noise came before the voices. Gingerly, she lifted her upper body off the massive bed, and scanned the dark room to find the source of the sound.

"Where am I?" she asked, politely but firmly.

"We did not intend to disturb your rest cycle. You are a guest of the main medical center of Urrsmagrr," said the largest of the three figures who approached.

"Where is that?" she asked, trying to recall any towns by that name. It sounded vaguely Native American, but she still didn't trust her hearing. The R's definitely sounded like they were growled rather than spoken.

"Not near your home," replied the medium-sized figure.

"It was necessary to bring you here for the treatment," said the smallest figure. Small being figurative – this attendant was well over six feet tall.

"Why?"

The three figures looked at one another and shrugged, whispering to each other. Swinging her legs off the table, she stared at her clothing – it was a generic gray bodysuit, nothing like she'd ever seen in a hospital before.

"Is this some sort of government facility?" Sofia asked, her confusion growing as she realized she couldn't see the walls in the room. What type of facility used rooms so cavernous, with the medical staff completely enrobed?

"In a sense," the largest figure answered uncomfortably. "Please return to bed. You must rest."

"Look, you seem nice, but I'd really appreciate some straight answers. Right now," she stated in her best detective voice.

"I am afraid that is a problem. It is very complicated," said the smallest figure.

Sofia watched them carefully, but trying to get a sense of their body language was impossible with their outfits. They didn't even seem to have normal body proportions.

"If you don't want to give me answers, fine. I'll get them on my own," she said, getting off the table. Heading in the direction of where she thought the door was, she blinked in surprise when the three figures were suddenly in front of her.

My vision is shot, too. I swore they were on all fours.

"Please understand it was necessary to bring you here," implored the largest figure. His passion sounded sincere, but Sofia didn't trust her hearing. His voice carried a very unnatural timbre. "We shall explain all to you."

"But the shock…" the smallest attendant said.

"We must be honest. We have cost her too much," the mid-sized figure replied solemnly. "We cannot send her home."

Before she could demand clarification on that, the tallest figure removed its head gear. Sofia slowly cocked her own head as she stared at what appeared to be a black, nearly seven-foot tall bear. With glasses.

Oh, I really hit my head.

"So, did I eat the forbidden porridge?" she asked lightly; after all, there was no reason why she shouldn't enjoy her hallucination. "Or is it my golden locks?"

The tall bear rubbed his snout in what seemed to be a perplexed manner. "We are the B'rruin. A plague has overtaken our world," he said, pausing to push his glasses up with a paw.

"Our scientists realized six of your years ago that human DNA showed promise to finding a cure," said the smallest bear, who had no glasses, but was nearly bald around her roan snout. She kept ducking her head in shame.

"Since then, we have been scanning Earrrth for a compatible source to find the cure," continued the medium bear, whose fur was deeply grizzled.

"So Space Bears have been roaming the Earth. You must have landed in Area 51," Sofia said sagely. "Or did you come from Jellystone?"

"Errrr, no," said the medium bear. "We landed at Space Port Gamma. Our scientists were scanning tourists at a museum when they found the DNA sequence which met our needs."

"The only trouble was it did not belong to any of the guests. It was on one of the artifacts," said the female bear. "It was your DNA on a vest on display."

"And why was there a vest with my DNA on display?"

"It, errrr, was a display dedicated to officers who died in the line of duty," the largest bear said, growling sadly when Sofia paled. "The historical records showed you did not have any cubs."

"Babies," his grizzled companion grunted.

"You did not have any babies, so your bloodline did not continue. Our embassy arranged to borrow the vest, but your DNA was too badly degraded to replicate."

Sofia nodded her head, grinning cockily as she waited for them to continue. Space Bears have an embassy on Earth. I wonder if I'll remember any of this when I come to?

"There is a wormhole not far from our home world. Our scientists developed a way of using it to go back in time to bring you here," said the female. "We always intended to send you home, but the device failed. We cannot safely open the wormhole again. We are sorry."

"Yeah," Sofia said. This was fun, but she was ready for reality to return. "If you don't mind, my head hurts. I think I'm going to go back to bed now."

"Of course," the bespectacled bear said. "We shall see that you are brought food when you arise."

"And I'm sure it will be just right," she said, waving as her guests plodded out of sight.

"I hope I remember this. My mom will die laughing," Sofia said before drifting off to sleep.

In the corner, the three bears watched her quietly.

"She seems to be taking it very well," said the biggest bear.

"It is shock," said the medium bear.

"We shall see," the littlest bear added. "We shall see."

The room was still dark when she woke up again, but this time there was another figure sitting in a large chair. It smiled – or showed its very large, sharp teeth in what appeared to be a friendly manner – when it waddled to her bedside. Like the others, he was wearing a bruin bio-suit, but the fur on his exposed face was a beautiful warm tan.

"We have prepared food for you," it said, bowing awkwardly as it reached her side.

"Good. I'm starved," Sofia said, hoping her mind supplied an appropriate feast. She was going to pig out since it was calorie-free.

"I hope you find it satisfactory," he said in a nervous tone. "Terrrran salmon is considered a delicacy on our world, but we have only a limited selection of other human food. We do have a variety of our food which is compatible with your digestive processes."

"Sounds good to me. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."

The figure stopped, rubbing his paws in a state of anxiety. "Horse. We did not realize that was a human food source. We can import some, of course, but it will take time."

"It's just an expression," she reassured him with a grin.

He let his shoulders drop in relief, a considerable action for an ursine species. She gazed at him for a minute, wondering if he was young by bear standards. If he were human, she'd say he was in his late teens.

"So where's the dining room?"

"When the medics saw your sleep cycle was approaching an end, we sent for food. It is over here. I shall bring it to you."

"You're new, aren't you?" she asked as he scampered to a table barely visible in the distance.

He nodded his head as if honored by her recognition. "Yes. How would you like to refer to me?"

"I get to pick your name?" Sofia asked in amusement. Why not? I'm making him up.

"Humans cannot pronounce our given names. As our most honored guest, you may call us by your choice." He carried the heavy table easily to her bedside and began unpacking the massive basket.

"I pic-a-nic basket. I guess Yogi is too obvious."

The young bear let out an amazingly high pitched growl. "You honor me too much! Too much! I do not deserve to be named after the venerable Y'oh'gy! He is our most famous scientist."

Sofia resisted the urge to laugh. It was only a hallucination, but he seemed a nice young bear. There wasn't any reason to insult him. "So, he really was smarter than the average B'rruin."

"Most definitely."

She smiled as she stared at the whole, raw cabbages he set on the table. I eat healthy when I'm conscious. I want chocolate.. "What about Boo-boo?"

"You mock me now," the young bear cried. "The benevolent Bü-b'ooh was a kind saint."

"I'm sorry. Honestly. Uh, how's Ted?" she asked. "Or is that considered offensive?"

"I like Ted," he said after considering it for a moment. "It is a strong name, yet easy to remember. I shall answer to it with pride."

"Why pride?" Sofia asked as she picked up what appeared to be her mind's equivalent of an alien apple. Biting into it, she chewed politely and swallowed the sickly sweet fruit.

"You are our most honored guest," he said as if it was obvious. "Your DNA will save our world."

"Of course. The reason you went through a wormhole to find me. So, what is this plague?"

"We do not like to talk of it," he growled quietly.

"The one doctor, she was going bald around…"

An angry look came to his eyes, and for a brief moment, she wondered if her hallucination was turning dark. "We do not like to talk of it!"

Sofia held out her hands apologetically. Who knew her mind was so damn sensitive? "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was a taboo subject."

"You are right. I most humbly apologize," Ted said, bowing awkwardly and repeatedly. "It has been a source of considerable anguish for my people for three of your decades. You would not know of the social ramifications of this cursed disease."

An embarrassed silence followed, which Sofia found irking. It was her mind; there was no reason to be embarrassed of it. "So, if humans can't pronounce your names, how come I could say 'Yogi' and 'Boo-boo'?"

"Your pronunciation was not perfect," Ted said with what she imagined was an amused grin. "But those are names we use when dealing with alien species. Very few have the vocal cord structure required to correctly pronounce them."

She tried another piece of fruit and gave him a pleased smile. Not only was the fruit delicious, but she was rather proud of the way her mind worked around that logical contradiction.

"If you desire, I can pronounce the venerable Y'oh'gy's proper name for you."

"I'd love to hear it," she said.

Ted then proceeded to make a sound that was a cross between growling, gargling and tearing another living being to shreds.

"You're right. No way I could have pronounced that. Wow, how much food did you pack in there?" The basket was closer to the size of a small car than a human-sized picnic.

"We did not know what you would find acceptable, so we prepared a wide variety." He paused before reaching into the basket again. "Errr, we understand humans from your time period and geographic location generally ate fish cooked. We do not cook any of our food, but the chefs attempted it with the Terrrran salmon."

"It gives a new meaning to blackened." Sofia attempted to scrape away the char, but it was a solid lump of black. Ted rubbed his paws in a fretful manner. "It's a little overdone."

"I am so sorry. We…"

"It's okay," she interrupted. "You wouldn't have known. Is this honey?"

"Oh, yes. It is our number one export. We maintain massive hives of what you would probably call bees. Try it on the pressed nut cakes."

"This is good," she said, eagerly eating another helping. "What're the green specks?"

"That is the undeveloped larva! They add a wonderful crunch and protein."

"Yeah. They do."Not that I would have tried them if I knew what they were. I better not tell Grissom this part of my hallucination. He'll try to get me to eat real bee larva or something.

Ted absentmindedly began trying to rub behind his ear, then stopped and dropped his head in shame.

"Does it itch? I can reach it easier than you can."

His amber eyes watered, then he shook his head adamantly. "I cannot risk infecting you."

"Well, my DNA cures it, so it's not like it can hurt me. Come here." She was surprised at how soft and luxurious his fur felt, and he made little grunting noises of pleasure, pressing firmer against her hand. Taking the hint, she scratched harder. Looking closer, she saw the raw and inflamed skin under his fur, a detail she wished her mind hadn't supplied. It looked like a very painful condition.

"Oh, thank you so much. Your kindness is astounding," Ted said when he stood back up. "No one has ever groomed me so satisfactorily," he said, and Sofia was sure he was blushing under his fur.

"Hey, I can understand you without hearing any growling," Sofia said suddenly.

"That is because I speak Standard. You do not know, of course. The nurse and doctors spoke our tongue, which is the growl you heard, but the translation device rendered it into something you can understand."

"That makes sense."For a figment of my imagination. Maybe I should have listened to Dad when he told me to take those creative writing courses.

She continued to eat, offering Ted some of the bounty. He clapped his gloved paws in delight, honored to be included in the feast. He told her of his winning the tree-climbing contest the year before, and his hopes for the upcoming planet-wide competition. The whole time, he offered her different delicacies, carefully noting which foods she enjoyed.

Is it sad that my imaginary friends are more considerate than my real ones? Brass is going to love this story. He likes bears.

"So, if I can't go home, what's the plan?" she asked as she finished her meal.

"Errrr, that is a difficult question," Ted answered, looking around nervously. "I am not supposed to talk of it, but our bringing you here through time was a criminal act. Please do not judge us too harshly! You were our only hope."

"And is the Space Sheriff coming to arrest you for doing it?"

Ted pranced in an agitated state. "We fear that may be so. A ship approaches our world now."

"An entire planet? That's going to take a pretty big jail."

"The action was taken without authority from the governing council. The scientists of this medical center acted on their own accord," he whined. "Do not hate us all."

"How could I hate someone as cute as you?" Besides, that'd be a type of psychosis, wouldn't it? You are part of my imagination.

Ted growled and rocked his head back and forth. "You are too kind!"

"That's something I don't hear everyday. Feel free to tell me whenever the urge strikes you," Sofia said, grinning when he carefully scooped up her hand in his gloved paws and rubbed his snout along her forearm.

He stepped back looking amazingly sheepish for a bear, and Sofia gave him a sweet smile. It faded when a chime started, and Ted began to howl sadly.

"They have come. I shall probably never see you again, most honored one. Your kindness will never be forgotten among our people. I shall name my first cubs 'Ted' in your memory."

"Oh, I'll see you again," she said with complete confidence. "I like you."

Ted regarded her oddly, but he stepped in front of her protectively when the doors on the far side of the cavernous room opened.

"The chroniton particles emanate from this room," a voice said in a cool, even tone. "And the life signs are human."

"You created a temporal anomaly so you could kidnap a human from the past? What were you thinking?" another voice demanded in a halting speech pattern.

"We needed her DNA to save our world. We can create a cure for the dreaded disease afflicting our population."

Sofia tried to look over Ted's massive shoulders, but the room was too large to see the figures crossing the room in the dim light.

"Is that possible?" Halting Voice asked.

"The B'rruin asked for all information on the human genome years ago," another voice replied with a pronounced Southern drawl. "It wouldn't be the first time one species' DNA provided a cure for another species."

"The circumstances may be extenuating, but that does not change the illegal nature of the act, both as a violation of time travel and kidnapping an innocent woman," the logical voice said.

"We know this," the tall, bespectacled bear said with a resigned tone. "We shall accept our punishment. All we ask is that you allow our colleagues to develop the antidote we need."

"I think our young lady here has the final say in that," said the man with the Southern voice. He stepped into the light, and Sofia chuckled at his uniform. I better never take up fashion design if that's the best I can come up with.

"How much do you need?" she asked the tall bear.

"A single hair with a tag shall suffice."

"Go for it," she said, smiling as he gingerly tried to grasp a single strand. "Here, let me do that for you."

"Oh, thank you," he replied with a bow.

"She is most kind and generous," Ted told him in a loud whisper.

"How is she, Bones?" the man with the affected speech patterns asked. Sofia laughed openly at his v-neck, mustard colored tunic.

The other man frowned as he waved what looked like a salt shaker over her body. "Hmph, I need to get her to Sickbay now," he muttered unhappily, replacing the salt shaker with a bulky cell phone. "Scotty, two to beam back. Damn transporters, scattering your molecules…"

Sofia blinked as she was in a new room, standing on an odd dais. Her companion continued with his tirade as if never interrupted.

"…all over the damn galaxy."

"Now, Doctor, ye know the transporters are perfectly safe. Welcome to the Enterprise, miss," said a man dressed in a red tunic. "I'm Commander Montgomery Scott. Ye can call me Scotty."

"Thanks, Scotty. I'm Sofia," she answered with a friendly grin.

Another swooshing sound caught her attention, and a blonde woman in a very skimpy skirt dashed into the room.

Sofia let her two companions – the male apparently was a Dr. McCoy – direct her through some generic corridors into a room labeled Sickbay.

"Let's get her started on dydadezic right away," her companion barked. "Damn primitive drugs. How stupid can people be?"

"Dr. McCoy, I think you better have a look at this," Nurse Chapel said, pointing to a readout above Sofia's head. A bunch of indicators moved in some sort of pattern that caused the doctor to frown.

"How long were you taking drugs?"

"I never took drugs, except what my doctors prescribed," she answered in a somewhat peeved voice. There was that incident in college, but her mind had no business trying to make her feel guilty about that now.

"Your system shows exposure to large amounts of methamphetamines, psilocybin, diacetylmorphine, methylbenzoylecgonine and a host of other controlled substances."

I'm stoned! No wonder this is so weird!

"I'm Detective Sofia Curtis with the Las Vegas Police Department. I was involved in a raid on a drug factory, and a fight erupted with some of the manufacturers. The boxes of stuff got knocked on me before the Space Bears took me."

"Oh, really," he said in some disbelief. His frown lessened as he continued to push buttons and swing condiment containers over her body. "But there's no indication of long-term drug use. Well, this medication will remove the last of it from your system. Let's see what the brutes did to your arm."

"That was a drug guy, not the bears."

"They didn't do much to heal it," he said, running the salt shaker over the wound. "Gunpowder! A projectile weapon! Savages."

Chapel appeared with a box of assorted colored vials, and he picked one out with ease. "This won't hurt a bit," he promised.

"So, what was this disease the bears were suffering?" she asked, totally amused by her brain's detour into the bizarre.

"The B'rruins suffer from a contagious variant of seborrheic dermatitis…"

"Dandruff? They kidnapped me because they have dandruff?" Sofia asked incredulously. This was a trip for the record books.

"Well, it's a bit more severe than just dandruff," McCoy said calmly. "Besides, imagine having a bad hair day over your whole body. For the rest of your life. From what I understand, it's also fairly painful."

"Ted said there was a social stigma."

"You called one of them Ted?" Chapel said with an amused smile. "The B'rruin traditionally considered poor grooming to be a sign of an improper upbringing. It reflects badly on the whole family, and they are a very social-oriented species. When this disease struck, it shattered ancient and complex family ties. It was years before people realized it was a contagious disease brought in from Ovinus Three. It's caused a lot of suffering beyond the physical to the whole planet."

"Okay," Sofia said, doing a double take when she looked back at her arm. "It's healed."

"Not quite. The derma-clad needs time to fully grow into your skin cells, but it should heal without any scarring."

"Well, thank you for that," she said, her earlier amusement starting to fade. Must be the drugs starting to wear off. "So how long until I come out of this hallucination?"

McCoy stared at her for a moment before his gruff demeanor faded to one of concern. He rested a hip on her bed and sighed softly. "My dear, I'm afraid this isn't a hallucination. You were kidnapped and brought here against your will."

"Right. Space Bears traveled back in time to bring me to the … what century is this?"

"The twenty-third," Chapel said.

"They traveled back in time nearly three centuries, brought me through a wormhole to cure their dandruff. Trust me, this is the mother of all hallucinations. Ouch!"

He gave her an apologetic shrug as he released the pinched flesh. "Do you really think hallucinations feel pain?"

"I don't know. I'm a detective, not a doctor!"

She gave her head a shake as a fog lifted from her mind, only to be replaced by a growing nervousness. The light-heartedness and giddiness she felt earlier were gone, and she was left with a very real sense of unease. She had never had a hallucination or bad trip before, but this seemed too real for either of those conditions.

How long do hallucinations last? This has been days. But dreams seem like they last a long time, but they take a very short period in reality. But this doesn't feel like a dream. I felt that pinch. I remember the taste of the food.

Get real, Sofia. Space travel is hard enough to believe, but time travel is impossible. This can't be happening.

But it feels like it is.

"I want to sleep," she finally said.

He smiled sadly before patting her shoulder. "That's a good idea, give the dydadezic time to rest. I'll check up on you later."

"Can you bring Ted with you? He was more fun."

McCoy shook his head again. "Rest, miss."

"Sure."

"A Detective Sofia Curtis did work for the Las Vegas Police Department at the approximate time the B'rruins went back in time," Uhura said as she scanned the historical documents on her screen. "She was reported killed during the same time period when a building full of illegal drugs exploded."

"That would explain the stuff I found in her system and her injuries," Bones said. "Plus it matches up with her account of what happened."

"Her body was never found," Uhura added, turning away from her console. "Isn't there any way we can send her back?"

"I don't see how," Spock said from his place at the science station. "The B'rruin's device was too primitive. Their travel created an instability in the temporal flux. The graviton emissions from the wormhole continue to fluctuate wildly. Attempting to repeat the procedure is too dangerous."

"What about another slingshot around the Sun?" Kirk asked. "No, Star Fleet would never allow it. I guess she can petition the Federation Council for permission to use the Guardian of Forever."

"I doubt they will grant an exemption in her case. There appears to have been no serious disruption in the space-time continuum caused by her early 'death'. She will have to stay in our timeline," Spock said.

"Bones, how serious are her injuries?" Kirk asked.

"Nothing severe. We're flushing the last of the drugs out of her body. Looks like the B'rruin attempted to do the same, but they got the dosage too low. They treated her skull fracture and concussion. She'll be out of Sickbay by tomorrow morning."

"Then I guess we have a guest until we can drop her off at Starbase 181."

"She'll be lost there!" Uhura stated. "She knows nothing about modern life."

Kirk gave her a reassuring smile. "She won't be alone."

Sofia nodded at the various figures gathered around the conference table, again shaking her head at the skimpy attire the black woman wore. Like I'm supposed to believe professional women in the future dress like rejects from a go-go dance.

So, what is my brain trying to tell me here? I had no kids and I died alone. Am I working too hard and I need to take more time for myself? I don't dress skimpy enough? I should dress like a sleaze and get myself knocked up? Man, that 'Captain' acts like he wants the job.

This can't be real.

I can taste the coffee. It's bad, but I can taste it. I tasted the eggs Chapel brought me this morning. This gray outfit is comfortable, but I can feel it on my skin. The wound McCoy healed itches. I can feel it.

This has to be fake. I can't be on a space ship light years away from Earth.

"Sofia," Kirk said, flashing her a charming smile. "Do you mind if I call you Sofia?"

"Knock your socks off."

"Interesting phrase, but I'll keep them on for now. We understand this has been a very confusing period for you. I don't blame you if you find it overwhelming. We'll do what we can to help you adjust to this time period."

"I thought you might want to know how things progressed after your abduction, so I had Star Fleet send the historical database. We were able to find your, well, your obituary in the records," Uhura said, pressing a series of buttons to activate the console in front of Sofia.

"Detective Sofia Curtis, thirty-five, died in a warehouse explosion," she read. "Explosion?"

"Your colleagues in the forensic lab finally decided the earlier attempt to burn the records left lingering embers which ignited the chemicals used to create the illicit pharmaceuticals," Spock said. "In reality, it was most likely a result of the temporal flux created by the unstable tachyon emissions caused by the B'rruin time travel device."

Sofia frowned at the string of unfamiliar babble, but then shook her head. "But I didn't die in that explosion. I was kidnapped. I never had a chance to have children, continuing my bloodline, because they took me!"

"You don't want to go there," Bones told her with a warm smile. "Paradoxes will only make your head hurt again, and that's a type of pain I can't treat."

"Those damn Space Bears," she sighed.

"They prefer to be called by their species name – B'rruin," Spock said with the faintest trace of reproach.

"I don't care what they want. They're figments of my damn imagination!" Sofia snarled, her mind slowly coming to the conclusion this might not be in her mind. The alternatives weren't pleasing .

"I find your assertion that this is all a hallucination to be highly illogical."

"Illogical? Try looking at it from my perspective," she said, counting off on her fingers. "I'm having a hallucination, I've had a psychotic breakdown, or Space Bears kidnapped me from my home – hell, from my century – because they have dandruff. Which option would you find the most comforting?"

Spock raised an eyebrow in an impressive display and steepled his fingers. "There is merit in your position. However, consider the following. If you're having a hallucination of this length and complexity, it suggests a serious brain injury, most likely untreatable by your doctors. Likewise, a psychotic breakdown this severe would also be untreatable in your century, meaning you'll spend the rest of your life in a mental institution.

"If, as we have told you, you are in the twenty-third century, then, yes, you are without any living relatives and friends, and you are adrift in a new world."

"Damn, pointy-eared Vulcan," McCoy muttered under his breath. "You're not helping."

Spock continued without acknowledging the doctor. "But in this time frame, advancements in medicine mean your lifespan will be considerably extended. You essentially can begin your life again.

"The violent crime you fought is a rarity rather than a certainty on Federation worlds. You can begin a new career, or return to law enforcement after adequate education into this time period. You will find your extensive knowledge of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries in high demand by numerous history departments and museums.

"Or, if you decide you do not want to work, the B'rruins have deposited Federation credits in your name as compensation," he said, handing her one of the boxy pads in front of him.

"And this is how much?" she asked in defeat.

He leaned back thoughtfully, his fingers again steepling. "Given inflation, exchange factors and technological changes, I would roughly estimate that to be equivalent to two hundred eighty-seven million, four hundred ninety-two thousand, six hundred twelve dollars and ninety-seven cents from your time period."

Sofia stared at him for a long time. "Roughly estimate?"

"There is some uncertainty in the historical records regarding inflationary factors. I may be off by as much as one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and nine cents."

"Is he for real?" she asked Bones.

"I'm afraid so," he grumbled.

"Wow. Someone with your skills would have been incredible to have back at the lab."

"Undoubtedly," Spock agreed.

"Do you have any idea yet what you want to do?" Kirk asked, flashing her the look of a man used to being the object of women's desire.

"Wake up from my hallucination?" Sofia offered weakly, forcing a brief smile when Uhura chuckled. "I don't know. How do I learn to fit into this world?"

"The Vulcan Academy offers a course for people stranded in different time periods," Spock said, noting her confused expression. "Anomalies which affect the space-time continuum are more common than you might realize. Shall I make inquiries for you?"

"Do they have a correspondence course?"

"I'll have the information transmitted to our computer. I can show you how to access the databases later."

"Thanks. I guess."

Kirk gave her cheerful smile. "We'll reach Starbase 181 in four days. You can acquire quarters there, or arrange passage to Earth, or any Federation planet. The B'rruins have offered to host you for the rest of your life."

"You're dumping me?"

"No. We're scheduled for some shore leave, so the crew will be there for three days. After we leave, Dr. McCoy is staying behind. He'll be at your disposal for a few weeks at least."

The doctor gave her a polite nod.

"I guess that's settled," Sofia said with a resigned sigh.

"Are you transferring?" she asked McCoy as he escorted her to another deck.

"Not exactly," he answered, pausing before chuckling darkly. "Or transferring permanently."

"I'm sorry, is that an idiom I don't understand?"

"No. This is our deck," he said, extending his arm toward the opened doors. She glanced at him, but he offered no further explanation.

McCoy stopped them in front of a set of red doors, showing her how to operate the system. When the doors opened, they stepped into a small room, with a thin mattress on the bed.

"I think the B'rruin had better beds," she said, eyeing it suspiciously.

"The Enterprise wasn't designed for luxury, but she gets the job done."

Sofia nodded in acknowledgement as she turned the computer screen to face her. The system was remarkably easy to operate, not requiring any keyboard or mouse.

"What's wrong?" she asked when she looked up and saw the look of deep pain on his face.

"Help me sit," he grunted, fumbling with the pouch hanging from his side.

"Let me get Nurse Chapel." Sofia stood still for a beat. She had no clue where Sickbay was, or how the communication system worked. "How do I get Nurse Chapel?"

"No need." McCoy let out a long breath after pressing a pen-life object against his arm. When his harsh look didn't faze her, he let it morph to one showing years of worry. "I guess the cat's out of the bag. I have Tomilson's Syndrome."

"Is that bad?"

"Fatal."

"I, I'm sorry."

McCoy flashed her a genuine smile. "You're mighty polite to the figments of your imagination."

Sofia returned the grin with one of her own. "Well, I'm stuck here, regardless if it's my brain backfiring or time-traveling aliens. Might as well make the best of it."

"A very mature outlook, I must say."

"I would hope so," she said. "If this is real, I'm coming up on my three hundredth birthday. Or did I already pass it? I haven't gotten the hang of star dates yet."

"You'll get it in time."

Sofia grunted. "Time isn't my friend."

"I think that should be my line," he said darkly.

"Do you need a drink of water or something?" Sofia asked, still concerned about the doctor. She didn't care how advanced the medicine was; he had been in considerable pain.

"Some food wouldn't hurt. Would you like to join me for lunch?"

"Okay. Where do you eat on a starship?"

"The mess hall."

"Of course," she said, smiling as he offered his arm to her. Walking down the hallways, she kept a close eye on him, but he remained steady on his feet, and the pained look had drained from his face by the time they reached their destination. A few faces glanced their way when they entered, and a handful of officers greeted her kindly, but then they were left alone as they gathered their food.

"This isn't bad," she said as she started on her salad.

"Wait until you get to Starbase 181. They have an excellent restaurant with real food, not this replicated stuff."

Sofia's fork paused halfway to her mouth, and she looked at him with a cautious expression. "This isn't Soylent Green, is it?"

"I don't know whatthat is, but I can tell you that isn't it."

"Good."

Their conversation at lunch was light, and she avoided asking any medical related questions. An occasional officer stopped by their table briefly. McCoy introduced them all, and Sofia felt comfortable by how friendly everyone seemed.

She mentioned this to him as he escorted her back to her quarters. "Basic space psychology. You have a bunch of people stuck on a ship together for extended periods of time. You don't want surly people on board."

"Really?" she said with a teasing smile.

If he was a figment of her damaged brain, she couldn't blame the result. Behind his gruff exterior, he was friendly and charming when he wanted to be. If he was real, there were worse people to have as a companion while stranded in a new time.

"I'm not surly," he countered with mock indignity. "I just don't have any patience for damn fools. Your quarters, ma'am."

Over the next four days, Sofia tried to catch up with the modern world. She started reading concise histories of Earth, the Federation and of changes in science, but she was confused by recurring conversations about the Neutral Zone and Romulans. She set aside the histories for current events. It was a staggering amount of information, and she had only begun to scratch the surface.

Uhura showed her how to access the historical databases, and she researched what happened to her friends and family. Her parents lived into their nineties, having spent the remainder of their lives running a highly successful anti-drug campaign. Brass died ten years after her 'death' in a random car accident. Grissom and Sara eventually married, had children and a whole brood of grandchildren.

It was the internal logic and consistency of it that made her uneasy. Hallucinations were supposed to be disjointed, weren't they? Not researching lost family and friends, or reading about their grandson's Nobel Prize in economics.

The crew continued to be friendly. Spock provided her with a case full of the memory cards holding information on a variety of subjects and worlds. He also included a separate set of cards containing information on works of art and musical recordings. Uhura and Chapel checked up on her daily, and Kirk continued to let his interest in her be known.

Much to the annoyance of the Federation prosecutor, she refused to press charges against the B'rruin for kidnapping her. They still faced a trial for the time travel, but she left a character statement praising their care and treatment.

And every day McCoy joined her for lunch, offering suggestions for further reading, including works of fiction, commenting negatively on Spock's lifetime reading list, and steering her away from some of the more adventurous food choices available in the mess hall.

When they reached the Starbase, Kirk invited her to the bridge to view the approach on the main viewer.

"Impressive," she breathed out, trying to grasp the vastness of the station, which was dwarfed by the star field behind it. She never thought of being an astronaut when growing up, but she understood the draw now.

"Yes, it is," he agreed.

McCoy and Scotty appointed themselves her guides on the station, helping her get quarters and pointing out favorite haunts. She invited them to join her in a drink, and she was quickly introduced to the world of Saurian brandy. McCoy halted them after one drink, much to Scotty's annoyance, but he pointed out Sofia wasn't used to this type of alcohol.

"I feel like a mental patient," she said at the end of the day, causing both men to stare at her. "Everyone looks at me like I don't belong."

"It's your clothing," McCoy decided, nodding at the plain blue jumpsuit she'd been provided with from ship stores.

"Plus everyone recognizes a celebrity when they see one," Scotty added. "You've been in every news report in the quadrant."

"No wonder everyone keeps staring."

"It'll pass, lass."

Scotty left them to catch up with the base's engineer, and Sofia let McCoy lead the way. Eventually they reached her quarters, and her eyes opened wide in surprise. A variety of flowers covered the coffee table and desk.

"A gift from the B'rruins," McCoy said, reading the first note. "The cure is working."

"I'm glad of that. Why are you staring at me?"

"They kidnapped you, left your family to think you died a horrible death, and you're glad they're going to be all right."

Sofia shrugged as she collapsed on the sofa.

"What else can I do? Getting angry with them isn't going to accomplish anything. They didn't mean to trap me in the future, and they were desperate. Besides, they were very nice."

McCoy looked at her with a broad smile. "You are an amazing woman."

"Comes with age," she replied with a grunt. Pulling at the jumpsuit, she wrinkled her nose. "I need new clothes."

"I agree. And luckily you have the money to buy anything that catches your eye."

"I can't say I liked what your female officers were wearing. I like to be able to bend over without mooning the world."

McCoy waggled his eyebrows. "I don't know. I rather like the style myself."

"You wear it, then."

Chuckling, he retrieved two cups of Vacana tea and pressed one into her hands. The spicy, floral scent was invigorating. "One draw back of a united federation of planets is every damn one of them wants the uniforms designed to their standards of comfort or fashion. The style ends up changing every few years to accommodate someone's new complaint or suggestion."

"Doesn't sound very efficient," Sofia said, sipping the tea and smiling as it tickled her throat on the way down.

"Oh, it works perfectly," McCoy said, his eyes twinkling in mirth. "Every species hates them equally."

Laughing, she took another sip of the tea and gradually sat upright. "How does one go about getting clothes in this century? Or do I need to buy antiques to find something I'll like?"

"You'll find a wide range of fashions from different worlds. One of them is bound to be to your liking." Sitting at the desk, he tapped a few buttons on her computer, bringing up a database of clothing.

"There's only a few thousand options," she said in disbelief as a wide range of colors, fabrics and styles rolled by on the screen. Closing her eyes, she felt the familiar sense of being overwhelmed.

God, this is real, isn't it?

"Let me contact the ship historian. He can send some records from your time period to the clothing shop here, and they can design something based on those. I'll send the shop your measurements, and they can contact you when the samples are ready."

She opened her eyes to give him a pointed glare. "And just how did you get my measurements?"

McCoy lifted his pouch. "My medical tricorder."

"So much for privacy."

"I assure you, ma'am, my interest was purely medical."

"I don't know whether to be grateful or insulted, Dr. McCoy," she replied, giving him a teasing look.

"Call me Leonard."

Media representatives from two dozen worlds all wanted exclusive interviews, and she spent one exhausting day answering questions in a packed meeting room. A flood of thank you notes arrived for her daily from B'rruin, along with shipments of honey, fruit and flowers.

The clothing shop designed a staggering array of outfits for her based on ancient styles, but updated with modern twists and fabrics. Having plenty of credits – and really disliking her jumpsuit – she ordered a closet full. McCoy complimented her taste, and she could tell he wasn't just being polite about her unique outfits.

Over the next few weeks, they continued to eat lunch together. Every day they stayed later, lingering over the meals and chatting casually to the point they shared all meals together. For his part, he underwent whatever tests or treatments the medical center provided, but he seldom talked about it.

"But they're working on a cure here," she said one day in exasperation. "Why are you giving up hope?"

"Because a pessimist is always pleasantly surprised," he answered wearily.

"A pessimist is always a pain in the ass to the people around him," she countered, grinning at his startled look.

"They're doing research, but that doesn't mean they're anywhere near a cure. It could be next month or two hundred years from now."

She rolled her eyes at that statement. "For all you know, you'll be there in two hundred years to get the cure. Don't give up hope. When all is said and done, it's the only thing that keeps you going."

"I take it you have hope?"

"I'm alive. I'm secure. I don't know what the hell that was that just passed by us, but I can learn."

"That was an Andorian. Nasty blue buggers. Never turn your back on one."

Sofia was still getting used to his very direct statements regarding aliens. "And what would they say about you?"

"That I'm a nasty pink bugger you shouldn't turn your back on." When she shook her head, he misconstrued her meaning. "If you want some reference materials on Andorians…"

"No, it's okay. It's just not a very PC thing to say. I'm not used to such open…hostility to another race, uh, species."

"PC?"

"Politically correct."

McCoy looked at her in shock. "The government told people what they could say and they let them? No wonder things turned out the way they did."

Sofia let him continue his rant about eugenics, Khan and Colonel Green until he realized she wasn't following his references. He shrugged, but without apology.

"It's a rough galaxy out there. Other species aren't human, and it's a huge mistake to assign human motivations and desires to them. It's caused a lot of troubles in the past," he said in a very serious tone. "Most of them are as friendly as you can expect, but some will kill you for looking at them the wrong way."

"Sounds like life isn't so different as it was in my time."

"If you believe that, then I've done a terrible job as your tour guide."

"You don't have to do this," she said after finishing her iced catasa. "You probably have things you'd rather do than explain elementary science or how to work the shower to me."

"On the contrary, my dear. I consider it an honor to be your mentor."

His gentle smile caused her to blush slightly.

Sofia found her growing friendship with McCoy to be an anchor. While most people were nice to her, it was still startling to be served lunch by someone with more arms than she had digits. Her constant studying was closing the gaps in some areas, but the fact was schoolchildren knew more about science, math or history than she did, and it was a disconcerting feeling.

On some level, McCoy reminded her a little bit of Grissom. He shared the same intelligence and devotion to his work, and he had the same politeness. But where Grissom came off as aloof and hard to understand, McCoy was direct, but possessing a charm that was as genuine as it was irresistible.

Despite her misgivings about his blunt feelings toward aliens, he didn't hesitate to help them. When there was a docking accident with a transport ship, he rushed into the chaos to treat the wounded without regard to their blood color or how many limbs they had. Without thinking, she joined in to help, directing bystanders away from the scene, and trying to calm the injured and trapped.

Later, she was shocked by how many people pointed her out, or why the Security supervisor sent her the current employment requirements.

"Most people run away when there's a chance of a coolant leak," McCoy explained. "The damnable stuff is toxic and a terrible way to die. Your bravery impressed quite a few people."

"But I didn't know about it. That's not bravery! You're the one who went in knowing what you faced."

"Well, it's not like I have a lot to lose. Six months, a year tops."

"It matters to me," Sofia said with an unexpected depth of emotion. "You're about the only friend I have in the universe, and I don't want you to die."

"I'm not too keen on the idea myself, but I'm only a doctor, not a miracle worker." They came to a stop outside the entrance to her quarters, and he seemed weighted down by worry.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm afraid your DNA isn't going to be the cure for this."

"I wish there was something I could do for you," she said. He watched her with a deep sadness, and she reached out to caress his face. He smiled but pulled her hand away gently.

"You are a remarkable woman," he sighed. "But you don't want to waste your time on me."

"It's my time. And I've been given a lot more of it."

"No."

"Is it the age difference?" Sofia asked, freeing her hand. Stepping closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "If that's the case, I can tell you I'm definitely into much younger men."

He chuckled, resting his hands lightly on her hips.

"Leonard, I … do you have any idea what it's like being stuck in the future? I received a letter this morning from Dalana Grissom, the great-great-great-great, whatever, grand-daughter of some friends of mine. She sent me family photos of them, taken years after I 'died', and do you know how weird it was looking at those? I'll never see them again. They weren't even married when I was taken."

"This is why you shouldn't get involved. You're still coming to terms with all the changes."

"I'm going to spend the rest of my life coming to terms with all the changes," she said with a laugh. "I think that's good, in a twisted way. Look, I had a great job, and I was good at it. But it took too much of my time. I never really took the time to develop outside interests, to form a permanent relationship. My parents never had the grandkids they wanted so much."

"Sofia," he started.

"I lost everything, every connection I have to the world. You're here, and I really like you, and I can accept that you might die in a few months. But if that's going to happen, I want these months to be the best they can be for both of us. Is that too much to want?"

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. After a moment he pulled back, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Far be it from me to deny the wishes of such a lovely lady."

The next month passed quickly for Sofia, and they continued to grow closer. He was attentive and caring, and she often assured him of the advantages of having a lover who knew anatomy so well.

Ted and his companions were sentenced to three years on a penal colony, and she sent him regular letters, along with shipments of B'rruin honey and salmon from Earth. She looked over job offers from a score of museums and historical agencies, but she didn't want to leave the station or McCoy.

The medical center provided him with new treatments, and his bouts of crippling pain became less frequent. When they did strike, she cared for him as best as she could, but it was the analgesics he injected that brought them under control. He continued to gently insist that she not let his illness hold her back, and she ignored his requests.

As the research took a promising turn, McCoy's spirits started to lift, and he once casually mentioned starting a practice on a nice, M-class planet.

"Don't you want to go back to the Enterprise?" Sofia asked in surprise; the stories he told her of the crew and its adventures always held a trace of sentimental longing.

"Star Fleet is nice, but the missions are five years long. That's far too much time to spend away from you," he said over a mint julep.

The options available to them were numerous, and Sofia began making inquiries into interplanetary travel. Her quarters on the space station were better than those on the ship, but it was still drab. She wanted to be on ground again, to feel the wind and to see the sky. McCoy laughed at her expression when he told her she had her choice of blue, purple, red, orange, gray or yellow skies.

"So, I take it you finally believe I'm not a figment of your imagination," he said one day as they lingered in bed.

She let out a sigh as she rolled over. "I don't know. You seem too good to be true."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear."

"You might not be a hallucination, but that doesn't mean this isn't a mental breakdown." Letting out a soft laugh, she sat up and turned to him in with an odd expression. "Just one thing. If I start making detailed miniatures of crime scenes, have me locked up."

"I promise. I have no idea why, but I'll escort you to the mental ward myself."

"You're too kind."

"Well, I have a reputation to maintain," he said with a salacious grin.

Later, they were looking over pictures from K'raskic III when a station employee came running into the café. "Urgent message from theEnterprise. Be here in two hours," she panted.

"Why do they need you?" Sofia asked, looking up in confusion when the worker handed the pad to her.

"They need you."

She turned to McCoy and the hint of panic in his eyes made her uneasy. "Why would they need to see me?"

"Temporal disturbances," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "They're always a bitch."

They went to pack some bags before the Enterprise arrived, with Sofia trying to get a more concrete answer from him.

"You don't like pessimists," he replied, pausing to draw her into a bear hug. "Just in case."

His pacing set her on edge, and Sofia was definitely anxious when they beamed back on board. Scotty, Spock and Kirk were all there to meet them, and in spite of their friendly greeting, she caught their expressions when Leonard took her hand.

"We're moving fast," he told her as they walked down a hallway. "You can tell by the vibrations. This is bad. Scotty wouldn't let anyone push the engines like this unless it was serious."

In the conference room, Spock pulled up detailed charts and graphs, and the string of babble caused her head to hurt.

"Please, Mr. Spock, can you keep it simple?" she finally asked.

"I was," he replied with a hint of surprise. "Temporal mechanics is a very complicated field. In simple terms, nature hates a vacuum. The B'rruin device created a vacuum in time. The wormhole is reacting wildly. If the situation is not corrected, this entire sector will become unstable."

"Unstable?" she asked uneasily.

"Time will no longer function properly, so to speak. Any ship trying to traverse the distance will be torn apart by the distortions as different parts of the ship will be moving in different time frames. No planets will be habitable, and there is no time to evacuate them. The death toll will be catastrophic."

"Damn it," McCoy swore softly.

"Can this be fixed?" she asked, suspecting the answer, but not wanting to hear it.

"We must send you back," Spock said. "If our calculations are correct, we'll return you to the time the B'rruin abducted you. There will be no explosion this time."

"I thought you couldn't send me back."

"We considered it far too dangerous to operate the B'rruin time travel device before. Now, we have no choice. You must be returned to correct the imbalance."

"Why does it have to be her? Why not beam some inert matter in her place?" Bones demanded.

"I'm afraid that won't work," Spock said with what was considerable compassion for him.

"How soon?" Sofia asked, not believing this was happening. I'm going home. I should be happy. I'll see my parents again. But I have to leave Leonard. I don't want to, but I can't let all those people die.

"Immediately. We'll reach the wormhole in a few minutes," Kirk told her. "I am sorry. For both of you."

"I'm going with her," Bones said defiantly.

"No, you're not," Sofia said. "They're close to finding a cure. You'll die if you go back with me. I won't let you throw it away."

"I'm willing to do that."

"I'm not," she said, wiping her tears away.

"Leonard," Spock said, startling everyone by using his first name. "We can't send you back. It would only reverse the polarity of the disturbance. The Earth would be destroyed. You'd kill Detective Curtis, yourself and the future if you went."

"We'll give you two some time," Kirk said. "I'm sorry it can't be longer."

"This isn't fair," Bones said, pulling her against his body. "This is so damn unfair."

"I know," she said, torn by the desire to stay and the knowledge she had to go.

They held each other tight, neither sure what could be said in these last few moments. When Kirk paged them to the Transporter Room, they kissed for a long time, and Bones forced a smile. "You still have your life in front of you, even if it's not going to be as long. Make the most of it."

"I will. You do the same, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

She hugged him a last time before climbing into the Transporter. Spock and Scotty expertly slid buttons and turned dials, all the while muttering about changing readings from the wormhole. The room faded in and out of focus, and swirls of lights pushed her toes into her feet.

"Oooh," she moaned, slowly forcing her eyes open.

"Hey, take it easy. You're okay. Don't try to move."

"Sara?" Sofia asked, reaching up to rub her aching head. Her fingers met a thick layer of gauze.

"Yeah, you really gave us a scare."

"What?" Sofia tried to focus, but everything in the room blurred if she moved her head, and her stomach complained from the motion.

"Your parents just left to get something to eat and change clothes. They'll be back in an hour or two."

"Oh."

"You sure know how to cause trouble," Sara teased as she held a cup of water. "A skull fracture, a concussion and getting yourself drenched in uncut narcotics. The doctors weren't sure how long it would take for you to come around."

Sofia blinked in disbelief. I was having a hallucination after all? But it was so real. "This was all a bad trip?" she asked in a raspy voice.

"I don't know aboutbad. You seemed to be enjoying parts of it," Sara said with a wink. "Don't worry. Jim won't tell your parents about it. He'll tease the hell out of you, but he won't tell them."

"I…I have no idea what you're talking about," Sofia said, hoping she hadn't been as vocal as she'd been in the hallucination. "How long was I out?"

"For a week. You've been coming out of it for the past two days."

"I … what?"

Sara set the cup down and rested on the edge of the bed. There was a tiredness to her expression that Sofia found troubling. "Take it easy. Do you remember anything?"

"The warehouse. Shooting. Boxes fell on me."

"That's it. You cracked your skull and had quite a ride."

"This is so weird," Sofia said, closing her eyes at the fresh wave of pain. "Why are you here?"

"You saved my life. Figured the least I could do was keep you company," Sara answered with an amused expression.

"Shouldn't you be with Grissom? You guys don't get a lot of time together since you switched shifts."

Sara dropped her head in embarrassment, but she shrugged when she looked back up. "He has a court appearance. He was here earlier."

"Tell him thanks. Have you two set the big day yet?"

"What?" Sara asked, now being the one who was acting confused.

"For the wedding."

Laughing, Sara got off the bed. "You definitely need to get some rest! Let me know if you need anything."

"Yeah. Thanks. And don't be surprised if he asks."

Sofia stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened. She'd been shot, then she had hit her head. Everything else had been a creation of her bruised brain, with help from the drugs. None of it had been real.

But it taught her a lesson. She'd been working too much, not devoting enough time to herself. She was undoubtedly going to have to take a long sick leave, but she was also going to take an extended vacation once she recovered enough to travel. Somewhere out there was her real Leonard McCoy, and she was going to try to find him.

A slow smile formed as she tried to remember all the details of her fantasy; her friends and family were going to love it. She would have laughed, but the action was too much work for her. When she ventured to sit up, she reached for the cup of water, but she ended up staring at her right forearm.

There was no trace of the bullet wound she received before the boxes fell on her head.

"No," she said in a raspy voice. "No way."

It was a hallucination. Space Bears can't travel through time. It's impossible.

There's no bullet wound. That didn't heal in a week without scarring.

I have a concussion and a skull fracture. Who knows if I'm remembering any of this correctly? Maybe I was never shot.

So I created an entire universe with its own internal logic while in a drug- and concussion-induced fantasy?

Maybe this never happened at all…

A/N II: Yes, my brain automatically defaults to bears for bizarre stories. I don't know why. It's probably better not to delve into that too deeply. No, I haven't watched any Star Trek in ages, so if the characterizations seem off, I apologize.