Hikaru Sulu's Quarters. Enterprise Station.

"How crazy was that? She saw herself drowning?" Pavel asked, as he sat in the chair by the desk.

Hikaru folded up his clean laundry, placing folded shirts and pants into the dresser, before moving to the closet.

"Crazy doesn't even cover it, Pavel. More like fucked up," he said, placing the folded quilt back onto the shelf.

Pavel shrugged, "I wonder where she's from," he said. "Hey, maybe tomorrow we can show her how to use the database, maybe it'll help if we can pull any records up."

"McCoy put her down with a heavy sedative, so it probably wont wear off til after dinner," he said.

"I know, ass. I was there when he gave it to her," Pavel said, rolling his eyes.

Hikaru shrugged, "Maybe we should just let her rest and get used to living here," he said. "What if we send her back and something bad happens to her?"

Pavel gasped, "You like her, don't you?"

"She's nice and polite," Hikaru started, before Pavel shook his head.

"No, I mean.. you like her, like her. The "you wanna get down and dirty with her and have little Asian, ginger babies with her" like her, " he grinned.

Hikaru glared at him and Pavel shrugged, "What? I think that's cool that you're attracted to someone. When was the last time you even had a girlfriend, let alone, gone on a date?"

"We are not having this conversation, kid. All I'm saying is, whatever she saw is either something that happened to her as she shifted into our timeline, or something that will happened to her," he said. "I don't want to send her back into a potential death trap."

Pavel sighed, "Yeah, I know," he mumbled, growing serious at the thought. "But admit it, she's hot!"

"The Fridge" Enterprise Station

McCoy stood by the stove, turning the pieces of chicken in the frying pan, while Pike and Scotty moved around him. Tonight they were on cooking duty, and McCoy had full control over the menu. After the adventure he and the others had that morning, a little comfort food wouldn't hurt to boost their spirits.

"Should we put a plate out for the lass?" Scotty asked, as he washed the dishes from that morning.

McCoy nodded, "She should be up by the time dinner's ready," he said. "Should I send Sulu to get her?" he asked, looking over at Pike.

Chris looked up from the strainer, which held the fresh bunch of spinach, and shrugged. "I could get her," he said. "Besides you, I'm the only one with medical training and I can administer a hypo if she's feeling sick."

McCoy nodded slowly, side-eyeing his boss, as he drained the spinach and dumped it into the pot next to the pan.

"Hey Scotty," McCoy called from over his shoulder. "Can you get that sack of potatoes that Christine brought over?"

Scotty nodded, "Aye. And lets hope we have enough liquid courage to get through the night," he grinned, with a wink.

Once the Scot was out of the kitchen, McCoy set the fork down and turned to Pike. "Ever since Lavinia got here, you've been actin' weird," he said.

Chris looked over at him, "What?" he asked, frowning.

McCoy rolled his eyes, "You stare at her with this weird look on your face," he said, as Chris started chopping carrots.

"What I'm doing is no different from what everyone else is doing, McCoy," Chris said, as he began chopping the next carrot.

"You look at her as if you know her. Like you ain't seen her for years."

The knife in Chris' hand stilled, and he closed his eyes with a sigh. McCoy quickly turned the chicken in the pan, before setting the fork down on the counter.

"What's going on, boss?" he asked, his voice a little softer this time.

"You ever get that feeling that you've known someone, without really meeting them?" Chris asked, as the younger man shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess so."

Chris picked up the dishtowel and dried his hands, before turning to look at him. "I feel like I know her from somewhere. Or from another life," he shrugged. "I know it sounds crazy, but when I saw her, it's like this light flickered on in my head and the sense of knowing came to life in me."

McCoy nodded slowly, "This isn't your way of saying that you want to get with her too, is it?" he asked.

"What? Absolutely not!" Chris exclaimed, visibly insulted at such a thought.

The doctor chuckled, "Good, because Christine already snapped at three of our men for staring at her ass," he said, turning back to the pan.

Chris rolled his eyes, "I guess manners don't work with certain people, huh?" he asked, resuming his chopping.

McCoy snorted, "For Jim? No. But I'm sure Scotty's just lonely over his lady issues and Hikaru hasn't seen a attractive woman in years since we bunkered down here," he shrugged.

Chris smirked, "Attractive? McCoy are you're eyes wandering away from the lovely Christine Chapel?" he asked.

McCoy glared at him, "No way in hell. Sure, Lavinia is a pretty girl, but I ain't attracted to her. Somethin about her that makes me feel all weird if I think of one X-rated thought that includes her," he shuddered.

…..

Two hours later, Chris was leading a very drowsy Lavinia to a chair, as the others loaded their dishes with food. Everything smelled foreign to her, as a plate was placed in front of her.

"What.. what is all this?" she asked, with a frown.

McCoy set a glass of ice water in front of her, "Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and lots of vegetables," he said with a grin. "Eat up, little lady."

Lavinia stared at the plate with confusion, while the others ate. Everything looked unhealthy and messy, which was something Lavinia didn't like. Sure, the fork would be used to eat the mixed vegetables and potatoes. But the chicken required touching with hands, and Lavinia didn't eat with her hands. She picked up the fork and managed to pull a few pieces of the chicken off the bone and ate them slowly. The grease didn't help with her upset stomach and the spinach tasted like it was slathered with salt and butter.

After a few more bites, she set the fork down and picked up the glass of water. Afterwards, Lavinia asked to be excused and returned to her room and to bed.

…..

Reading Room. Second floor.

"So all you have to do, is type in this bar here your name," Jim said, as he leaned over Lavinia. "And then you click this button here, and a bunch of results will pop up," he said, pointing to the areas on the screen.

She nodded, "What then?" she asked, looking up at him.

He smiled, "You can write them down or hit that button there," he pointed to the picture of the printer. "All of the paper will come out here and you'll have a copy of your search."

"What if I can't find anything?" she asked, as Jim checked to make sure there was paper in the ancient machine.

He shrugged, "Then we'll look elsewhere," he said. "Don't panic if you can't find anything on the computer, Vina. After a while, records just disappear as the years go by."

"That's so sad," she said, looking at the computer screen. "All of those lives just forgotten as if they didn't exist."

Jim patted her shoulder, "Tell me about it," he sighed. "Well, I'm going to pick up my work from the boss man," he said, looking down at his watch. "I'll come check on you in an hour," he said, with a smile.

Once Jim left, Lavinia turned in her chair to face the screen. Like Jim showed her, she slowly typed out her name in the search bar. It took a few minutes, as she hit each key with one finger.

"Stupid machine! What ever happened to sending a messenger to fetch papers?" she muttered, as the computer whirred to life, searching the database for one Lavinia Rose Watson- Campbell.

While the computer searched, Lavinia stood up from the chair and walked around to the stuffed bookcases. She skimmed the shelves, touching the worn and batter spines of the novels. She spotted a few that she could remember; Shakespeare, Austen, Dickens; along with several other books that sounded interesting. Lavinia made a mental note to ask Jim if she could borrow few books when he came back, and returned to the computer.

She was surprised when several Lavinia Rose Watson-Campbells' appeared in the results. She clicked on the first result, but was denied access to it.

"I don't have a code! Just let me read it!" she cried, as she kept clicking on the link.

With a huff, she moved the blinking arrow to the next result and let out a sigh of relief when the page changed. But she was startled when a bunch of documents and articles popped up, and started reading them. But as she read, Lavinia saw that the photocopies of the documents were partially blacked out. Her date of birth for one, was marked out.

"Well that's silly," she muttered, as she scrolled down.

She continued reading and saw that the date of death had a thick black mark across the box, and Lavinia felt her heart stop.

"Don't panic, you're not dead. It's just an old document and it's nothing, " she told herself, despite the feeling of dread that filled her. "It's probably not even about you!"

Went from the first document and to the next, which was a photocopy of a newspaper clipping. Like the first document, the date published was marked out, along with a few details within the article. Lavinia scooted forward and squinted at the screen as she began to read:

Miss Lavinia Rose Watson- Campbell, 19, was embarking on her _ to New York, for her wedding. Her father, Charles Campbell of Campbell Industries in New York, and mother, Edith Ruth Watson- Campbell were due to arrive within a weeks time, for the summer wedding. The family was in Paris at the Campbell estate since the New Year.

Wedding.

Lavinia shook her head, "No," she whispered.

Miss Lavinia was _ and was _. When her fiancé was spotted leaving his home on the Upper East Side, he was visibly distraught over his fiancee's death. His assistant sent a statement, which said, "I am deeply saddened by the loss of my fiancée, Lavinia. I was looking forward to our upcoming wedding and spending our lives together, whether it'd be here in New York or wherever my bride wished. Though we had only met once, I loved her and I shall cherish the memories I have of her. Please find it in yourselves to let me grieve in peace, though I shall find it difficult to ever get over this great loss"

Lavinia closed her eyes and sighed, "No, no, no.." she chanted, pulling at her hair.

Her father was Charles Campbell of Campbell Industries, producing the finest automobiles for the rich. Her mother, Edith Ruth Watson-Campbell was from France and lived to see her daughter rise through the upper ranks of society. This article was definitely about her. She was engaged and dead. And somebody didn't want her to know how and why. Her heart pounded in her chest, as she reached out to scroll further down the page. She felt it stop entirely, when she saw the photograph.

Lavinia stood before the fireplace in a siting room, so large and grand, that had it been in color it would make for a lovely Christmas card. She wore a lovely gown of lace and silk, her hair pulled up into a bun. She did not look at the camera, but up at the man who stood at her side.

"Oh my god."

In the photograph, Lavinia stood arm-in-arm with one Christopher Pike.