3.

"Buffy Summers."

Buffy hid the smile she was sure he'd take the wrong way. He might mistake her for being friendly.

"Took you a whole month, huh?" she replied, not bothering to look up from her reading.

She was sitting on a patch of grass near the main building, her back against a tree with her constant companion, Emily Dickinson – a name she had assigned to her PADD after a fleeting memory of Owen crossed her mind one day. It was her very own security blanket.

"Well, I've been busy," he replied, and without an invitation, Jim sat himself down in front of her. Buffy didn't expect any less. "I had to kill a few people, if that helps."

"Dispose of the bodies?"

"Buried them in Pike's office."

"With the amount of mess in there, no one will ever know."

Jim smiled at her comeback. "So, Buffy Summers, now that I found out your name, how about that drink?

"No."

With a groan, he rolled his head back in defeat. "Is that like your favorite word?"

He had just put his head back in its rightful place when Buffy looked up, and with the smallest of smiles, replied, "No."

Well, he walked right into that one. Still, it gave him something he thought he'd never see from her. "Come on, I made you smile, hell just froze over. I think that definitely deserves a drink."

The small smile grew a little more before it faded again and reserved Buffy was back. "Sorry, James T. Kirk but I don't have time for a drink."

"So, you never drink?"

"Not when I don't have time."

"You have time now."

"Not enough for a drink."

Jim smirked. She was quick. He found that not surprising.

"Hm, sitting here, reading something that looks…" he leaned over and peeked at her device, "vaguely like history…it looks like you have time to me?"

beepbeepbeep

The timer on Buffy's watch suddenly went off and Jim knew he had struck out once again.

"And that's why you would be wrong."

Buffy put Emily Dickinson away and stood up.

"Hot date?" he teased, remaining in his spot.

She placed the strap of her bag across her body and decided to leave him with lingering thoughts. It was the least she could do, he did make her smile after all.

"Let's just say, I hope he won't be too sore in the morning."

And with that, Buffy walked away. Leaving a slightly bewildered Jim Kirk with lingering not so icky thoughts.

And with the loud way Sulu fell on his back, he most definitely will be sore in the morning.

"Ow," he flatly expressed.

It was the fourth time Buffy had dropped him on the mat. He was sure this last time he had been prepared, but –

"You were overthinking. I felt your arm loosen," she advised.

"Right. Got it."

Buffy squatted next to him. "You, okay?"

"Yep, just trying to remember how to breathe."

Gently, Buffy helped him to sit up and watched as he took his breaths just in case she needed to rush him to the infirmary.

"I think I'm done for today," he declared, wincing as he arched his back.

"Good plan," she said, rising to her feet and helping him do the same.

Sulu tried to stretch as best he could, but the incoming soreness caused limited movement of his limbs. "I think I've absolutely earned that pizza now."

Buffy laughed. "Yes, you absolutely have, but we can go another day, if –"

"No, no. I need that pizza. And a beer."

"Pizza and a beer, you got it."

They headed out of the private training studio, Sulu groaning with every other step.

"You might have to feed me," he told her and she laughed as they made their way to the locker rooms.

"Why can't they just leave me alone?"

Buffy was sitting in Pike's kitchen morosely nursing a glass of white wine. She had a meeting with Dr. Sirtis the day after tomorrow to discuss how she was 'adjusting' to her life. Buffy had been in this new century going on three years and considering how far she was advancing in her education it should be noted she was adjusting fine. However, it wasn't just the monthly psych evaluations. There were also the quarterly physical exams. The random mental and physical tests to see how she was progressing. The occasional meetings with historians about her life in the 20th century. The commission's annual meeting to go over everything they put her through just to ask useless questions that confirmed everything that's already been noted and reported in her file.

Buffy felt like a show pony. They were trying to squeeze as much out of her before they eventually put her out to pasture. Something she was very much looking forward to.

Pike smiled softly. "Because you're special."

Buffy eyed him seriously. "I mean it. Haven't they asked and poked and tested me enough already? It's not like I chose to time travel to the twenty-third century."

Pike meant what he said. Buffy was special. She was a girl who learned so much, so fast. Her ability to adapt surprised everyone. However, Pike knew that it was more than just her intelligence and her need to survive that propelled her. The conscious choice to thrive was her way of hiding. To not deal with the reality of her life. She was taken away from the life she knew and forced to adjust to a strange new world with strange new technology and strange beings who demanded so much from her. Knowledge seemed to be a safe place for her to cocoon herself in and it worked out remarkably in her favor.

"You're an anomaly, Buffy," he said and took a sip from his beer. "Unfortunately, for the time being, you're a scientific mystery they want to learn all about and that comes with a lot of testing."

There was nothing Pike could do. He had fought on her behalf, arguing how testing her so often was unnecessary, but they ignored him every time.

Rolling her eyes from frustration, Buffy took another sip of her wine. What he said was true, she knew that, but oh, did she hate it.

"It's because of the bubble, isn't it?" she questioned. "I think they've tested me as far as they could, but it's what the bubble did, that's what they're really after."

Pike nodded. "It is what protected you."

"And changed me."

Something about the energy bubble not only kept her body safely at stasis as she passed through portals, blackholes, space, and time, but it somehow modified her system. All those years in hibernation, in quarantine, Buffy's immune system was being strengthened, reworked so her biology could adapt to her new surroundings. No one could understand how it knew, where it came from or how it worked. It was definitely a mystery she herself didn't understand, being asleep for the entirety of it.

Then, on a random afternoon, she was reborn. The bubble inexplicably dissipated, melting into nothingness and her heart stopped. Buffy Summers died…again.

At least until the lovely medical staff managed to get her heart going. So, for the first time in two decades, Buffy had opened her eyes.

And the questions never stopped coming.

"And that's why they're so curious," Pike stated.

Buffy twirled her wine glass, watching the liquid swish. "I don't have the answers they're looking for. They died the day I did. The bubble's gone and never coming back."

Pike didn't know how to make it stop. He tried and was rebuffed. He didn't like what all those tests were doing to her. All the poking and prodding caused Buffy to close herself off – even more than she did naturally. It was making her feel distrustful, guarded, and misplaced. Buffy never said these things to him of course, not directly, but the signs were there – like spending an evening talking to him instead of the friends she didn't really have – that wasn't a good sign.

"They'll move on…eventually," he assured her. "They may be stubborn, but they're not stupid. Not all of them anyway."

The smile he gave her was meant to be comforting, but Buffy was too much in the wallowing to be comforted. She wanted to be left alone.

And she wanted to forget.

With a swift gulp, Buffy finished off the rest of her wine. She got up from her seat and slipped on her leather jacket.

"Where you going?" he asked casually.

"I don't know. I just know I need to not think for a while."

Pike nodded in understanding. "If it's worth anything, I am sorry."

"I know. Thanks."

Buffy gave him a fleeting smile before she left his apartment. Pike could listen to her talk for hours if she needed to, she was extremely grateful for it but not what she needed right now.

The Grace-Lee was a bar just off the Starfleet compound. It was a pub most days, a place for cheap food and decent drinks with modest background music coming from hidden speakers; on weekends it became a nightclub with loud music and overly priced food and drinks. It was a hangout for Starfleet cadets and personnel when there was nothing else to do. A modern-day Bronze Buffy casually visited. She popped in alone on the occasional night off. She'd have a drink, snack on some fries, and then head home. On extremely rare occasions, she'd meet a classmate for a drink, eat a burger and fries and then head home. A real testament to her social life or lack thereof.

Tonight...tonight Buffy was set on drinking and forgetting alone. She needed the music and offside conversations to drown out the thoughts that invaded her mind. She made herself at home in one of the empty tables. Picking at the fries and sipping her drinks.

It was an hour in when Buffy realized how lame she was. Drinking alone when she didn't need to be. And the more she was alone the more thoughts swirled. Well, this was a bad idea.

The place was picking up as the night went on. More and more people arrived and louder the music became. Still, Buffy sat alone and people watched from her table…and that's when she saw him.

It wasn't the smartest choice. It wasn't the most rational. At this point, Buffy didn't care. She didn't want rational, she wanted to forget. And seeing Jim Kirk leaning casually on a tabletop near the bar seemed like the right answer to her forgetting.

He did go to the trouble of learning her name after all.