I hope you're all enjoying this newest saga! I haven't heard from many of you, so I assume you are enjoying it. I figure as I finish a chapter I'll post another one for you all! I hope you enjoy!

***Disclaimer: I've rated this story T because it really is...except for this chapter. Definite M themes here. If you like a T rated chapter pm me and I can send you an edited version. For you youngsters, none for you.***

Chapter Three: Discovery

The night was freezing. Temperatures had dipped below zero for the first time that season and the threat of a winter storm was on the way for the foothills and front range of Colorado. Charlie enjoyed the sharpness of the cold as she leaned against the deck supports outside her bedroom door. Being the black sheep of the family had its benefits when you get the entire basement suite to yourself, including your own bathroom and living room with sliding doors onto a patio. She had one of her sheep's wool blankets draped around her shoulders as she stared up at the bright full moon filling the night sky with its cold glow. Although there wasn't a cloud seen, Charlie could smell the snow coming down off the ridge. The weatherman said three to six inches, but Charlie was betting it was going to be more like five to eight if the storm held. She'd been through enough winters in Colorado to know you could never predict the snow total, especially when you lived at the base of Pike's Peak.

It was close to midnight, and the change in time from where they were in 23rd century San Francisco, to their landing in 21st century Colorado had everyone in a deep state of jet lag. But where the others were spread out throughout her living room, asleep for hours, Charlie was wide awake and wondering. Her father never came back down to talk to her, and the rest of her family spent their time trying to calm him down. From what Rachel said, he had been raving about calling the police and sending the National Guard after her. She had been gone too long to just waltz back into the house like she still lived there.

Charlie blew a piece of bang from her eyes, shaking her head in frustration. She never asked to come back, had been perfectly fine staying where she was. She couldn't even remember why she felt compelled to jump down that tunnel, and she had no clue where those figures with the child had gone. Her family's property bordered Pike National forest. They could have easily disappeared into the woods. Or if they found a way to get to I-25, they could be anywhere.

"Damn, it's freezing out here." Charlie jumped as Jim came next to her, wrapped in his own blanket.

"Jesus, Jim. Wear a bell or something."

He grinned, leaning down to lay a kiss on her cold lips. "But it's hilarious to see you jump."

She shot a glare, her eyes moving back to the white globe in the sky.

"Are you okay?" Jim brushed a strand of windblown hair behind her ear, his concerned gaze riveted to her.

She sighed. "I'm fine. Just thinking about earlier. Today's display wasn't totally unexpected. I think I'm more embarrassed than anything."

"Well don't be." He opened his arms, pulling Charlie into his embrace as he nuzzled his warm cheek against her frozen one. "We won't judge you any differently. Trust me, having the legacy of your dad to live up to isn't always a great thing."

"Yes, but your father never embarrassed you in front of some the smartest people you know. Friends who you respect and love before anything else. He didn't even act like he was glad to see me."

"That's not true Charlie. I bet it was just the shock of having you come home."

"A father should embrace his daughter then. Tell her he loves her, that's he's relieved she's home. I bet your dad would have done that if it had been you."

Jim stiffened. "You're right. But I'll never know."

Charlie blew a piece of bangs out of her eyes, her constitution torn. "Jim, I know you hate not ever knowing your dad, and I've always tried so hard not to blast mine in front of you. But the display you saw today is par for the course with my father. I'm never good enough; can never do anything right. Mom and Rachel had the expected reactions from family. His was cold at best." She stepped away from Kirk, climbing back into the shell that always protected her from her father's dissatisfaction. "I never wanted you to see this, to see how he treated me; what it was like in this house."

Jim frowned, following her into the moonlight but respecting her need for space. "Charlie, he will never make me stop loving you. In fact, I love you more now that I've seen what you had deal with growing up. How you overcame that to fight Sagan and Khan, who apparently this guy beat. Meeting your dad, I can see how Khan lost."

Charlie smiled, but the light didn't reach her eyes. This wasn't the same man Khan goaded her with. This was the father she left behind, which meant they were back in her world, where Star Trek was just a show. And now, Charlie had to figure out a way to get them all back where they belonged, before they learned the truth of where they really were.

"Jim?" She turned, the light from the moon like a white halo around her. "No matter what happens, you'll always love me, right?"

He didn't understand what she could mean, his arms crossing under the blanket. "Charlie, I've loved you since I first saw you, and I'll love until the day I die . . . again. It's you and me to the bitter end like we've said. I promise, no matter what happens now or in the future, you and I are a team."

She nodded, shuffling over to him until he had no choice but to pull her into his warm cocoon. "Just remember that next time I piss you off, ok?"

Jim laughed holding her close as the wind picked up and clouds began drifting in from the north. Yep. Eight inches were coming.

The world was a sea of white. Giant, fluffy flakes of snow fell from the sky in a silent torrent, building up inch by inch as the morning progressed. By the time the crew would wake, six inches would coat the ground outside the house with no end in sight. Most of Charlie's family had already disbursed for the day, undeterred by the weather. She was up early, sipping her tea as the others continued to sleep in the early morning, her nightmares rearing their ugly heads again. Images of dark, swirling masses, the clashing of battle, and her father's angry eyes bolted her up in the predawn hours. Her heart racing and breath shallow, Charlie half expected a figure to come at her from the corner, but the soft silence of snowfall and the even breathing of those in the basement filled the air.

Used to the feeling of exhaustion, she had quietly gotten up, trying not to disturb Uhura who slept on the trundle bed next to her, and padded her way upstairs.

That's where her mother found her, leaning against the doorframe and watching the flakes float gently down.

"Good morning," Margaret greeted, setting her black briefcase down next to the stairs.

"Morning," Charlie mumbled not turning around.

"You're up early."

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Coming up behind, Margaret snaked an arm around her daughter, pulling her close.

"I'm so glad you're home," she whispered into her daughter's disheveled hair.

"At least you are," Charlie mumbled as her mother released her and headed over to the coffee pot.

"Your father is too." Margaret poured herself a thermal, shaking her head as she did.

"He has a funny way of showing it."

Margaret clucked her tongue, rolling her eyes as she came next to Charlie, watching the snow fall. "Charlotte, you're more like your father than you realize."

Charlie snorted. "Yeah ok, don't start on that same argument, Mom. He could have at least acted like he was glad to see me."

"It was just a shock—"

"Are you ever not going to defend him?" Charlie's eyes were hard as she turned to her mother, barely registering the dark suit Margaret was wearing.

Margaret pursed her lips, her seafoam gaze as hard as her daughter's. "He's my husband, and your father, whether you like it not. I will defend him till death do us part. When you're married someday, you'll understand."

"I already understand, Mom. And when my guy's an idiot, I tell him."

"Your guy, huh? And who is your guy? Not that blue-eyed hunk you brought home with you?" Her tone was a mix of humor and condescension.

Charlie turned away, unwilling to answer the poignant stare of her mother. There were too many things unsaid to start there.

"Fine, but I'll find out eventually." Charlie rolled her eyes, having heard that often growing up. She tried to ignore the fact that her mother almost always did. "Well, I planned to stay home today but something came up and I have to go into the office for a few hours," Margaret added, picking her bag by the stairs and twisting the lid onto her cup. "But I should be home around two or three."

Charlie finally registered the dark pantsuit instead of the officer's uniform that had been standard growing up. Spinning, she caught her mother as she marched off toward the garage.

"Office? Where are you working?"

Margaret poked her head back in the kitchen, throwing on her winter jacket.

"I'm still at Cheyenne Mountain. Just in a different capacity."

"What are you working on?"

"You know that's classified. Oh, and we're going to have a discussion when I come home, young lady." The steel in her gaze had Charlie's stomach doing summersaults. "I want to know where you were and why in God's name you didn't let us know you were ok. I mean it, Charlotte Elizabeth. You will tell me everything."

The door shut with a snap, and Charlie returned to studying the swirling white outside the door. She was going to need to think of something and think it up quick.

Jim was awake. Had been since before dawn. Some if it was the snoring competition between Scotty and Bones. Some of it had been the unfamiliar environment and the thought of in-laws sleeping two floors above. Most of it, though he'd only admit to himself, was the lack of a warm, very female body next to him. A concept that a few years ago he would have laughed at the thought to be tied down to one woman when there were so many shapes and sizes to choose from. But that was until he met Charlie and realized none of the other women would ever be her.

Checking out her small bedroom, Jim had figured he could squeeze his body next to hers on the twin bed that occupied most of the space, but with her cheeks flaming, Charlie made it clear that with her parents sleeping above it was wiser not to tempt fate.

Jim wanted to debate further, had a whole counterargument planned in his head when Uhura slunk by and shut the door in his face, smirking mischievously as she said, "Hoes before bros."

As Jim lay on the floor, his hands laced behind his head as he stared at the weirdly textured ceiling, he had a new appreciation for everything Charlie went through when she came into his time. He hadn't understood the changes she had to endure as she adjusted to his world; didn't realize how much of herself she had to change to fit in. Now that he was in the 21st century, he felt weird. Disjointed. He was in an unfamiliar environment but in a familiar place. He didn't know how half the items in the house worked, the air had a gritty texture to it, and the water tasted strongly of chemicals.

But it was Charlie's home. The place where she spent her childhood, and learned to be the woman she was. Jim felt such awe and appreciation at how fast and how far Charlie had learned about his time, understanding how difficult it must have been coming from there.

The door to Charlie's room creaked open as she quietly padded out, snaking around the sleeping forms of Spock and Sulu and heading upstairs. Jim heard her move about the kitchen, closely followed by the sound of her mother's voice. Although their words were muffled, Jim could hear the tone and inflection from Margaret Noland and knew she wanted answers. Not that he could blame her. Her daughter had been gone for almost three years by the sounds of it and then randomly showed up with a whole herd of people behind her. He'd be asking questions too.

With a sigh, Jim threw the quilt off his legs and stood up with a stretch and small grown. His bare feet tiptoed across the floor toward the stairs, trying to avoid the snoring ensemble around him. His jacket had been thrown in the corner, but he wore his Academy T-shirt underneath and still had his grey wool pants. One thing was certain, if they were staying any longer, he'd have to find new clothes.

At the top of the stairs, Jim turned, catching Charlie staring out at the snow as she leaned against the frame of the French doors. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun and she had a flannel shawl draped around her shoulders. For an instant, Jim's breath caught in his throat. He could see them in the future, in their own home as Charlie watched for their kids and a dog that played in the snow.

With a shake of his head, Jim cleared the thoughts. Kids? Was he thinking about kids?

"Hey," he called, trying to hide the embarrassment even though she couldn't see into his thoughts.

Charlie turned, the soft white light illuminating her eyes so they shined.

"Hey yourself," she answered. "How'd you sleep?"

"Not great," he admitted with a shrug. "Between the dueling orchestra and the rock-hard floor, sleep wasn't easy."

Charlie winced, shrugging her shoulders. "Well I can't do anything about the snoring, but I'll dig through the garage today. I'm sure there's some equipment left over from when my brother was in Boy Scouts. I'll see if I can find a few cots and maybe an air mattress. Coffee?"

The delicious aroma finally hit his consciousness and Jim practically groaned. "God yes."

Charlie laughed, pouring Jim a cup while adding come coffee to her now empty mug. Jim gratefully took the steaming liquid from her and drank happily, undeterred by the bitter taste. As he glanced up, he noticed the tiredness of Charlie's dark gaze; dark circles encompassed her puffy eyes.

"Nightmares?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

Charlie sighed, knowing she couldn't avoid talking to him. "Yes. They came back last night, but they were weird. There were these dark swirling masses involved in some battle, and then my dad showed up."

"He really got to you."

"He always gets to me."

Jim frowned as Charlie turned away. Although he never knew his father, the man his mother described would never have treated him the same way Robert Noland treated Charlie.

"I'm here now," he reiterated.

"You say that. But wait until you spend longer than five seconds with him. Then it gets fun."

"You're not alone anymore." He sat his cup down on the counter, his hands catching her shoulders and turning her around. "We're all here with you."

"Yes, but my mother wants answers. How in the world am I going to tell her that I've been two hundred years in the future?"

"We'll think of something."

Charlie signed again, reaching up to rub away the headache that was beginning to form. "Sometimes I wish I had your confidence."

"Are you kidding me? Half the time you smack me in the face with yours," Jim joked, wrestling a grin from Charlie and she ducked away, hiding her flaming cheeks.

"Well," she changed the subject. "Let me make another pot before everyone gets up, and check to see what my mother has in the fridge. Unfortunately, I doubt she was expecting to feed seven extra mouths so there may not be much and there's no way I'm going out in this. Besides, I don't have my license or any money on me."

Jim blinked. "That's right, you use a currency here." The task of getting back just got a lot harder.

"Yeah, but my parents are loaded. Well not loaded, but they're comfortable. I'll see what I can get from them." Charlie paused, the cup halfway to her mouth. "Actually, I'll ask Rachel to do it. She was always better at weaseling money out of the Colonel than either Bryan or I ever could."

"Where is your brother?"

Charlie grinned at the way Jim tried to act nonchalant. "Why? Nervous about meeting him?"

Jim glared over the top of his mug. "I've fought Klingons, the Gorn, Romulans; I've done the Kobiashi Maru three times—"

"Jim, it's totally fine to admit you're scared of my family." Charlie tried not to laugh, but the daggers thrown at her from Jim's gaze had her almost rolling.

"I'm not scared to meet your family."

They could hear movement downstairs as the others began to wake. "Sure, Dear," Charlie grinned. "Whatever you say."

Jim was about to respond when a strange ringing filled the house from all corners. Startled shouts below had Charlie rolling her eyes when she realized that they had never heard a home phone before. The call ID was blocked so she left it alone until her mother's voice began to call from the answering machine.

"Charlotte! Pick up the phone; it's your mother—"

"What in holy hell is that monstrosity!"

Scotty was at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide and his thin hair standing up in all directions.

Charlie tried not to snicker as she picked up the silver receiver in the kitchen. "It's called a phone, Scotty. Hello, Mother. Yes—"

"Hey Scotty, uh, your shirt's on backwards," Jim pointed out with a grin as Charlie plugged her ear to listen to her mother's voice.

"Well I didna have the time to make sure my appearance was up to snuff, Cap'n. Thought we were under attack."

"Under attack from what?" Jim scoffed.

"Who knows! It's the 21st century. Could be anythin'. Is that coffee I smell?" Before Jim could blink, the Scotsman had a mug, poured a cup and drank half of it. "Aw yeah. That's the good stuff."

"Okay, yes I'll take care of it. Yes, I know what to do. Good-bye, Mother." Charlie hung up the phone will a roll of her eyes.

"Is that a telephone?" Scotty asked, the awe present in his tone as he set down his mug.

"Yes?" Charlie had barely finished when Scotty had it out of her hand and began messing with the receiver. "I swear to God, Scotty. You make sure it's put back together perfectly. You hear me?"

Scotty just waved his hand as he meandered to one of the chairs in the living room, the back of the receiver already gone.

"Toddler," Charlie grumbled. "He's like a toddler."

"At least he can keep occupied," Jim noted. "What'd your mom want?"

Charlie groaned, remaking the coffee in the pot as the others began to thunder up the stairs. "Because of the storm, the grooms can't make it up the hill."

"So what does that mean?"

The others began filing in, their hair distressed and sleep still in their eyes. Charlie turned toward them, the coffee pot percolating behind her.

"How are you lot around horses?"

Although the temperature was below freezing, the crew inside the stable was dripping with sweat. Some of them were hauling the wheelbarrow full of manure and dirty hay outside to the compost pile while others laid down fresh straw in each stall. The work was monotonous, and dirty, but the crew was laughing as they joked with each other, and within thirty minutes, all but one stall was cleaned with each horse nibbling on a treat or a fresh bucket of oats.

The only stall left held a buckskin mare that kicked the stall door anytime someone came near. She neighed loudly, and for those like Sulu and Spock who had never been around horses before, they were hesitant to go anywhere near the back of the stable. She tossed her black mane in annoyance and made sure everyone knew she wanted out.

"Let me guess, that one's yours?" Jim asked Charlie, leaning on the pitchfork he'd used to move hay. Being a farm boy from Iowa had its perks.

"How'd you know?" she smirked. "Yeah, that's my Spirit. She and I competed in Westernairs when I was in high school."

"What's westernairs?" Uhura asked, taking a swig from a water bottle.

"It's based here in Colorado. I actually had to drive up to Denver to participate. Drill riding, mostly. But I got to learn better horse care, roping, and trick riding."

"I didn't know you did that," Jim remarked.

Charlie shrugged. "You never asked. Besides it's been over three years since I've even sat on a horse, let alone do any of the tricks I knew how to do."

"That's cool? Right? That's the term?" Uhura asked, a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

Charlie grinned, "Yeah. It was cool."

"How much more of this mucking do we have to do, Spitfire?" McCoy barked, bringing in the newly emptied wheelbarrow. "I'm a doctor you know, not a stable boy."

"Aye, I smell something mighty fowl," Scotty added, lifting his arm to smell underneath.

"Nice," Sulu muttered in disgust, Scotty giving him a 'what?' shrug.

"I believe we all require the opportunity to remove the work of today," Spock added from the back his arms tucking behind him. Charlie smirked, noticing the way the Vulcan tried not display his disgust at the humans surrounding him. Did Vulcans have superior smell as well as strength?

"That's fine, you guys helped me a lot. This would have easily me taken two hours. I'll get Spirit; she only responds to me anyway."

"I'll stay," Jim said, grabbing another hay bale, his forearms straining as he moved down by the last stall, a resounding thump echoing through the stable as Spirit kicked the door. Jim didn't even flinch, just dropped the bale and dusted the dirt off his work gloves.

Uhura raised on long, dark brow, her black eyes sparkling with mischief, especially when she noticed the heat in Charlie's cheeks.

"If there is more work to be done, we should stay and assist." Spock picked up the wheelbarrow until Uhura laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"They got it. Come on, you all smell as bad as the animals."

"Now hold up you—" McCoy growled as the team made their way outside, following the hastily made path through the snow toward the house. The sun finally peaked out from the clouds, the nine inches of whiteness beginning to sparkle like diamonds.

As their voices faded away, Jim pulled off the gloves, dropping them onto the floor.

"Well, I guess—" Before Charlie knew what happened, Jim had grabbed the sides of her face, his lips crushing to hers in heat and flame.

"I thought they'd never leave," Jim muttered as they came up for breath, gentling shoving Charlie toward the tack room. Charlie's brain had become muddled and fuzzy, the lips against her neck and the heat that uncoiled in her belly the only thoughts and sensations she cared about.

They stumbled into the tack room with a laugh, Charlie flicking on the light, illuminating the saddles, bridles, lead lines, and brushes in their neat and respected places. The minute the door closed behind Jim, Charlies lips were back on his, her hands stroking his back and her hips grinding into his.

With a groan, Jim nibbled his way down her jaw, drawing sighs and little gasps as he found her tender spots. Her hands pulled at his shirt and jacket, until he shed them to the floor, his bare chest heaving in exertion as the heat built in the small room.

Her shirt joined his, followed by her bra as Jim kissed his way from her neck, to her shoulders and south until he took one rosy peak in his mouth. Charlie's head fell back with a gasp as Jim's arms became the only thing holding her up. He moved from one to the other, loving them as much as he loved the woman they were attached to, showing Charlie that whether it was 2018 or 2261 nothing else mattered besides her.

"Jim," she gasped, her backside hitting the table used to repair and polish. "I need you."

In an instant he stood up, his lips capturing hers, torturing and lavishing, tasting and relishing the woman beneath him. Hands worked on buttons and zippers, undergarments almost torn in their haste to be shed. What could have been an instant or a thousand years, Charlie felt strong arms lift her onto the table, her legs going around sturdy hips where a large scar covered one side. Her eyes shone like fire, glassy with desire while Jim's sapphire gaze twinkled with love and trust, darkening as he slowly joined with her.

Charlie gasped; it didn't matter if it was her first time or the hundredth, every time Jim filled her, a deep contentment swept through their blood. Her brain was foggy with desire, but her nerves were calm, and heart beat with a steady, strong rhythm. No matter what happened, no matter what villains they faced or triumphs they completed, this wonderful, smart, amazing man loved her, and would for the rest of time.

They started a slow rhythm, both lost in the feelings of one another and the love that bloomed between them. But as the heat grew so did their pace until Jim and Charlie where panting in their effort, their eyes closed and their arms and legs wrapped around one other. They climbed the same peak until with synchronized cries they crested together, their muscles spasming and their hearts beating in unison.

Panting and satiated, limp bodies draped across one another and dimly, Jim wondered how he was still standing.

"Well that was unexpected," Charlie remarked once her breath caught up.

Jim lifted his head from where he had laid it on her shoulder. "I don't hear you complaining."

"Oh I'm not," she grinned. "Just didn't realize we both needed that."

"I've been thinking about you all night. And with your parents in the house—"

"You don't need to say another word," Charlie interrupted, rising to leave a kiss on his lips.

Jim pulled out with a small gasp, reaching down to grab their clothes, passing Charlie's off to her. He smirked as he noticed the languid ways Charlie moved, and the bright flush still coating her cheeks. "I know we'd normally stay naked for a long time," his smirk turned wicked as Charlie glared at him, shimmying into her jeans. "But we do need to get that stall done, and get back to the others."

"I hate when you're right," she agreed, throwing on her shirt, then her jacket over it, both covered with dust and straw. "We need to come up with a plan though; for what to tell my parents."

"I've been thinking about it," Jim said, throwing on his jacket but leaving it loose and open. Walking back to Charlie, Jim ran his hands along her arms, his heart full as he stared at her swollen lips and sparkling gaze. "I think we're going to need the Vulcan."

Charlie nodded. "I think so too. Let's get Spirit, you clean her stall, I'll take care of her, then we can talk to Spock."

"Deal." He touched his lips to hers, already growing warm at the thought of her. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

It didn't take long to get Charlie's horse situated back in her clean stall, thoroughly brushed and content with a new bucket of oats and a couple carrots. Charlie and Jim walked hand in hand back into the house, sharing sidelong glances with each other and wishing they could go back to the tack room. The intensity of the last 24 hours had them both wound to the point they needed a release, or they'd break. Charlie was facing demons she thought she'd left behind, but with Jim at her side, she'd be able to battle them head-on.

Each showered since the others were done, and Charlie went up, raiding her brother's room for clothes for the men. The closest in size was McCoy and Jim, so poor Scotty and Sulu were swimming in their clothes while Spock's long legs and arms were peeking out of the jeans and shirts. Charlie knew her father's closest held more promises but she didn't dare go into their room.

Uhura, on the other hand, was taller and lither than Charlie was; the little bit of extra outfits she had in her closet barely fitting the communications officer. Knowing her sister wouldn't care, and far closer in size to Uhura, Charlie grabbed some old pieces Rachel wouldn't care about. Besides, Charlie was older; she was higher on the food chain.

Back in the basement, smelling decidedly better, the crew hung out in small groups, laughing among each other but a tension hovering. They were shooting glances between each other, wondering when their captain would let them know what their plan was. They couldn't be stuck in the 21st century forever. They needed to go home, get back to the Enterprise and figure out what the hell happened at the dedication ceremony.

Scotty cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the crew. "No that I donnae mind this little vacation, do ye think we got a way to get home? Not that your home isn't lovely," Scotty added hastily glancing at Charlie.

"Mr. Scott raises a valid point," Spock spoke from the corner, a book in his hand. "We are still unaware of the process that brought us here, nor do we know how to get back to our timeline."

"Charlie mentioned it was the same thing that brought her to us." Sulu ran a hand behind his neck. "Could we replicate it?"

"It was like it," Charlie agreed. "But it wasn't the same, not exactly. It felt like a tornado, like last time, but this one I couldn't hear or see anything. It was black, like going down a tunnel."

"Never mind the fact that there's no red matter left," Uhura added.

"So then how?" Sulu asked.

Charlie thought a moment. "Maybe we're asking the wrong question."

"How so?" Spock asked after a lingering pause. Charlie glanced among the group.

"We're thinking about what happened right then. The process of how we got here. But what about what happened before. The people that showed up and started us down this rabbit hole. Who were they? What did they want? They were going for Jim and that girl. Why?"

Spock absorbed the information in a calculating way, dipping his head in agreement. "Valid points."

"So if we can figure out who they were, maybe we could figure out how they got us here." Sulu was rapidly putting the pieces together.

"Aye," Scotty nodded. "If I could get a hold of one of their devices, the one that made us all," Scotty made a twitching motion, "I could figure out if it brought us here."

"Except Charlie," McCoy pointed out. "We all were affected except her."

"Why weren't you?" Uhura asked.

Charlie shrugged, just as baffled as the rest of them. "I felt it. It felt like a soft current, like when you can just touch electricity. And it wanted to hit me, but there was a, I guess you could call it force field around me. It couldn't penetrate."

"Fascinating," replied the Vulcan in the corner, going back into his book, as if looking for the answers within its depths.

"As 'fascinating' as it is," McCoy rolled his eyes. "Until we can figure out where they went, we're stuck."

"Thanks for that point, Bones," Jim muttered, finally joining the conversation. "We can't do anything until we can get transportation, the snow melts, and we get Charlie's family off our back." The others nodded in agreement.

"Spock, let me see you a minute." Jim jerked his head toward a corner, where the two met and began conversing in hushed tones.

As the others went back to their own discussions, McCoy began messing with the remote for the television hanging above the fireplace. Reruns were playing, some from shows Charlie knew, others she didn't. Charlie was half paying attention, until a certain theme started playing, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

"Oh no." Charlie practically dove over the couch, slapping the side the TV until the show disappeared. "Nothing to see here guys. Uh, remember how I told you about Cards for Humanity, why don't we—"

It was too late. With a push on the remote, McCoy turned the television back on where an episode of Star Trek, the Next Generation was playing. It was one of the later seasons, when Ambassador Spock snuck off to Romulus on a peace mission. There on the screen was Captain Picard and Commander Riker, closely followed by the Vulcan in question. The mention of the ship caused the whole room to grow quiet as they silently watched with growing alarm. Charlie felt the shame crawl up her back, her eyes rooted to the floor.

"What the hell is this?"

It was like a whisper by McCoy, but Charlie winced as if it was shouted.

"Something I didn't want you know."

"How is this possible?" Spock approached the television as if he'd never seen it before, his conversation with Jim forgotten. "You had mentioned a familiarity with Ambassador Spock. Is this why? Was this why you could never answer how?"

Charlie's eyes beseeched the others. "It's complicated."

"Well Spitfire, it doesn't look like we're going anywhere soon, so we've got all the time in the world." Bones snapped, grabbing one of the chairs and sitting in it backwards, his arms crossing over the back of it. "Make it uncomplicated."

With a growl, Charlie snatched the remote from McCoy's grasp, muting the episode behind her. She turned to regard those staring at her, her heart in her throat, the gazes mistrustful and betrayed.

"Fine, but let me get this out in one go, okay? Please don't ask any question until it's finished."

She glanced around as everyone nodded.

"I've known about all of you my whole life." To say the faces gazing back at her were shocked would be an understatement. "About fifty years ago, at the height of the Apollo missions to the moon a television show aired called Star Trek. It was about a crew and their space ship exploring the galaxy, charting new territories and boldly going where no one had gone before. The ship was called the Enterprise and it was headed by Captain Kirk." Charlie caught Jim's cerulean gaze for a brief second and then darted away. "That's our—Your ship. It was revolutionary that the idea of humanity bettering itself and reaching for the stars could actually happen and have a crew as diverse as yours. The first interracial kiss between Uhura and Kirk was featured in one of the episodes which for the '60s was huge."

"Ew," Uhura shivered in disgust, Jim's face matching in the back corner.

"The show ran for three seasons before it was finally cancelled," Charlie continued. "But what started out as a slow burn turned into a cult classic. By the '70s, there was an animated show, and then the beginning of six films, the second one the most regarded called the Wrath of Khan." There were gasps and quick glances toward an impassive Kirk, propped up against the wall, no emotion being shown. "Based on the success of the films, a new show was developed, what you see behind me. Star Trek, the Next Generation is set about eighty years past the end of the films. It features a new crew, the Enterprise D, and was far more serious and idealistic than its earlier counterpart.

"That was the show I grew up on. I always loved Captain Picard. He was tough, but fair. Everything I wish my dad could be as an officer. Pike was a lot like him." Charlie's throat caught, but she pushed the emotion back down. "I instantly knew where I was when I saw Klingons on Nimbus III, and then I knew when they were attacking you the timeline I was in."

"There were Klingons helping those Starfleet officers." Sulu asked, gesturing the episode running behind her. "Does that mean we become allies with them?" Sulu asked.

"It's fake," Bones snarled. "It's a made up piece of entertainment. Who the hell knows what's going to happen."

"Bones," Jim warned.

"You're right, McCoy," Charlie snapped. "In my universe, it is a made up show, but in your world this is your life."

"Are you saying this display pf theatre accurately depicts our lives?" Spock asked.

Charlie chewed her lip. "Yes . . . and no. These are actors portraying characters. But you are the characters, in the flesh and blood."

"So what? We're these other people?" Bones snapped. "With different lives, different professions, different families?!"

"No, you are still you." Charlie was exasperated, rubbing her forehead in agitation. "Think of it as the multiverse theory. Alternative universes. You guys have always looked at it as the two universes you focused on. Prime you and the current you. Prime Spock, you Spock." She gestured at the Vulcan who sat hunched over in thought. "But there's got to be so many more. Ones where you didn't go to Starfleet. Where you didn't defeat Nero. Where you didn't defeat Khan. I have a feeling for every decision we make there's a universe where we made the opposite choice."

"So yer talkin' like parallel universes?" Scotty piped up from the back, a perplexed look on his face.

"In a way. I'm not sure what the development was like in your timeline, but in mine we've had quantum mechanics since I think as early as the '50s, so there's been this idea of multi-universes since then. They've never been proven to exist though. As far as I know, I'm the only one who could prove it true. And I don't even understand how it worked."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Uhura sounded hurt, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed.

"And what? Have you lock me in the nut house? Do you honestly think you all would have believed me if you didn't just see it for yourself?" She pointed to the TV where the episode continued to run as if nothing were happening.

"She told me," Jim finally admitted, pushing off the wall he was leaning against to stand next to Charlie. Her brow furrowed in confusion, until realization dawned.

"You heard me?" While the thought would have made other women swoon, knowing their loves heard them even when they were comatose, Charlie's heart sank.

"Yeah, I did. I heard everything you ever spoke to me when I was out. It mostly felt like a dream, but now that I see this, I know it wasn't."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"After I woke up, I didn't know how to let you know I heard. I figured it didn't matter where you came from because you were there with me. That you weren't going back."

Charlie tried not to let the hurt sink in, but unconsciously she took a step back. "All this time though, we could have talked about it. Do you know how much this hurt? To not have you know? To not have any of you know?"

"Charlie, I'm sorry." Jim saw the pain in her eyes. He realized then how hard it must have been for her. To find herself in a new universe, one she only thought of as fantasy, but unable to tell a soul.

"And to make it worse," Charlie continued, her amber glare flashing as the spoke to the room. "I don't actually know what's happening in your world. It's not the one I know, the one I was raised with. I wasn't lying, Spock. I don't know what's going to happen. Not only did I land in a fantasy, but I landed in the changed one."

"Charlie—"

"No," she waved them off, tears threatening to spill. "I'm going upstairs. Let you guys talk and . . . figure out what you want to do."

Just then, she heard the ruckus of dogs and feet, her father's deep voice followed by her mother's. Before anyone could say anything, Charlie was charging up the stairs.

At the landing, Charlie swallowed her tears; not wanting to give her parent's any ammunition to use against her. Both her parents were standing in the living room, appearing to have an impassioned discussion. Deciding maybe the stable was the better place to be, her father noticed her presence.

"Charlotte."

She froze, spinning on her heel slowly.

"Hello, Colonel." Her mother was glaring at Charlie's father, Charlie flickering between the two.

"Good, I'm glad you're up here." He hurried over to her, grabbing the top of her arm and dragging her to the sofa in the living room.

"I- uh, what? Why?"

"The police are here."

Charlie's heart immediately jumped to life. "T-the police? What for?"

Robert's brows drew down confused, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "To arrest that group that kidnapped you. Don't worry, you're safe now." His pat on her shoulder had her ducking away.

She blinked at her father, his sincerity surprising her.

"WHAT?!"

Reviews are the bread and butter for us authors, so I hope you take two minutes and leave one for me! Especially since I realllly went out of my comfort zone with this chapter. Adieu!