*ducks and covers* hi... so. This story is back from it's super unofficial hiatus! With the shortest chapter ever, but don't worry I'll be updating within the next week, I swear! I've been trying to improve my Star Trek knowledge so that I can write the characters better, but really I still know nothing about it.

As always, I don't own of the things I write fanfiction about, otherwise it wouldn't really be fanfiction, now would it?

Chapter Two

Spock has seen many strange things in his time aboard the U.S.S Enterprise. He has seen many strange things in less than a week's time. There should be nothing horribly surprising about the human that they discovered floating in space, perfectly intact, like he was breathing on earth and not deep space. And yet, when Scotty beamed him aboard, he could not help being drawn towards him. Spock followed him into the Sick Bay, and waited for him to wake up so that he could answer his questions. He proved to be unhelpful so far, but Dr. McCoy seemed to think that his body was in shock, that he was going to recover and be more useful later.

Spock has decided that the only logical course of action there is to take is to trust the doctor. The space-breather does not appear to be waking in the near future and he has duties to attend to, duties that I should not shirk simply because this visitor confuses me.

"I am leaving now," Spock says, going towards the door.

"Okay. Should I send word up to the bridge when he wakes up?"

"Yes, Doctor."


As the doors slide shut, Doctor McCoy turns back to his patient, frowning slightly. More than slightly, really. More than he, as a professional doctor on a ship like the Enterprise, should. And he knows all of this, but this alien visitor, human in appearance, completely inhuman beyond his flesh as the physical examination showed, set McCoy on edge. He didn't have a good feeling about this person's presence on the Enterprise.

This is not the first time you've felt this way, Bones, he reminds himself as he sets back to work, ignoring that annoying part of him that pointed out that sometimes he was right to not trust some of their guests. And sometimes you're wrong so just shut up and get over it.

There isn't much to be done for the alien visitor. He's relatively uninjured, and the tests that McCoy is running aren't yet finished, so he can't know anything about his physical makeup until then.

McCoy's eyes are fixed on the screens, ignoring the disconcertion he felt about his patient, waiting for the tests to finish and half hoping that someone will come in needing his assistance.

His wish doesn't get granted, instead the patient moves, quickly, like a wary cat. And suddenly McCoy is staring at the fully-awake figure shrinking into the corner of the bed in self-protection. McCoy raises his hands instinctively to show the visitor that he doesn't plan on causing him harm and steps towards him carefully.

"Stop." The voice is harsh, ragged, and ten different kinds of confused, but it holds power and authority and McCoy almost freezes in his tracks.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

"I am Loki, of Asgard."

(And I am burdened with glorious purpose.) See why I wanted to end it there? Hope you enjoyed! Review!