Standing under the shower Deanna focussed her mind on the sensation of water stroking her skin. It felt almost the same as onboard the Enterprise. Almost, but not quite. Somehow she was stranded on Earth, over four-hundred years in the past. At this moment Betazed's society had just begun seriously exploring their own system and started forming alliances within their sector and the influence of the Houses would be remarkable great.

But she wasn't on Betazed; she was on Earth. Her empathic senses constantly assaulted by the relative rough minds of humans in this time. In the hospital and city it had been the worst; thousands of minds with unruled, unchecked emotions, attacking her senses without mercy.

A sudden jolt of terror from the man in the other room made her jump slightly and she almost slipped, finding her balance just in time. The man's mind was incredibly organized and a welcome beacon in a sea of primitive -at least in her eyes- minds. She could sense his questions burning within him, as well as a touch of nervousness and concern. His mind felt unlike any she had ever encountered. She knew he wasn't a true doctor, but yet at the same time she could also tell he knew exactly what he was doing.

She could tell he knew that she wasn't human, or at least very different from other humans. Never had she felt so out of place as she did now. She wanted to go home, back to the familiar minds of the Enterprise, back to her friends and her job. How could this have happened? A temporal distortion, Q? Without thinking she snapped her fingers, not denying the silliness of the act, but nonetheless hoping it would work.

It didn't

Out of frustration Troi growled and shut the water down. Stepping out of the shower-cell she picked up a towel and began to dry herself. When she was done she realized she had nothing wear. Her dress had been shredded and even when unscathed wasn't considered decent fo humans. Scanning the room her eyes eventually fell on a warm-looking bathrobe and she decided to slip in it. Not knowing what to do with her hair, she left it piled up on top of her head, wrapped in a white towel and headed for the main room.

She was about to enter when she heard his voice. "Sydney, I need you help. Has The Centre ever successfully managed to manipulate a woman?" Silence fell for a moment and Deanna was just about to step inside when he spoke again. "I'm sure you remember her, if you've ever seen her. Intense dark eyes, long dark hair and a pale skin. I think she's around her thirties." Deanna couldn't help but smile; around her thirties. After another short silence it was again Jarod's voice she heard. "Her x-rays and brainscans are unlike anything I've ever seen, she--" This wasn't good, he was going to tell someone else about her. She couldn't allow it.

Jarod turned round as he heard the door open, seemingly calm. The empath however could tell her entrance had startled him. "I have to call you back Sydney, say hi to Miss Parker and tell her I'm sorry I missed her yesterday." She watched him silently as he spoke into a little black thing he held near his ear. As he put the communications device down on the table she took another step in his direction. "I couldn't find anything else to wear," she said, gesturing at the robe she was wearing, "I hope you don't mind."

He studied her for a few seconds in silence and she could almost feel his analytical mind working. Almost like Data, only he was obviously human. "No, of course not." He indicated at a chair and turned to the kitchen. Deanna listened carefully to what he was doing and tried to create a background story for herself. This situation fell, after all, under the Prime Directive.

Jarod returned with a steaming bowl of soup and put it down in front of her, handing her a spoon. With the aroma of the soup reaching her nostrils Troi suddenly realized how starved she was. She hadn't eaten since she'd left Betazed, having a dinner date with Will when she returned to the Enterprise. She began to eat happily, noting it was tomato-soup; not her favourite kind but quite tasty. The doctor sat down across from her and seemed quite content with watching her eat. It wasn't long before he started asking questions though.

"Are you feeling all right? Any nausea or dizziness?" Deanna answered negative and pointedly returned her attention to her soup. "Are you sure? Because your brainscans were extremely unusual."

I bet, Troi thought to herself..how was she ever going to explain? Perhaps he would buy the story if she told him she was genetically manipulated. She was quite certain he would because that had been the first thing he had thought off, but being Betazoid lying went against her principles. "It runs in the family" she replied eventually, without having to lie.

Again he studied her carefully, not quite believing what she said. "I'm Jarod" he told her, and held out his hand. Fighting the urge to sigh relieved Deanna smiled and shook Jarod's hand.

"Deanna Troi."

"Good, you remember your name. Do you know where you are?"

"Earth," Deanna replied automatically. Then, seeing his quizzical expression, she tried to be more specific. If she recalled correctly there were only a few countries in this period of Terran history in which Standard was the main language, the biggest of which being the Western Continent, and so that was what she answered.

Jarod's suspicion of her grew, but he held his question back for now. "What's the date?" he continued.

"I don't know."

"The year?" Again Troi shook her head and hoped he would tell her, which he did. "March twenty-first, two thousand." She managed to keep her shock to herself, but only barely. 2000?! That meant she'd travelled 377 years into the past. "I think we'd better get you home, where are you from?" He asked as if it were but an afterthought.

Very sneaky Jarod. Of course he had no idea he was dealing with an accomplished psychologist, as well as an empath. "Not from around here." She answered truthfully.

"I thought as much. The language I heard earlier was unlike any I've ever heard before. I've never seen such black eyes either." Damned, he was determined to find out who she was! Protocol dictated she should get away from him as soon as she could, but without knowing where to find her shuttle and without clothing or means to pay, she really couldn't go anywhere.

So, instead of running scrambling for an answer she merely gazed into his hazel eyes and yawned.

Chapter Two

Jarod threw the sleeping form on his bed one last glance; this Deanna Troi had an air of mystery around her and not just because he knew nothing about her. To him she seemed as if she'd run from a fairy tale; her face in a relaxed and serene expression; frames by masses of black curls. Only in fairy tales the princesses were always blond and blue eyed.

He shook his head and returned to the table on which the phone stood. Quickly he dialled Sidney's number, anxious to see if he could tell him anything about the woman's origin. He wasn't sure if she knew she hadn't fooled him with her evasive answers, she seemed the kind of person who could give you very little information and yet make it seem as if she shared her life with you.

"Sydney."

"Jarod." The man on the other end of the line greeted in return. "What did you mean earlier?"

"I meant what I said" he returned coolly; that Sydney couldn't fathom what he'd meant wasn't a good sign...at all "a female, about five foot three, coal black eyes and hair, pale skin, around her thirties, she calls herself Deanna Troi and has the most unusual brainscans and x-rays I've ever seen." He listened quietly and heard his former mentor tick in the information on his keyboard. He resisted the urge to drum with his fingers on the table and glanced over to the room in which his latest hobby stood; a $20.000 drumstel.

"No matches, Jarod are you sure the scans were correct."

"Of course I'm sure." Without allowing Sydney to respond he broke off the connection; he may consider the older man as his friend, he did entirely trust him yet. It was possible that The Centre had erased all traces of her existence if she had managed to disappear, but why wasn't she being hunted like himself?

On the other hand he realized he really wasn't the one to expect any answers; he never gave them himself. Putting the mysterious woman out of his mind Jarod turned on his computer and started to brows through the news sites, looking for someone he might be able to help.