Author's Note: This chapter comes with a "Jim does not deal well without Bones" warning. Things may snowball from here, and I promise you'll see McCoy soon in a chapter.

Thanks for following along. I appreciate your trust and patience - and reviews! DLB48, thank you for your incredible beta assistance.

Sheets heaped in a tangle on the floor beside him, Jim lay wide awake and stared at the celing, just as he had for more than two hours. Reverberations of Prince Lequa's stinging allegation swirled through his mind, mixed with visions of people and events that were at one time long gone. A wry grin crossed his lips. He was at least fortunate that Bones had not heard that part of the conversation. Who knew how the doctor would have reacted - or what he would have confronted Jim about this time. Crossing his arms behind his head, Jim breathed a lonely sigh into the comfort of his bed. The prince's disturbing allegation, McCoy's insistent nagging, and Spock's absence were adding up to more than he could bear.

Swallowing deeply, Jim made a difficult observation about himself. He missed Spock's company so much he almost begged him to stay longer. Distracted and worried, Jim had assumed he'd be no match for the Vulcan genius. Their game had been quite enjoyable and surprisingly their camaraderie as strong as ever. Even so, despite Spock staying later than Jim expected, he knew it still wasn't enough. Jim tucked away in his memory every minute he'd spent with his first officer.

But every memory of those precious minutes wouldn't compensate for the overwhelming sense of abandonment he had experienced of late. Jim blinked away the emotion behind his eyes as Bones came to his mind. Desperately, he wracked his brain for some distraction from his turmoil.

Lonely and cold in his boxers, bed stripped bare of all blankets and comforts, Jim turned on his side, still thinking. Most nights he lay awake sweating or awoke lathered in his perspiration but tonight he had overcompensated. Since sleep eluded him, he might as well be productive. He hoisted himself out of bed and grabbed a black t-shirt and casual black pants, opting to dress as if he wasn't returning to bed. He paced by the door in his bare feet, hands in his pockets and revisiting an idea. A worn image pictured on the surface of the missile baffled everyone, but was distrubingly incomplete without that mysterious missing piece.

Insomnia did have its benefits, he thought ruefully, as he considered that the image could be one of the indigenous creatures of this planet. The snake he held after the banquet had truly been impressive. If the Re'an, the contemporary inhabitants, honored these enigmatic creatures, it was certainly possible that previous inhabitants did so also. It also wouldn't be the first time images of that sort were discovered on ancient weapons.

Spending much of his time with Uhura this week gave him a fresh appreciation for aspects of exploration he'd not experienced for himself until now. Giving himself a mental kick, Jim began forumulating a plan of action. First he wanted to further investigate those indigenous creatures, studying the body of knowledge on how they moved and how wearing them fostered communication. Next, he would compare the results with the other teams' research. Maybe then he would be able to deduce what the image was even without that missing piece. Not knowing what that image aggravated Jim. He would toss the idea out to his chief archaeologist tomorrow, but for tonight, he wanted a head start.

He started to make his way towards his desk, but halted in his tracks.

This was so far from his usual course of study, it astonished even him. What was he doing? Did he really want to know more about creatures with mysterious gifts, especially the snake? He had no idea what this study would reveal, no insight into the questions his crew would ask him if they knew why the snake coiled around his arm. If Uhura placed that particular piece of information in her notes...Jim inhaled sharply. He hadn't even asked her to refrain from doing so. How could he have forgotten?

Maybe his uneasiness was overrated. It perhaps didn't mean anything and he was chasing after...after a worthless idea. But if he wasn't discreet about his research and if Bones found out, who knew what can of worms he would open for himself.

Jim ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with his recent penchant for indecision. He headed towards his desk anyways. It didn't matter if he was trying to sleep - he tossed and turned in his mind, as well.

He picked up his PADD, clearing his mind as best he could. Before clicking on Uhura's most recent file, Jim saw a notification of his own from Yeoman Rand, timestamped five minutes earlier.

Jim frowned. Rand shouldn't be working now, but it was completely possible that she had informed him she was working the gamma shift. Was he so exhausted he could not even remember such a small detail? Sighing again, he opened his messages, finding only part of the information from the archaeology department. Another piece had been unearthed, but not the one they'd wanted to match the missile Dr. Marcus was researching. Still, Jim was intrigued but at the same time perplexed because there was no holo attached to themessage. He bit his lip, tapping his fingers on the PADD. If Rand was awake, she could help him.

He reached for his comm.

"Kirk to Rand." Jim rubbed his eyes. He hardly bothered his yeoman at such late - or, rather, early - hours. It was rare, and although he could very well take of these things himself, he was lonely.

Lonely? He frowned at his pathetic admittance. Despite the late hour, it was her duty so he commed her guilt-free. As before, his desire was to be productive, not languishing in his past.

"Yes, sir," she said after a brief moment passed, breaking out in a fit of coughing.

"Yeoman Rand, are you sick?"

"I am fine, Captain Kirk."

"Your notification to me was missing a holo. If there is one available, I'd like to have a copy...tonight," he said quickly, thinking he needed something concrete in his hands to look over. "Also, holos of the snakes our ethologists have studied."

Rand waited a moment. She cleared her throat. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Rand." Jim grasped at straws, struggling to think of something else he could ask her to bring him. "I'd like a bottle of wine, nothing over the top. And...fudge brownies. With icing."

"Sir?"Her voice cracked. "Brownies? Wine? At this hour?"

It was an odd combination but he said the first two things that had come to his mind, something alcoholic so he could relax and actually review the findings. Clear head or not, it didn't matter. Neither did it matter that he was far from being hungry and thirsty. Jim clenched his jaw, almost growing ill with the very thought of food. The chocolate was an indulgence he rarely visited. Actually, as soon as the request for the brownies left his mouth he decided he'd give them to Rand. She liked brownies and he was bothering her and...Bones usually made those for Jim when he was depressed.

Maybe brownies wasn't the best idea.

"Rand," he articulated sternly. Sick or not, she'd no right to question him and he couldn't withdraw his request.

"I apologize, sir."

"Apology accepted. Kirk out."

While he waited, Jim's anxiety heightened. He paced, his agitation rising by the minute. When Rand finally rang his door he greeted her himself. Only...

She was not Rand.

She was not his yeoman. She wasn't even a yeoman.

The she standing before him was an Orion crewmember, one he'd chosen for her vast expertise in, coincidentally, xenozoology. In an understated but slightly off-shoulder black top and pants hugging her every curve, she glowed with the voluptuousness and sex appeal for which her species was known. Her face was within mere inches of his, and his eyes couldn't help but travel over every exquisite feature. Gaila. Jim took a sharp breath. Beautiful, vibrant Gaila who understood Jim almost as Bones had and who Jim had found irresistible during his years at the academy. She'd returned the affection, even going so far as to helping him overcome the nightmares when they increased in intensity.

"Captain, I am not Gaila."

He furrowed his brow.

"I see it in your eyes," she uttered softly. "I know you don't realize it, but I usually see it there. It's okay. I understand."

In fact, as Jim contemplated the similarities between Gaila and this crewman, he'd almost forgotten who she was. She was Gaila's cousin, Aleyah, older by four years. Quieter, but just as sensual. Actually...Jim cleared his throat. More so.

"Dr. Jahnas, yes." He arched an eyebrow, trying to regain some authority. "How can I help you?"

"Please pardon the surprise, Captain." She cocked her head, the auburn ringlets cascading over her face and provocative display of her shoulders. Jim swallowed as the curls sprang about her collar bone, dancing like fingers caressing her skin. He forced his eyes upward and to what was at hand - moving Aleyah along before he put himself into a compromising situation.

Her lips curved upward, her eyes shifting over his own features in frank curiosity. Jim was all too aware of her sensuality and the fact that he'd avoided any prolonged, close proximity with her for good reason. It hadn't been a mistake to bring her on board, however. She was the best in her field and he - he hadn't touched a woman in over a year and had no plans to do so now in the near or even distant future. No thanks to Bones.

Aleyah. He repeated her name silently, but cursed himself for doing so. Somehow, he must remain detached.

"Yeoman Rand unfortunately felt quite ill after speaking to you and reported to sickbay for treatement," she continued in a smooth voice. Jim stared, transfixed by the inviting warmth in her eyes. "Finding me awake and informally working in the research lab, she requested that I bring this information to you. I have included my own research since it is pertinent. If I may say so, sir, you don't seem to be the type of man who stays up past two in the morning, comparing snake species."

He frowned. "The type of man..."

"But if you have changed your mind," she continued flawlessly, as she half turned away from him, "I can return later."

Indeed, she held the holos as well as the wine and a white box of what must be the iced, fudge brownies.

Sending Aleyah? This was not a good idea. What had Rand been thinking?

"Wait. Aleyah, by all means. Please...come in," he found himself saying.