I do not own Star Trek 2009, Supernatural, NCIS, NCIS: LA or Firefly.

I don't have an excuse for dropping off the face of the earth. It just happens and all I can say is I'm really sorry that I left you all hanging. Wrist strain from over-typing at my job didn't help things any.

However, you may thank the persistent mudkipz for continually poking me until my guiltily hibernating muse groggily returned to the land of the semi-coherent.

To the excellent and admirable mudkipz: You are an unsung hero. If I do disappear again, feel free to a) wash your hands of me in sheer exasperation or b) keep on poking. I would prefer option b) myself.

Washington

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" Abby blurted as she hurtled through the Washington's corridors with rejuvenated enthusiasm. "I figured it out!"

Gibbs glanced up from his weekly personnel reports, halting his hydroponics officer with a raised hand as the vibrant engineering chief waved a PADD excitedly, oblivious to her abrupt interruption. "Figured what out, Abs?" he asked calmly.

"The sulphur," she whispered conspiratorially. Gibbs felt his eyebrows shoot up in spite of himself. Clearly she had put the past five days docked in relative peace at Starbase 5 to what she considered good use.

"I thought we decided that wasn't important, Abby."

Abby shot him a disappointed glance. "Gibbs, a mystery is always important. Sometimes though, you have to let the mystery open itself up to you instead of forcing yourself on it." She flourished her hands dramatically and Gibbs let himself chuckle inside at her phrasing as the rather young hydroponics officer flushed red.

"All right, lay it on me."

Abby shook her head. "It needs proper presentation. In the ready room."

"Abs."

"Seriously, Gibbs. It's complicated. I know, I know, you'll barely manage to contain your boundless enthusiasm but the visual aids are important. You have to be there. Now." She practically danced on the spot and Gibbs absently noted she was (again) wearing her non-regulation, steel-toed platform punk boots.

"Get everyone together then and give me five minutes to finish up here," he decided, returning his attention to the report at hand.

When Gibbs made it up to the ready room, the rest of the senior bridge crew was already waiting for him. In his usual brisk manner, he dove into the heart of the room, ignoring the captain's chair to stand in front of the screen. "Talk to me, Abs."

Abby took a deep breath. "First, I must ask you all to suspend your disbelief and let me get through this without interruption."

"Abby, if this is part of that whacked morals-are-directly-related-to-facial-hair conspiracy, I have piloting simulations to run and that cute little docking officer to console about the end of the universe, if you know what I mean," Tony said in a world-weary tone of voice and a leering eyebrow waggle.

"That theory is totally and completely valid and I am going to publish on it as soon as I get enough evidence, but no," Abby said severely. "This has nothing to do with that. And your docking officer really isn't interested. She likes Orions."

Tony sputtered as Abby spun on one foot and cleared her throat. "Okay. Here goes." She clicked her little remote and the screen sprang to life.

"Demons: A Scientific Proposal?" McGee read in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Hey! What did I say about questions?" Abby snipped, already flicking through to the next slide. "It's not actually demons. The title just looks cooler on the screen."

"Seriously captain?" Dinozzo complained.

Gibbs was examining the slide on the wall with his usual equanimity. "Keep going, Abs."

The quirky engineer shot the rest of the room a quelling, superior glance and started talking at the speed of light. "There's a pattern in galactic history of unexplained events." Serious this time, she held up a hand when Dinozzo looked to jump in again. "Fact one: these events occurred. Fact two: a significant number of them involved a strange residue, our friend the ancient sulphur. Fact three: all of the events involved unsolved disappearances."

Abby glanced around the room and was satisfied to see everyone sitting forward in their seats. "Now, this is where the conjecture comes in. The theory has a lot of holes. I still don't have enough information but the pattern holds true. There is an entity or force in the universe capable of transporting people, ships and in one notable event, a whole scientific laboratory into thin air. Sometimes the people return, the ships and the buildings do not. Returnee witnesses cannot provide any pertinent information nor can they even remotely explain what happened as," she paused on one particularly disturbing picture of a flayed corpse, "43% of returnees were stark raving mad and the other 57% were dead on arrival. Also, the entity has left behind sulphur at 64% of the sites that we know of. I'm of the belief that it wasn't picked up at the other sites simply because they weren't looking for it."

"And you think this is what happened to Enterprise," Gibbs finished. Abby flashed through a series of graphs and short paragraphs further detailing the history of their phenomenon.

"I'm afraid so," she said more quietly. "Each of the individuals abducted wielded great power in some shape or form. You can't deny that Enterprise has gained a reputation for fixing bad situations. Also," Abby nodded towards Dr. Mallard, "Ducky has come up with a rather scary set of conclusions."

The esteemed doctor nodded. "It was a rather unusual request but Abigail managed to scrape up enough data for me to put together a profile. Gibbs, if this is indeed an individual instead of a mindless force of nature, it is a disturbed one. It thrives on snatching those who represent hope and in many cases, mangles those symbols until there is nothing left of them. Also, given the fact that these incidents span centuries, you are either dealing with a highly controlled entity or a strict heredity regime hell-bent on producing an individual capable of carrying on their as of yet unknown agenda."

"Still think I'm nuts?" Abby asked snippily, breaking the tension in the room.

Tony was the first one to shake his head. "Abby, only you could make demons sound rational. McGeek, what do you think?"

McGee was busy tapping away at his PADD. "I think it's better than anything else we've come up with, even if it's a fringe theory. No offense, Abby."

Abby practically bounced on one foot. "Well of course not. I know it's a whacked theory. But it's a good whacked theory."

"All right, so what can this do for us, Abs?" the captain asked, bringing the conversation back on topic.

Abby shrugged with beautiful indifference. "How should I know? I just bring you the information."

"Abby," Gibbs growled.

"Okay, fine. I'm not entirely sure if it'll work but I think the key lies in the original anomaly that Sam Winchester was babysitting before he and the Impala ceased to exist. Sam knows the most about it (except maybe Jim and Dean and Spock, since they went through it). Also, he has the original readings. Theoretically, it should be possible to follow the constant through space and time like a path. The only catch is I don't exactly know if it's a one-way street or not. Buuuuut," she drawled with more hope, "there shouldn't be any reason why we can't follow ancient sulphur back to its' evil origins. It's not like it's a common dilithium trail or anything."

The whole room was dead silent, considering the implications.

"I see no other choice. We must contact the Impala, dangle enough bait in front of whatever this entity is and capture it," Ziva concluded with admirable brevity.

"Oh, trust the former Mossad agent to come up with the unhealthy option," Tony muttered but there was no real heat to his tone.

"I also know how to get in contact with the Impala," Ziva continued. "However, they are in a rather awkward position at the moment."

Impala

"What do you mean, we have to give them a dilithium crystal?" Sam demanded sharply, knuckles whitening on his brother's captain chair.

Kaylee didn't even blink. "I'm telling you, we need a bribe and Serenity's parts are useless in this sort of transaction."

"Well goody for you but Starfleet will have my ass on a platter if I run around handing out key bits of military technology!"

Kaylee arched an eyebrow. "Starfleet is on the ropes. They won't miss one measly little crystal."

"And my brother?" Sam squawked. "Oh, hey, sorry Dean, I gutted your ship to pay some asshat in the backwoods of freakin' nowhere so we'd have somewhere to park for twenty four hours!"

Kaylee did grimace a little at the thought of bumping into an irate Dean Winchester. "Well, it's the dilithium crystal or half our cargo plus your sensor array. They'd really prefer the crystal."

Sam glowered at the unrepentant engineer, knowing that she was right. They needed somewhere to hide before an enterprising group of pirates descended en masse on the Impala and ripped her apart for scrap. Hell, Serenity was already drawing too much attention to herself as it was as her crew covered for one of the more recognizable Miranda-class ships in Federation space.

"Commander?" Jo broke into Sam's thoughts as Kaylee helpfully ignored the decision he would have to make, rather guiltily glad Mal and Serenity weren't in Sam's boots. "We have incoming encrypted traffic from Washington. Text only."

Sam scowled and pulled it up. Wishful thinking said it would be good news. Reality dictated it would be bad. "Huh," Sam mused after reading the message from Ziva. It was neither good nor bad. It was a starting point. A tangible lead.

"Jo, get Ash up here. We're returning to where Enterprise vanished. I need the sensor nets recalibrated. Kaylee, tell Mal thanks a bunch but we have a new lead," Sam ordered crisply.

"Whoa, whoa there, Starfleet. Where you go, we go." Mal gently nudged Kaylee out of the screen and nailed Sam with a hard glance. "We might have picked up warp drive but we still haven't gotten the capital or permits necessary for armament. You, on the other hand, can knock the stuffing out of just about anyone. You're our bodyguard until further notice, since we saved your ass."

Sam eyed the trader captain thoughtfully. "Fair enough. And your sensors are pretty damn good." Mal shrugged. "Fine. This is what Ziva sent me. Make of it what you will, but if there's even a hint of that sulphur near the anomaly, we're going to find it."

Five days later, both ships were nosing around the sphere of space containing the planet and its ship-grabbing enigma. "Huh," Mal commented. "That squiggly line of energy is new. Kaylee, you ever seen anything like it?" The engineer shrugged. "River? Nada? Impala, we've officially got squat."

"Keep looking. You've only been here five minutes," Sam scowled. "Ash, do the scans from last time match up? Anything new?"

"Zilch, Commander. Same uninformative anomaly as before." Ash drummed restless fingers on his console. "Scanning for Abby's freaky sulphur now." There was a tense silence on the Impala while the curious Serenity nosed around the anomaly.

"Don't get too close," Sam warned needlessly.

"Stop worrying, mother hen," Zoe chided when it became clear Mal was too busy helping Kaylee abuse their equipment into compliance.

"Sam, I've got something. I've really got something," Ash interrupted, his voice humming with tension, almost afraid of hoping. "We didn't pick it up last time because why the hell would we be looking for plain sulphur? And we're in a low traffic area of space so we can still extrapolate the trail."

"We have something to chase. Ash, I want us following that trail as fast as possible."

"On it."

Unknown location

"Well, well, well," an amused voice drawled. "Took them long enough."

"Are you going to give the Enterprise back?" Lucifer asked, idly spinning a razor-sharp vibroblade around his fingers.

"I'm not sure yet."

"As long as I get dearest Sammy."

"Patience, my pet, is a virtue. We can afford to let the Enterprise bumble around for a bit. Who knows, they might have a little history collision. Nothing new has popped up in the textbooks as of late, but it is early. Enterprise is too explosive to not get into trouble. I'd love to see what sort of havoc they'd wreak if they bumped into some very angry Romulans. They've…civilized so, since those times. I wonder how many men the famed Captain Kirk would lose? Would the decks of the Enterprise run red with her heart's blood? If Enterprise does show up in history, we can go back and watch. Perhaps bring your beloved Samuel with us, just so he can squirm like a helpless worm."

The thought made both beings chuckle in anticipation.

Secure Starfleet location

Gabriel tipped back in his cushioned seat. "You want me to what now?" he drawled, propping his boots insolently on the polished desk.

"Fix this whole…issue."

"You do understand I'm just one measly little spy."

"Precisely. If you do not handle this with utmost delicacy, tact and success, you are easily eliminated. Which would be lamentable in light of your effective skill set."

"And you don't give a damn about how I do it or what the long-term ramifications might be?"

"We do not. Those can be handled in the long-term. You have a deadline of three weeks."

Gabriel's eyebrows hit his hairline. "Pardon? Three weeks? Months would be better. Hell, months would be feasible! Weeks is asking for a miracle!"

"After three weeks, the economic damage becomes permanent."

Gabriel's boots hit the floor. "I'll need the Los Angeles and the sort of ambiguous paperwork that lets their twitchy consciences lie easy. They're the only crew with the right background and understanding of how this sort of thing works. Enterprise would just stuff me in the nearest photon torpedo and have done with it."

"Enterprise is still black and white, then. Unfortunate. They're excellent at smashing through barriers. Too bad they can't see the world through our eyes. Los Angeles is yours. Be warned: if you tell them too much, we'll expect you to…handle them. Permanently."

"I'll see what I can do. You might be the only one satisfied with the outcome, though."

"As long as you get the Federation on its feet again."

"Understood."

Enterprise

"How long can we lurk around here before the Romulans come looking?" Kirk asked the bridge at large, not really expecting an answer.

"It depends on where they sent that message, captain," Uhura offered. "It could be as short as a day, it could be as long as three weeks."

"Right. Chekov, where's the closest empty sector of space?"

Chekov had already been brainstorming and popped up a chart on the closest screen. "Approximately here, keptin. Unfortunately it is not a wery big sector. There is a lot of traffic moving through the area ve are in. If ve really vanted to get out of de vay, ve vould have to move at least one week's journey at varp 6 in this direction."

"You're right, that is really out of the way," Kirk mused. "Too far to get in immediate contact if anyone from our time shows up or the anomaly fluctuates noticeably."

"We could set up a sensor relay using buoys," Sulu suggested.

Kirk wrinkled his nose in dislike. "And leave a breadcrumb trail straight to us."

Sulu shrugged. The captain wasn't shooting him down, just raising a valid point.

"Scotty?"

"Aye, capt'n?"

"How long is that cloak good for?"

"Twelve hours would be pushing her, capt'n."

Kirk scowled at the starry viewscreen. He didn't like sitting on his hands but even he had to admit, there was nothing regarding the anomaly on their end. It was like being transported down to a planet. No matter how hard you looked, once you were on the planet, there was no way of finding your way back up unless you fully understood transporter technology so you could build a new transporter.

"Let's go lurk in Chekov's little pocket of space as long as we can. Hopefully the Impala's coming up with something because we've got jack-squat. Warp 5, Mr. Sulu. No point in leaving a heavier trail than we have to and making some overly curious Romulan nosy." As Sulu laid in the course, Kirk spun in his chair. "Spock, you've been quiet."

The Vulcan turned away from his station, a curious sort of tension in his shoulders. "I have nothing to contribute, Captain." That might bother Spock, but not enough to shut him up. Spock knew his own admittedly far-reaching boundaries and this situation qualified as a boundary to be scholastically conquered. No, it was something else.

"Spock?"

"Captain, this is a time of extreme delicacy," the Vulcan began with highly uncharacteristic hesitancy. "Commander Winchester has done a very commendable job of limiting his interactions with the Vulcan people."

"But you're afraid that if we're even spotted, we'll have a catastrophic effect on history."

"Captain, I know we will. The struggle between Vulcans and Romulans strayed across a very thin margin and while I cannot condone the actions of the Romulan Empire in our own time, the fact remains that they are an integral part of our society. If we change that, if we destroy enough Romulan ships that the Vulcans manage to keep the Romulan people under control, there may not be a Federation as we know it to return to."

"Hell, we might even cease to exist."

Spock nodded in recognition of his captain's insight. "Indeed. We may never have been born."

"What about the parallel theory?"

"Captain, should we hang the existence of the entire Federation on one theory?"

"And that's why you want us to stay near the anomaly." Kirk rubbed his hands together in contemplation. A thought occurred to him and he eyed his first officer carefully. "Or, if we were really concerned about time, we should just cease to exist ourselves. That would be the safest option."

To his relief, Spock shook his head immediately. "That would not resolve the problem. The Federation is not stable enough for us to completely give up on life. If it existed as a utopia, perhaps our sacrifice would be warranted. But it does not and we should not give up so easily."

Kirk quirked a small grin. "Why Spock, that sounds positively human of you."

Spock's eyebrows arched up visibly. "Captain, there is no need to insult me. My conclusion is highly logical. Shall I expound on it for you?"

"No thanks, Spock. I'll puzzle it out on my own on the way to our destination. It'll make a good brain exercise." He was careful to swallow his smile until he was positive Spock had turned around. No doubt Spock had a very valid argument. Still, Kirk couldn't help noticing that these days, the Vulcan first officer's logic had grown exceedingly flexible when it came to explaining his captain's often illogical adherence to optimistic endings.

Los Angeles

"You're commandeering my ship?" Callen demanded.

Gabriel waggled the little piece of paper. "Look, it's even got the Starfleet stamp of approval. I'd have taken the Enterprise but she's MIA. Careless of Jimmy, really."

Callen exchanged glances with Sam behind the SIO. He nodded and slipped off the bridge. Hetty would scare the snot out of this pretentious jackass and they'd go back to their self-assigned mission of lurking around Admiral Pike's hidden starbase and helping near-by planets run off the ever-populous pirates who had started popping up with alarming regularity now that Starfleet was in shambles.

"Ah-ah-ah," Gabriel waved his hands artfully when the diminutive science officer appeared, her hulking first officer on her heels. "Even the formidable Commander Lang won't be able to get you out of this one, G-man."

Callen clenched his jaw and wondered how the smarmy spy still had all his teeth after meeting the notoriously short-tempered Captain Winchester. "It's Captain Callen and you will show this crew the proper respect."

"Or what?" Gabriel demanded airily.

"Paper or no paper, you can spend several weeks floating around in a life pod before we "accidentally" stumble over you again."

"Ooh, that's dark, Captain."

"Supervisory Intelligence Officer Gabriel," Hetty practically snarled, in a very poor mood ever since she'd lost her weekly chess move updates with Admiral Pike when Starfleet collapsed, "you are out. Of. Line."

Gabriel didn't pale, exactly, but he nodded shortly. Messing with Callen was one thing – the worst havoc the former black-ops officer could wreak would end in death. Digging oneself out from under the pile of hell-shit Hetty could bury one under was something else entirely.

"Actually," the SIO began more soberly, "I don't think I would have picked Enterprise even if I could have. This requires a more…balanced view of the world."

"Shades of grey, in other words," Callen smiled humourlessly.

"In other words."

"We don't do that anymore," Sam interrupted, the big first officer planting his feet solidly on the deck in a confrontational stance.

"You will when you hear about the end game," Gabriel reassured him. "We, ladies and gentlemen, are going to save the Federation and leave Enterprise retrieval to the well-motivated Impala while the Washington backs them up with orders to split off and hunt down Lucifer should new evidence come to light."

Callen leaned back in his chair, the whole crew surveying the Intelligence Office's dog with wariness. "What exactly is the catch in 'saving the world?'"

Gabriel's smile spread to cherubic proportions. "Why, we're going to kill the Duke of Austria. In a manner of speaking."

Hetty scowled. "World War I. The powder-keg theory. Your masters have ordered us to start a war. In return for losing countless planets and lives, the new threat will galvanize everyone into rallying around the Federation."

Gabriel whistled in admiration. "Sharp as a tack, Commander Lang. Those were the orders. But if it makes you feel better," the twinkle in his eye intensified, "as I said those were my original orders. I managed to wrangle something a little more…flexible out of my superiors. We can manage something that won't offend your freshly scrubbed sensibilities."

Callen had to admit that the SIO was right. This state of affairs couldn't last forever. The Federation was disintegrating into a set of warring planet-states, all too concerned about each other to see the circling wolves.

"What did you have in mind?"

P.S. I can't promise regular updates like before - wrist strain, ya know, dire warnings about carpal tunnel, etc, etc - but I will do my best not to leave you dangling like that again. Apologies!