A/N: I am really trying hard not to hate some of my characters right now. Hopefully you try not to hate them, too.

VIII. Boil.

If there was ever a time Skylar Pike wanted to strangle something between her angry fingers, this was it. Holding the end of the skant down as surreptitiously as humanly possible as she and the rest of the ground team exited the shuttle craft before the small welcome assembly on the Trill loading dock, Skylar gritted her teeth towards the humanoid senators and ambassadors that awaited them. There were five in total. She knew none of their names, and in this moment, she could care less. What felt like a wave of heat passed over her to the degree of which she began to perspire. This was exceptionally mind-boggling as she was hardly dressed in anything and the temperature of the hangar was relatively comfortable. Her uncomfortable stride had to be ignored; Jim, in the lead of the party, naturally, was now being acknowledged by cordial smiles. It was game time.

The Trill in the middle of the small line, a tall, slender female with long chocolate locks and an attractive face of experience offered a hand to Jim Kirk with a look of reservation.

"Captain," she greeted evenly as Jim instantly took her hand and gave it a shake, "On behalf of our people, Trill welcomes you and your crew."

"Thank you, Senator Dorraine," came the confident and slightly surprised voice of Jim as he turned to introduce his small team. All of them had been under the impression that the senator was male. Keeping a polite hand just behind the Senator's elbow, Jim extended his other hand out to each crewman as he introduced them. "My first officer, Lieutenant Commander Hikaru Sulu," he said pleasantly as Sulu gently tipped his head toward the Senator. "My chief engineer, Montgomery Scott," he continued, Scotty mimicking Sulu. "Two of my security chiefs, Lieutenants DeHaven and Torres."

"Two of them?" Dorraine inquired peacefully. "Were you expecting combat during our negotiations, Captain?"

Jim chuckled politely. "Hardly so, Senator. If there was ever a branch in Starfleet that never gets what is considered to be time off, it is the security personnel. I promised them some time off the ship to experience what your planet has to offer."

"Of course," Dorraine stated, though her tone was even. "Continue."

"Here we have my lovely yeoman, Skylar Pike," Jim said, giving Skylar a smile.

Skylar smiled politely at the Senator.

"And lastly, my chief medical officer, Doctor Leonard McCoy," Jim said, to which Leonard also politely smiled. Jim turned to Dorraine and continued, "Unfortunately, our good doctor has some very important medical work to continue with onboard, so his stay will be considerably short."

"By all means, he can go whenever he deems fit," Dorraine remarked offhandedly. "Really, Capatin, it is you we wish to converse with about this proposal from Starfleet." She began to walk with the other senators and ambassadors in tow. "Walk with me," she said over her shoulder toward the Enterprise crew.

Jim looked at his friends and motioned for them to follow. Scotty, DeHaven and Torres complied instantly while Skylar and Leonard gave each other cautious looks.

"Captain Kirk," Dorraine said loudly so that the captain could hear her voice despite the fact that he walked behind her and her flank of Trills, "Do you see how small this hangar is?"

"Quite so, but the size is appropriate to its purpose."

"Your Federation offers an expansion of it, among other things," Dorraine continued, "Should we decide to enter into negotiations."

"Perhaps it would be best to talk about this in a more confined area, Senator?" Jim offered.

The Senator stopped and motioned her flank away. When the others were out of earshot, Dorraine turned to the small group, eying Jim closely. "Now, Captain," she started in a harsh tone, "the last time your Federation comrades came here on a 'peaceful diplomatic mission,' it ended sourly with your people accusing mine of foul play. In fact, one of your soldiers was wounded and one of mine was to blame. There was a terrible miscommunication that completely embarrassed my planet and its people."

"I'm not familiar with the details, Senator, only that we were to come here and offer what the Federation is willing to give."

"To be completely honest with you, Captain, and before your crewmen, I am not thrilled that we should have to reestablish this contact. The Federation has a way of getting what it wants at the expensive of what is deems necessary, and when things were not completely to their terms as of last time, the diplomacy was lost. We were deemed to blame. I am very much on edge about this meeting, Captain Kirk, and I will not have a repeat of it."

Jim took a step towards Dorraine and replied in a comforting tone, "If you'd feel better without my crew around, all you have to do is ask. As aforementioned, you don't want any conflicts, and frankly, I don't either. I simply come to you with what my superiors have to offer you, and my word that nothing will go wrong. However, if there is any discomfort in any area of this mission, all I ask is that you make me aware of it and I will make sure that it is taken care of immediately. This is your planet and your people, and I am more than prepared to make sure that no one feels threatened by our presence on this limited stay."

Dorraine watched him closely before stating, "Tonight there will be a dinner. You and your team will be seated with us. It will be pleasant and entertaining. Tomorrow morning, depending on how the evening goes, you shall come to me for negotiations. You shall see what our people have to offer you in terms of building an outpost, and we shall discuss from there. At that time, I would request that all Federation personnel be beamed back aboard your ship and your ship ready to receive you at any moment, need be."

"I accept all of your terms, Senator, however, my yeoman will be needed to officially document everything."

Dorraine looked to Skylar. "Very well, Captain. Already you have begun to tread a thin line."

Jim politely smiled. "She's harmless, Senator." He gave Skylar a wink. "What will you have us do until dinner?"

"Despite my obvious distrust of your presence here, the other ambassadors and senators are anxious to get acquainted with you all. So, I will take my leave and I shall see you all tonight."

"Thank you, Senator," Jim replied as he watched Dorraine turn and quickly head toward the opposite side of the hangar.

"So what do we do now?" Leonard muttered toward Jim.

"Like the senator said, we make our rounds, and then we wait in our staterooms until dinner," Jim replied quietly. "Everyone needs to be smiling and act completely intrigued by everything."

"This mission completely sucks," Skylar muttered as she tipped her head in the direction of two of the approaching ambassadors. "Entertainment, one o'clock."

Jim shot her a look. "Perk up a bit, Pike, you're a yeoman, not a tactical officer. Be a little more … fake."

Skylar rolled her eyes and then proceeded to smile vacantly.

Jim chuckled. "That's my girl."

:::::

Amelia Takashi looked down at the computer console where the time flashed at her from the top right hand corner. Movement behind her alerted her as she quickly turned and watched Nyota and Chekov enter the PMP office, both looking weary. Exhaling slightly, Amelia turned back to the computer.

"How is he?" Nyota questioned, looking past Amelia at the curtains.

Amelia immediately pulled the curtains apart to expose an empty bed. "It took reinforcements but the security team escorted him to his room. He's active but very much in that trance of his. He knocked out three guards in the process."

Nyota bit her lower lip. "This is so crazy," she said breathlessly.

"Doctor McCoy had Hikaru contact me," Chekov said meekly. "He vanted to make sure you were steel okay."

Amelia held out her arms in an air of sarcasm. "Still alive, as you can see."

"He will be beaming aboard soon," Chekov continued.

"I don't know why he wants to be here," Amelia stated darkly.

"Because he loves you," Nyota said softly. She touched Amelia's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "We are all worried, Amelia. Isn't there some other way?"

Amelia looked at her and finally shook her head. Her lips were a thin line etched across her face.

"When are you going to confront him?" Nyota inquired.

"He was really riled up when the security came, and very violent," Amelia answered slowly. "I'm going to give him some time. Then I'll go."

"Thees is so unfair," Chekov stated in sadness.

"The choice was mine," Amelia snapped. "I'm not doing this to hurt anybody, but I just – I just need to be alone for a little bit, okay? I need some time to gather myself before I go …"

Nyota nodded and turned with Chekov in tow. As Chekov passed through the doorway, Nyota stopped and turned back to Amelia. "You're going to be fine."

Amelia looked at her.

"It's Commander Spock, somewhere in that Vulcan vessel," Nyota continued. "You're gonna be fine."

"He's not Commander Spock anymore, Nyota."

"He's only half Vulcan, you know." Nyota disappeared beyond the doorway.

:::::

Several elongated tables lined a large oval area where several Trills dressed in active wear stood at the center of the oval in preparation of the celebratory dining games in honor of their Federation guests. Senator Dorraine, as well as many other Trill officials, sat sporadically about the tables, each in their own conversations with each other and their symbiotic partners as well. Though the room was smaller than a typical game stadium, it was almost packed and the din was plentiful while dishes waited to be topped with food and the entertainers prepared for their show.

Jim took a seat next to Skylar, who sat beside two empty chairs. "Scotty and Bones are both heading back to the ship," he said quietly as he pulled the napkin from under the plate and stretched it across his lap.

"Why?"

"Leonard wanted to go back to the ship, naturally, and Scotty is more affected by this than he leads on; his excuse was that he was going to beam Bones up, but they have both been kind of whispery so I wouldn't be surprised if Scotty is going to be hanging around with Bones until … you know." He paused and looked at the empty chairs beyond Skylar. "Where are DeHaven and Torres?"

Skylar looked at him sharply. "For a captain, you sure as hell do not know what's going on with your crew."

"My mind is focused on Dorraine," Jim reminded her firmly, eying the senator from across the oval ring. "She wouldn't even sit with us. I have a lot of work to do on getting her to like us."

"DeHaven and Torres are chatting with some Trill females at another table," Skylar told him as she took her napkin and unfolded it. "They figured, since you offered them leave, that it was their right."

"That whole explanation was bullshit," Jim replied.

"Everything you've said lately has been bullshit," Skylar reminded him. "You are a bigger kiss ass than I've ever given you credit for."

"I'm not kissing ass, I'm using my flawless charm to accomplish this mission. The last captain that tried this obviously was not up to par on the charm."

Skylar looked at him with a sarcastic glimmer in her eyes. "I don't know how you pull me into this, Jim."

"Because I'm the captain," he answered her, matter-of-factly. "And you are my yeoman."

"I think you're starting to believe that."

"Regardless of your rank or fake rank, I am the captain."

"I could really mess this up for you, you know?" she said, placing her hand over his on the table.

Jim laughed, eying the gesture. "Skylar, you'd hate to be demoted for real, right?"

Skylar smiled at him. She then purposely removed her hand from off of his and allowed her napkin to be pushed off of the tabletop in the process so that it fell into his lap. "Oops," she said with mock concern.

"Really?" Jim asked, seeing past her false ruefulness as he took a hold of his glass of water.

"I'll just get that," Skylar said.

Just as Jim was about to pull the napkin off of his lap for her, Skylar's fingers clenched onto his thigh. Jim's eyes widened as he took a sip of the water, nearly spitting it out as her grip tightened. Carefully putting his water glass down, he looked at Skylar, blatantly questioning her yet trying to remain composed. "What are you doing?" he hissed, his eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen this interaction.

Skylar leaned in close to him. "Captain," she whispered, "If you tell me about your dream, I'll show you what happened in mine."

Jim turned to her, his lips barely parted as he recalled his sex dream. "You mean –?" He nearly gasped as her fingers clamped tighter around his leg.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Enough," he commanded through gritted, his hand clamping over hers. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"According to our dreams, you did."

Jim's eyes widened as he pried her hand off of his thigh. He quickly glanced toward the senator. Dorraine was immersed in a conversation with her partner. Suddenly, the lighting dimmed just as the performers began their show in the center of the oval. While everyone's attention began to be directed at the center of the room, Jim's eyes fell onto Skylar's as she stared intently at him. Jim had never seen her stare at anyone as she did now. His heart began to pump a little harder in his chest.

"How did you …?"

"It was sex dream, Jim," Skylar replied.

Jim turned his attention back toward the oval. "Enough, Lieutenant. We'll discuss this later."

"I look forward to it."

Jim slowly looked at Skylar again as she began to remove her jacket, revealing just the skant she was wearing. Jim raised an eyebrow at the gesture but returned his gaze down at the oval. Clasping his hand together under his chin, he leaned forward on his elbows to pretend to be intently watching the show. But his mind began to race even faster than his pulse. And that annoying male arousal feeling was beginning to arise again.

Suddenly, Jim felt a warm hand fall onto his thigh again, but not constricting grip followed. He felt Skylar's fingers gently massage the area that she had just dug her nails into. The feeling was pleasant and considerably inappropriate.

"I can't stop thinking about it," he heard her say.

Jim looked to her again. "What?"

Skylar fully turned to him in her seat, her hand remaining on his thigh, though it had moved slightly upward toward his groin. "In my dream, we were together like this."

"Watching a Trill dinner show? Trying desperately to get Senator Dorraine to trust us so that our jobs are not in jeopardy?" He leaned in close to her again. "You realize your hand is going to get us into a lot of trouble."

"I used more than my hand."

Jim sighed. "Okay, you win. You don't need to sabotage this mission."

"I'm not trying to sabotage anything, Jim."

"You said you could mess this up, and you are well on your way to doing so."

"I'm past that now," she told him, barely parting her lips as she leaned in closer to him so that he could feel her breath against his lips.

Jim clasped the hand that was on his thigh again. "Please, Sky, I'm begging you … why are you wigging out right now?"

A pause in her existence overtook her as Skylar became as vacant as her smiles earlier in the day. She blinked several times and then quickly removed her hand as though she had no idea how it had gotten there. "Jim," she said in sudden urgency, "I don't feel well."

"Go back to my stateroom and we'll talk there," he said. "Just lay down and I'll be there soon. Maybe I'll send you back to the ship as well."

Her bottom lip quivering, she took a deep breath and shook her head. "I can perform my duties to you," she said firmly.

"At this point, you can't," Jim reminded her curtly. "You're dismissed."

Skylar paused for a moment before quickly leaving. Jim watched her go. When she had disappeared beyond the doors leading into the room, he exhaled sharply. His heart pounded like a fist against the inside of his ribcage, yearning to be out of confinement. He placed his head into his hand.

:::::

Scotty, now dressed in his normal red tunic, walked into Dr. McCoy's office just as Bones was pulling his blue tunic over his head.

"I've just seen Amelia. She's getting ready to head to Mr. Spock's quarters," he reported seriously as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Leonard eyed him, his mind racing behind his intense gaze. "Any chance that I –?"

"No," Scotty cut him off curtly. "I would fully advise against it. She's in a right foul state, and rightly so. McCoy, you'll only make it worse."

Angered, Bones turned to him. "Dammit, Scotty, so I'm just supposed to sit here and wait while my girlfriend bangs that bastard?"

Scotty grabbed Bones by the shoulders. "Pull yourself together, man! For the love of God, she isn't doing this to spite you. Did you find her another way?"

Defeated, Bones shook his head.

"Then don't go around crying here."

"And I'm supposed to just be okay with it?"

"Hell no, Doctor. We'll wait until the lass enters the room and then we'll stake it out."

Bones eyed him closely. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this: I don't want Mr. Spock hurting Amelia any more than you do. She isn't my girlfriend but she sure as hell means a lot to me, as well. If anything sounds out of the ordinary, we'll intervene."

Bones shook his head. "I don't know if I can … listen, Scotty. I don't know …"

Scotty responded harshly, "They called in back up when escorting Spock because he knocked three guards unconscious. Buck up, Bones, and be prepared to defend your woman."

"She's made it very clear that she doesn't want defending," Bones remarked sourly. His expression softened slightly as he bowed his head. "Scotty … I've only said this one other time in my life, but … my heart is breaking. And it hurts so much more this time around."

Scotty waited a moment before he gave Leonard another squeeze to the shoulder. "If you cannot do it, then I will."

Bones lifted his head as he watched Scotty exit his office. His fingers went to his temples were he pressed into his flesh in an unforgiving manner before running his fingers back through his hair, his hand finally coming to rest against the coarse stubble that lined his chin. Leonard suddenly felt the alarming urge to cry. Glancing to the counter nearest him, he thundered out at a lone hypo and struck it across the room in a desperate yell.

Heaving in aguish, he gripped the edge of the counter and bowed his head in defeat. In a low growl, Bones demanded of himself, "Get it together, man!" before pushing off of the counter and stalking toward the door like a drunk man on the prowl. As the door hissed open, nearly mocking him with its alertness, Leonard gripped the outer doorway for support. He turned his head about the empty corridor, instantly settling on Scotty's back. It was eerily quiet in the corridor, especially in Sick Bay behind him – too quiet. Even the clacking of Scotty's boot heels seemed muffled as the beating of the pulse in Leonard's ears began to overcome the silence.

Where the fuck is everyone? Bones questioned to no one. The captain jumps ship and it's like a fucking ghost town.

Maybe they don't want to hear the shrill screams of your girlfriend getting raped.

Leonard's hand came to his forehead with a slap and smeared the perspiration down the front of his face. Hell suddenly seemed like a breeze, the temperature on the Enterprise had risen so suddenly … perhaps his temperature was the culprit. "Scotty!" he cried out, and he watched his friend instantly stop and turn on his heels.

His sight became tunneled before the earthquake seized him. At least, this is what Bones considered to be an earthquake; the Southern country doctor had never experienced an actual earthquake, but everything within him began to boil up from his core as the rippling outward effect caused his body to buckle and release its tension to the point that Doctor McCoy's knees began to shake underneath him. Through blurred vision, he watched Scotty run to him as Scotty began to grow taller than him and an explosion of pain gnawed at his knees. He saw Scotty bend down and take hold of his trembling body, Scotty's face in a state of shock.

"Nurse! Nurse!" Bones heard him cry out in his muffled Scottish accent.

Shock, shock …I'm fainting, Bones diagnosed. He refused to close his eyes as another pair of hands grabbed hold of him and a higher pitched voice clipped at his ears. Before everything turned black, Bones heard the word "hypo" from whom he assumed was Nurse Chapel.

Then, right on cue, Leonard McCoy passed out.

:::::

Amelia was sixteen years old when she starred in his first ballet recital. The picture Hikaru had tucked in between the pages of his old textbook was of her in her first recital. She remembered the day vividly; she had been extremely overwhelmed by her stepmother, who was trying her best to help Amelia prepare for the task at hand, which, to her stepmother, was a task. But Amelia knew that her dancing was anything but that. The extreme pressures of her stepmother began to weigh down heavily on her that day, so much to the point that she had rushed out in her ballet outfit to the place that she and Hikaru frequented when they wanted to escape from the confines of their equally demanding families.

The tree house, as shabby as it was and secured on the ground at the base of an old tree, was built out of old scraps of wood and sheet metal. Though dilapidated on the outside, it held up perfectly from the San Franciscan weather and the lock on the door was enough to keep everyone – save Amelia and Hikaru – out. They'd hidden their treasures there; but more importantly, they hid themselves in there. Hikaru kept his photography collection and Amelia kept her secrets. Despite the shared leisure to journey into another world whenever either or both of them chose to, Amelia was surprised to see Hikaru at the tree house. When she had entered, she saw Hikaru in his dress jacket and pants, obviously ready for her recital, wiping down one of his great-grandfather's cameras – his favorite of the few of them. A surprised Hikaru had turned to her.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be en route to the recital?"

Amelia ignored the question and took a seat on the floor, her eyes wide and very far away.

"You look beautiful," Hikaru had mentioned honestly as he and his camera sat down slowly beside her.

Amelia had looked at him, a single tear escaping her eye. "I can't do this," she had said simply.

"You're crazy, you know that?" Hikaru chuckled. "You let them get to you."

"First, it was my hair. Then, the ties around my wrists weren't tied in perfect bows." She had eyed him narrowly. "I only have two hands, you know."

Hikaru had rolled his eyes. "You forgot to mention that the straps of your ballet shoes are at different heights."

Amelia looked down at her toned calves. She began to flex and point her toes at a steady rhythm.

"If you ever thought of dancing for them, you're fucking crazy," he had said. "It would be a lie."

"They almost had me."

"Don't. Don't ever." He had paused and then continued to wipe down the camera in his hands with a cloth. "She doesn't need to be perfect."

Amelia chuckled absently. "She isn't. By any means. She's far from it."

"Is she angry?"

"This time." Amelia had looked at him as he continued to maintain his camera. "This time, she is."

Hikaru had casually glanced at her. "Then that's what she is, this time. Maybe next time, she'll be something different."

Amelia sighed and pulled her legs up to her chest, easily wrapping her slender arms around her knees. She had placed her chin on her arms. "Maybe next time she'll be dancing for something important."

"What's more important than dancing for you?"

"I can't always be angry, Hikaru. I can't always dance to show them that I'm never going to be who they want me to be. One day I want to dance for something epic – something happy, and beautiful. I want to be graceful."

"You're graceful … in a domineering, 'I'm going to kill you' sort of way. Besides, it's always entertaining to see the looks of question on their faces when the curtain closes and our families look as though they've just come out of a kung-fu flick."

Amelia laughed. "I can't ever tell from the stage." She had paused, glancing down at her shoes. "I feel so alive up there. So free. Like this was what I was meant to do."

Hikaru had placed his camera in his lap and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her against him. "Don't ever let them take that from you. No matter what, you dance for you. Always. The stage is your sky, your feet your wings. Just fly. Nothing can hurt you."

Amelia had sighed.

In the present, Amelia sighed heavily. Her heart pounded within her chest as she ran her fingers over the soft Vulcan blanket that sat neatly draped over Spock's bed. Her eyes flickered toward him. The Vulcan stood in the shadows as he had been when she'd first entered the room. It was dimly lit and completely silent except for the Vulcan's breathing. His chest expanded and shrunk in violent rhythm – something Amelia was all too familiar with. He had not moved from that spot in the corner, facing her, his fingers clenching the air within his palms. The two black pools on his face had watched her as she had come into the room, her mind in another time, and she had sat herself on the edge of his bed. She faced him.

"I'm never going to dance for anyone but myself," she whispered to him, though he made no acknowledgement of her words. Her bottom lip began to quiver. "But that's all I ever do," she continued into the darkness, staring at her hunter. "I told Hikaru once that I wanted to dance gracefully, beautifully, because of happiness. I told myself that when I had to quit, when I left for the Academy and Tarvaan. I didn't want to dance again if it had to be an angry defense mechanism because that's the dancer I'd left behind, on Earth. It was the middle finger to my parents, to the precious little girl they thought I'd become – conformed, obedient and safe."

Spock said nothing.

Amelia gripped the blanket between her fingers. "I danced for the Vulcan council once. You were there. I spent a semester in the science program. I had also told Hikaru that I wanted to dance for something epic, something important. But that dance was just another way to show you all that I could never conform to your systematic ways of dance; to the conformity of silence in disturbing the status quo. Your forms of dances are so common, so classical. There's no touch, no passion or risk – it's all so safe. And despite my inner weariness, I couldn't help myself then. I fought against you. I never got my moment of beautiful, graceful dancing out of just being me. Me just being happy."

Spock still said nothing. He remained in his eerie trance-like state, only his breathing and the twitching of his fingers as they skimmed over the flesh of his palms offering any signs of life within his body. The haunting glimmer of his eyes was locked onto Amelia.

Tears began to slip down her cheeks as Amelia took a deep breath. "I don't know who you are, but I can guarantee that you won't know me either. It won't be me, Spock. I love Leonard. My heart belongs to him solely, and I can't be here for you."

Spock's hands suddenly stopped moving. There was a pause in him before he took a step toward her.

"I'm not graceful," she whispered as both of her hands locked around the blanket she sat on, her eyes glued to the Vulcan that began to approach her from beyond the shadows. "I'm not happy."

Spock's eyes narrowed down at her.

"I'm not m –" Amelia began to whisper before she was cut off by the violent swing of Spock's hand as he struck her across the face.

Everything went black.