I've had this idea bouncing around my head for a while, demanding to be written. I have to say this now. I love the Selar/Burgoyne pairing, and Xyon is adorable in his own little way. But I'm still not sure that opposites attract quite as much as that. We're talking fire and ice here. While I love the idea of their pairing, and it makes for FANTASTIC reading, I wanted to see what would happen if Burgoyne had had…alternate interests. I'm basing the girl for this story off a friend of mine, who is absolutely WILD for star trek. J She threatened my life when she saw I had the star trek plate collection. I must warn you she's a little crazy, and not afraid to freak people out. Just as an example: she routinely shows people her scar from brain surgery, just to see their faces. I rest my case. I give no guarantees the updates will be frequent or long, as I have a job, just got a new boss who seems nice, but has changed my hours drastically, and go to college in preparation for nursing school, but it WILL be updated. I will basically be changing all the story line around to suit myself, but that's why they call it artistic license. J This has to be THE most clichéd story line in ANY world, but it had to be done. And Q plays a factor. He's been suspiciously absent in the NF series.


I don't own them. Peter David, does. I'm just using them shamelessly for my own amusement.

"Ngggghhhhhh." groaned a female voice. You couldn't really tell where the voice was coming from, since the room she was sitting in was a complete mess. Books lay on every available surface, clothes, clean and dirty lay in piles and only the wearer could distinguish from the other. An unmade bed sat against the far wall, where absolutely NO sunlight could reach it before at least three P.M. A computer setup sat in front of the window, further blocking the light. The covers on the bed shifted, revealing the girl that had been totally hidden beneath a pile of blankets, pillows, and a couple of socks that she hadn't bothered to put on the floor before collapsing in the bed the night before.

She sat up and tossed the pillow that had been hiding her head from view to the floor and ran her hands through her thick, shoulder length brown hair, which stuck in many directions. Sleep made her brown eyes hazy. "Well, this sucks. It's only…" she peered at the clock on the far wall grumpily. "Nine. I can sleep for another hour before I have to go anywhere. The one day a week I can actually sleep in, and I can't. Life's not fair."

She threw the covers back and got up, revealing a horrible bright red Hawaiian print top, which served as her nightgown. She had gotten it as a gag gift for her birthday last year, and she absolutely loved it. It suited her personality to a tee.

She slipped on her favorite tweety bird slippers and shuffled to the bathroom down the hall, where she brushed her teeth. She absolutely refused to get dressed before she had to, even if she couldn't sleep in. It was the principle of the thing, dammit! She looked up in surprise as the door to the bathroom slammed shut. "Now how the bloody hell did THAT happen?" she muttered, putting her toothbrush in the rack and spitting the remaining toothpaste in the sink. She rinsed her mouth idly and shrugged. Must have been the air coming on. The door had closed like that before in this house. True, it had been while there was another door open, and wind blowing, but still. She wiped her mouth with her hand towel and walked to the closed bathroom door, tossing the towel in the clothes hamper, where it landed neatly. She smirked triumphantly as she opened her bathroom door, only to freeze in the doorway, eyes wide. Where the hell had her hallway gone? And who were all these strange looking people? She stared around the room, taking in the various skin shades, extra limbs, and in one case, antennae. The one thing most of them had in common was the skintight uniform, mostly black, but with a color from the breastbone up.
The people in the room were staring right back. One of them in red tapped a little badge thing on his chest. "Security to Team Room! Intruder alert!" he snapped, eyeing her up and down.

She gulped and looked back at the doorway she had just come through. Her bathroom had disappeared, leaving a corridor that seemed to stretch for miles before curving gently out of sight. She raised her hand timidly, as if she were trying to get a teachers attention. "Um, where the hell am I?" She looked down at herself. "And where can I get some clothes?"

* * *

"I have no idea where she came from, Captain." Said the security guard who had escorted her to the brig, where she sat on the cot, scowling at the floor. "I got a call from Lt. Masters, and found her standing in the door, wearing that." He said, pointing to a gaudy shirt, which they had confiscated, making her put on a gray outfit. She had thrown a fit, before they assured her that they wouldn't harm her 'favorite shirt.'

"Has she posed a threat to anyone on board?" asked Calhoun, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She had looked up briefly when he entered the room, but when he hadn't tried to speak to her, she had gone back to scowling at the helpless floor.

"No, she just keeps asking, and I quote, 'where the hell she is, and how did she get stuck in a giant costume party?' I'm willing to guess she's never seen a non-terran before. She nearly wet her pants when she got a good look at Kebron. Or as she calls him, Mount Rushmore come to life." He grinned. It had been funny to watch her first meeting with the Head of Security. The poor girl had only come to the Brikars' waist, forcing her to bend almost backward to see his craggy face.

Calhoun grinned slightly. "If she hasn't offered to hurt anyone, escort her to sickbay, I want to know about our new…guest."

* * *

"Is she an elf?" Whispered the girl to her escort, a young human boy in a yellow uniform. He smirked. "No, she's a Vulcan." He said, nodding to the woman in question. "Doctor Selar."

"Lt. Commander." She said, nodding back. She turned her expressionless face to her new patient. "Are you the intruder?" she asked mildly.

"No, I'm the one who's probably lying face down in her bathroom, hallucinating." She said, completely deadpan. "I knew that Chinese tasted funny last night."

Selar raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. If you will sit over here?" she asked, gesturing at a table. The girl shrugged and walked over, hopping up to sit on the table. It was quite a jump, for she was only about five feet tall, if that. Selar ran the tricorder over the girl and typed a few things into the keypad. "What is your name?"

"Rachel."

"How old are you?"
"I'm going to be 21 in a month and a half."

"What year is it?"

"2002."

Selar looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. "No it is not." She said calmly snapping closed her tricorder. "It is approximately three hundred years beyond that."

The girl goggled at her. "Do what?"

"I detected nothing wrong with your hearing." Said Selar.

"I heard what you said, I just don't believe it." She said, staring into space. "That's it. No more Chinese. I'm off the stuff for good." She said under her breath. Her attention was drawn to the entrance, where a young…woman? Was helping a heavy set man limp his way to another table across the room.
"Doctor! We had an accident in engineering." Said the woman. "Peterson here tripped over his own feet."

"Burgy, you know full well I tripped over the scanner YOU left lying on the floor." He said, smirking at the woman, who smirked back, revealing a set of fangs that would do Dracula proud. Selar looked at them both, then ran an instrument over the leg. Burgy leaned against the wall, watching the proceedings.

"Well, now I know I've gone nuts." Said the girl they hadn't noticed sitting on the bed opposite Peterson, swinging her legs childishly against the cot. "I'm dreaming up vampires now."

Peterson laughed and poked Burgy in the arm, who was blinking bemusedly. "She thinks you're a vampire, Burgy."

"What's a vampire?" Burgoyne asked, crossing hir arms.

"It is a mythological creature of the night which lives off the blood of other creatures. They acquired it by the use of fangs, which they used to pierce the throat of the victim." Said Selar. "I must say, I see the similitude."

"Thank you Selar." Said Burgoyne, making a face. S/he turned back to Rachel, and smiled, hir fangs indenting hir lower lip. "I'm not a vampire. I'm a Hermat."

"What's a Hermat?" She asked.

Burgoyne rolled hir eyes. "It's a race of people. Now, who are you? I've never seen you on board before."

"Apparently my bathroom is connected to your lounge." She said, shrugging. "I came out and found myself here, where they sicced Mr. Mount Rushmore on me."

"Who?"
"Kebron." Interjected Selar, moving to put away the instrument.

Burgoyne laughed a little and Peterson smirked. "To use your charming phrasing, Selar, I see the similitude." Said Burgoyne.

Peterson stomped on the floor a bit, testing his leg. "You're a miracle worker, Doctor Selar. I'm gonna report back for duty. You coming, Chief?"

"No, I'm off duty. I just had to haul your sorry carcass down here and get you patched up. You're my replacement for second rotation."

"Lucky me. See you later, Burgy. I'll leave lots of work for you tomorrow." Said Peterson, waving as he walked out of sickbay.
Selar walked back over to the other two still in sickbay, and handed Rachel a padd. "Here. Deliver this to the captain. It includes all information I gathered from you here today." She turned to Burgoyne. "Lt. Commander, as you are off duty, it would be prudent for you to take Miss…" Selar trailed off and looked at the girl.

"Carter. Rachel Carter." Said the girl.

"Yes. Miss Carter to the Ready room."

Burgoyne shrugged. "Why not? I'm not doing anything." S/he grinned at the girl and bowed with a flourish. "Come, my lady, your turbolift awaits."