"A Crack in the Prism of Destiny" by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Star Trek Universe/West Wing/SG1)

email: ryley[underscore]breen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no one filed any lawsuits against me because I can promise you that you'll not get even a tenth of your legal fees back.

Note: In terms of timeline this'll take place on the infamous BtVS Halloween episode, near the beginning of the Stargate movie and when Josiah Bartlet is still governor of New Hampshire.

Note 2: For those of you who believe that the slightest deviation from canon is sacrilege you'll probably want to turn around and find another story. If any of you don't like stories where the Scoobies become too important/influential/powerful then it'd probably be best if you find another story because while I too have limits to how much I can tolerate in those areas they're a bit higher than most people. Also I will be adjusting the airing dates of the shows 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' and 'Star Trek: Deep Space 9' in order to make things fit better with the story I want to tell. Bottom line? If you don't like changes that contradict/ignore canon then this isn't the story for you.

A Crack in the Prism of Destiny

March 19th, 2008

SGC, Earth

"It's kinda weird not having a big bad guy to fight anymore," Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell said as the five members of SG-1 walked down the corridor, dressed for their next mission.

"Yeah, that's how we felt when we defeated the Goa'uld. And the Replicators. The first time," Lieutenant Colonel Carter said, walking in stride next to the man.

"Well, Jackson and Vala took care of that," Mitchell said with a smirk as they turned a corner towards the side entrance to the embarkation room.

"That whole Ori thing was not our fault!" Vala protested from behind, clearly opposed to accepting any kind of responsibility for what had occurred so long ago.

"Just take the blame," Doctor Daniel Jackson said, sounding like he'd long since been resigned to receiving the blame for the matter. "You get used to it."

"We played a big part in fixing the problem!" Vala said, clearly intending to put up more of a fight than the man.

"That you did," Mitchell said, not willing to deny that Jackson and Vala did play a large role in the defeat of the Ori.

"There are many planets in our gate system that remain unexplored," Teal'c stated as they entered the Gate Room, stopping with the rest of the team at the bottom of the ramp.

"Yes, let's see what mysteries P3K-546 holds!" Daniel said with a bit of faux enthusiasm.

"And what treasure!" Vala said with equal fake cheer.

"I'm sure something will come up," Mitchell said with his hands resting on his P-90. "Walter! Hit it!"

With those words one adventure ended and another began.

As had been done countless times before the inner wheel of the Alteran device began to spin and every so often one of the numerous triangular crystals lit up. One after another it occurred until the seventh and final crystal lit up, bringing about a massive surge of energy causing blue energy to surge from the inner edges of the ring towards the very center. When the energy impacted it erupted outwards towards the team, stopping just shy of the bottom of the ramp before reversing course to create a rippling pool. Once this occurred the team known as SG-1 ascended up the ramp and, without any pause in their stride, walked through the pool of water, disappearing from sight. Almost all of those who saw them leave wondered what new sights they'd see, what new race they might encounter, but one observer had different thoughts.

"Well, these humans seem to enjoy close calls," the man said as he strode out of hiding, completely ignored by those around him as he assumed the spot at the bottom of the ramp. "A little too close for my tastes."

Not that he wasn't amused by their adventures, since they were definitely more prone to drama and excitement than the ones he was used to playing with. However the fact that they meddled in matters of galactic importance when they possessed neither the scientific prowess nor the experience needed to survive such close calls for very long worried him. Skate repeatedly too close to the edge and sooner or later you'd make a mistake, plummeting off the side into oblivion. Now normally he wouldn't care all that much if a species condemned themselves to oblivion but, when they could potentially doom their entire quantum reality in the process, that just wouldn't do. The close call with those building block versions of Pinochio and the Alteran weapon on Dakara was proof enough that even the primitive humans of the reality could cause great devastation. Indeed, that was why he had been sent here by his oh so boring brethren to evaluate the situation in order to determine if action should be taken.

Not that he'd be the one to determine what that course of action should be or carry out the action.

Despite the bothersome attempts by him to 'atone' for his past romps through his favorite quantum reality, many among his people still thought he should be kept from important matters. They would likely oppose any proposal that included him being the one to correct certain flaws in this particular quantum reality. It made him consider putting forth all the effort he could into convincing them to give him the lead position on remedying things, just so he could turn around and do something that would really 'raise their blood pressure', as the humans say.

Then again, acting all stuffy and proper for any length of time would be hard for him and probably would sound rather fake to anyone who heard him speak or saw him move.

Then I guess it's better that I don't waste my time or anyone else's, he thought with a smile that'd made many a puny species run away screaming in terror manifesting on his face.

"What are you doing here?!" a female voice asked to his right, stopping him from utilizing his customary means of travel.

He rolled his eyes as his senses informed him of both who had spoken as well as what her species was, neither of which improved his mood. Turning his head to confirm what he already knew he saw a woman that should've been an entire galaxy away chained to a single world as punishment for a past transgression. Much like him she had chosen to defy the customs of her people in order to do what she thought was right. This had initially made him like her but, as the centuries had rolled by without any attempt on her part to break her chains, that positive emotion turned to contempt. Both of them knew all too well that there was a way she could acquire the necessary power to do it but, thanks to her beliefs, she refused to take advantage of that method.

She failed to see that the negative side effects of that method would be minimal since she'd only have one planet to work with rather than many.

"Chaya, my dear!" he said, almost sounding like he was greeting an old friend save for a hint of mocking hidden beneath the surface. "It's been a long time. I must say you're a little far from home. I'm surprised your 'family' let you stray so far."

"My 'family' as you put it, are the ones who sent me here," Chaya said, not bothering to hide her displeasure. "As you know they dislike interacting with those less evolved than they are and my… status… provided them a means of investigating the matter with minimal risk of unjustifiable influence. Now answer the question: WHAT are you doing HERE?!"

"Well, I was just strolling through the quantum ocean and noticed these humans, SG-1, rearranging the galactic landscape, so I decided to take a look around," he replied, keeping close enough to the truth to be believable while still keeping the more sensitive bits to himself. "Rather interesting, aren't they? One little discovery and in a matter of ten years they rise to become the dominant power in one galaxy and make significant waves in another."

"They're young but they have the potential to surpass my people. Eventually," Chaya said, sounding like she was still suspicious of him but admired the local humans.

"Yes, well, I'm a little concerned that 'eventually' might not be quick enough for them," he said, deciding he'd test the waters a little after a moment and decided a change was needed. "But let's move this conversation someplace a little more private."

Bringing up his right hand, he waited until just after the light of realization appeared in her eyes before snapping his fingers, causing the two of them to vanish from the SGC in a flash of light.

The last thing Chaya managed so say before vanishing was a single letter spoken with great objection.

Q.

The Quantum Stream

Chaya's POV

"Wha-? Where?" she asked as she looked about to find out where she'd been taken.

She was not prepared for what she found.

All about her there were scattered strands of light; some running parallel to each other while others intersected at certain points, with more colors involved than she thought existed. It was… breathtaking… and almost managed to distract her completely from what she'd been sent to do, but she managed to tear her eyes away from the sight.

"Welcome to the Quantum Stream," Q said with a bit of flourish, his arms spread wide. "We are officially outside of all known quantum realities. We should be able to discuss things without those bores of yours eavesdropping."

"Discuss what 'things'?" she asked, suspicious about what the obnoxious being was planning.

Her people had known of the Q continuum for quite a long time, given that the members of that race had visited her native quantum reality before. Some had been almost respectable while this one, if it was indeed the same individual she'd met centuries ago, had proven to be obnoxious and a pest. He'd caused quite a bit of chaos on her world before one of his own stepped in to set things right and convince him to leave. It was because of this previous contact and the fact that she no longer 'lived' with them that she'd been chosen to speak with him. The fact that he'd taken her to a plane of existence beyond what the Others could perceive, never mind monitor, implied that his proposal was something they'd disapprove of.

"Oh, the little fact that your people's policy of noninterference is running the risk of wiping out their quantum thread," Q replied, reaching out with one hand to almost but not quite touch one of the threads. "By leaving threats like the Replicators, the Ori and the Goa'uld to the humans of the SGC to handle, they've allowed your thread to come VERY close to oblivion. A lot closer than the humans have imagined in their darkest nightmares. Luck only lasts so long, after all."

As much as she wanted to disagree, she had to admit that she often found the rigid code of noninterference her people lived by to be… cold. She understood what they were afraid of, that they'd become like the Ori eventually, but she believed that there had to be a way they could still lend a hand to the younger races. Like Q had said, the younger races were indeed doing the best they could to advance towards Ascension but they were taking many risks in the effort. In games of risk luck played as much a factor as preparation and skill.

Too bad luck came in both good and bad flavors, with the former never lasting forever.

"I'll admit that they could do more to keeping the younger races from making… complicated mistakes," she admitted before choosing to probe a bit. "What do you think should be done?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Q exclaimed joyfully, a smile on his face. "I've gone up and down the timeline of this quantum thread, watched SG-1, and I have come to one inescapable conclusion: there're better people for the job."

"Your solution is to recruit others to handle the threats the SGC has dealt with?" she asked, thinking that the idea was a little extreme. "Who? Members of another race?"

"No. The humans of your thread's Earth are still the most likely candidates," Q replied with a slight shake of his head. "They just need to be more… open minded, more a lot of things, actually. Hmmmm… I wonder."

At the speed of thought all the other strands vanished until only one was visible to her and, while she had no real evidence to support this, she presumed that this was her native quantum reality she was looking at. Then, much to her surprise, she saw Q reach out and with one finger touch the thread, causing a minimal collision of energy that looked like a ripple in a pond. She was worried that this could cause damage but, when nothing changed in the thread's appearance, much less its existence, she tentatively decided to let him have a little more time.

An indeterminate amount of time later he withdrew his finger but the look of glee on his face made her feel like she did when she'd been a normal Alteran faced with a predator that could kill her if she blinked wrong.

"I think I've found just the people for the job," Q said, sounding quite pleased with what he found. "A little group from the same rough time period as the SGC but they're a little more used to dealing with the strange and the bizarre. Want to go pay them a visit?"

For a moment she considered saying no and asking to be sent back home, if only to avoid getting any deeper into what would likely be a venture that'd cause an uproar both among the Others and the Q continuum. However then she realized that if she did so, the Others might hold her partially responsible for whatever Q did because she wasn't there to stop him, or at least moderate his actions. Caught between being seen as an accomplice or a coward, she decided that if she was going to get into trouble she might as well go all the way.

"Sure. Just explain what you plan on doing before you do it," she said, hoping that, so long as she had advance knowledge of what the pest of a being had planned, she could… advise restraint.

"Why I wouldn't DREAM of leaving you in the dark, my dear!" Q declared as though the idea of withholding information was abhorrent to him.

With a snap of his fingers they were gone once more only to reappear in a town that certainly fit with what she'd seen in Sheppard's mind, including the fact that she was his home country of America. However what caught her attention more was the miasma of demonic energy that blanketed the town because, while not unknown to her people, such energy was rarely encountered. During the height of the Alteran people they even knew how to seal any apertures they found, neutralizing them and preventing any hostile races from gaining a foothold. To find one on Earth was troubling, especially since in this time period they didn't have the technology to seal such apertures.

"Don't worry too much, Chaya my dear," Q said as he looked about the town for a few moments. "Dimensional apertures like this have been around on Earth for thousands of years yet the humans here have survived nonetheless. In fact it's because of the energy and the creatures that are drawn to it that I think the humans I've chosen will do the best job at handling what's 'out there'."

"Isn't that a little dangerous?" she asked even as she used her powers to dull the bite of the unnatural energy on her senses. "If your plan is to select demon hunters or those used to interacting with them, they might even make matters worse. 'Kill first ask questions never' is usually the response, if Sheppard's memories are correct."

"Only if I were choosing just any demon hunters for the job," Q said dismissively as he finished examining the town. "This group is a bit more interesting than the rest of their primitive clique."

Another snap of his fingers and she found herself in what appeared to be a library… and the focal point of the dark energy that the town was immersed in. Though it was a risk, she tapped further into her powers to keep the demonic energy from tainting her being and hoped it would not attract the Others from this time period. Fortunately it'd likely confuse them since they'd be able to sense one version on her home world and another one on Earth. With any luck they would remain confused until Q did whatever it was he planned to do and after that they'd be too taken aback by the chaos that would surely follow to keep them from interfering in their departure.

Turning her gaze to the room's occupants, she saw two men and two women but they were a rather unusual assortment. One older man who looked to be in his mid-forties, a young man with dark hair and brown eyes, a young woman with long red hair and a young blonde woman. At first she could not detect anything special about them and certainly nothing that could have attracted Q's interest, but when she looked deeper she was shocked to see demonic energy inside of the young blonde woman. Not enough to overly influence her thought processes or behavior but certainly enough to enhance her physical abilities, not to mention bestow a degree of enhanced regenerative ability.

"What is she?" she asked as she walked unseen to the mortals around the blonde girl.

"SHE is what would be referred to as the Slayer. The latest in a line of young ladies selected by an ancient bit of human 'magic' to act as an assassin of the hostile extra-dimensional entities," Q said, showing complete disrespect for the humans' understanding of bio-energy manipulation. "Usually they are found and mentored by a group called the Watcher's Council at a young age. Trained in the ways of combat and educated on the prey duty will insist they slay, they often become obedient little attack dogs. Usually."

"I take it this one is different?" she asked as she idly looked at the books the group was looking through.

"VERY. Unlike most of the brainwashed minions the Council has helped over the centuries, Elizabeth 'Buffy' Summers led a full and rewarding life before the energy within her was activated. As a result she was RICH with American independence and concepts of free will when they found her two and half years ago," Q said, sounding like he approved significantly. "Every attempt by 'G-Man' here to turn her into a more Council-approved Slayer has failed. She's quite determined to live her life as she sees fit and only hunts the 'demons and vampires' because she'd feel guilty if anyone died because she didn't do anything."

"She must not be very effective, then," she said, believing that someone being forced to do something was generally less effective than someone doing something willingly.

"Quite the contrary, actually. She will go on to kill demons no Council-trained Slayer could have and will actually make it to old age," Q said with a smirk, looking her in the eye.

"That isn't too impressive. With the abilities I'm sensing and the proper training, anyone with these abilities could live to old age," she said after a moment's consideration.

"Actually the average lifespan of a young lady once Called is a year or two," Q said, making it clear he found it unimpressive. "If one of them successfully survived for three years they were considered gifted. Of course the other reason why most of them didn't live more than three years was because of the 'Cruciamentum'."

"The Cruciamentum?" she asked, not familiar with the term.

"An ancient Watcher's Council practice by which, on a Slayer's eighteenth birthday, they secretly administer a combination of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors to the girl. Once she's no more powerful than any other human they throw her into a building with a carefully selected vampire," Q replied as he laid out the facts with disapproval.

"That's barbaric!" she exclaimed as she imagined an ordinary human girl being left to the mercy of a bloodthirsty demon.

"Officially it was stated that the Cruciamentum was meant as a way for the Slayer to prove her cunning and resourcefulness in a way that could never be questioned again," Q said, like he personally didn't care one way or another. "Sadly all but a few of them since their line began successfully managed to pass the test. So you see, Chaya, it is indeed something of an achievement that Miss Summers managed to live long enough to become a grandmother."

For a time she said nothing as she contemplated what she'd heard as well as what Q intended to change with the help of these four humans. The life of a demon hunter was filled with strife and pain. Even if Miss Summers managed to survive to old age, that did not mean that the others in this room would and their loss would affect the young woman. When added to the potential risk to an entire quantum reality, she found herself willing to consider aiding Q in his efforts.

"What do you intend to do with them?" she asked in a reasonable and open tone of voice.

"To bring change through the looking glass and give them a choice," Q replied in a mysterious tone. "But first we have a little prep work. Care to help?"

With only a moment's hesitation she nodded and with that they flashed out of the room to prepare for the changes they wished to bring about.

Sunnydale High School

Halloween, After School

Xander's POV

"Alright ladies! Show'em or fold'em!" he said as he waited just outside the school gates with a smile on his face.

He didn't really need to see the scores they'd gotten on their tests to know that he'd won their little bet but he couldn't help but feel a little excited at the idea of his triumph. It'd been a little under two weeks ago that one of the regular talks in the library had turned a little heated when a careless comment by Buffy about his ability to translate one of Giles' books got out of hand. Looking back on it he knew that she hadn't meant to hurt his feelings but she had just the same. He'd gotten angry and said that he could be just as smart as Willow if he chose to apply himself… maybe even smarter. Buffy had giggled at that and, when he'd looked at Willow, she hadn't said anything to support the Slayer but neither had she opposed the blonde's position.

That'd hurt more than he could admit to anyone, much less to himself.

So in a moment of thoughtlessness he'd challenged the two of them to a competition of sorts, with the stakes being that if he won that he'd be the one to choose their Halloween costumes. They'd originally planned to just stay in, watch horror movies and pick at the treat bowls at Buffy's place but the Slayer changed her mind. She wanted them all to go to the Bronze Halloween night and party hearty. She'd told them that there was even a contest being held there for the best costume worth five hundred dollars and a year of free drinks from the club, so it'd been enough to sell him and Willow on the idea. They'd debated every day what each of them should wear in order to win the contest but, as of the night he'd issued the challenge, they hadn't agreed on anything. They'd all agreed on a single theme since it'd give them the best chance of winning the contest and its associated prizes. Buffy had wanted them to all go as eighteenth century nobles but he'd immediately X-ed out that idea since he'd known all too well why she'd picked that theme.

Deadboy.

Even though he no longer had romantic feelings for her, that little strip pole dance she'd done for Angel had cured him of that, he still saw her as a friend and so it bothered him more than little that she was pursuing such a doomed relationship. Angel was nothing more than a corpse animated by a demonic spirit. That meant no children since the vamp was firing blanks. He'd outlive her by decades, if not centuries, as long as he continued to drunk a steady supply of blood. Thanks to his allergy to sunlight Deadboy would either have to cover up head to toe or the two of them would have to restrict any joint activities to nighttime. Then, of course, there was the fact that he was decidedly older than her and not just in body. Angel had lived for decades and had almost certainly had learned a great many things, experienced a great many things, that had changed him in any one of a number of ways.

Couldn't Buffy see that to Deadboy she might as well have been an innocent child? That his… infatuation with her wouldn't last?

Given how passionately she'd argued for the nobles theme he had a feeling it'd take the mother of all shocks to her system to convince her that her 'storybook romance' wouldn't last.

Willow, on the other hand, had suggested that they all dress up as various ghosts and spirits but he knew that was just because she wanted to stick with her traditional costume. Every year for as long as he could remember his best friend had always chosen to go as a ghost but it wasn't because she had a thing for ghosts. It was because the costume allowed her to hide her identity from anyone who saw her and in doing so avoid the bullies and bitches that normally harassed her at school. Neither he nor Buffy had approved of this idea on the grounds that it was too ordinary and not cool enough. He suspected that the reason Buffy had for opposing the spirit theme was the same as his: Willow needed to come out of her shell and be more confident and outgoing. As much as he reckoned the two of them understood her shyness, neither of them believed she'd get anywhere if she always hid or did her best not to be noticed.

He'd proposed a sci-fi theme but naturally this had been shot down since both Willow and Buffy had presumed that he'd choose something skintight or revealing for them to wear. They hadn't been entirely wrong. He'd tried to convince them that it'd increase the odds of them winning the prize since it was a proven fact that sex appeal got votes. Of course they'd gone on the whole feminist kick about the objectification of women and how guys did all their thinking with their dicks.

Eventually all of them had decided to table the matter until later.

Now though he had them cornered and VICTORY was within his reach.

"Xan… can't we talk things out? Compromise a little?" Willow asked, sounding like she was trying to wiggle her way out of defeat… metaphorically speaking.

"You agreed to the bet, Willow," he replied, shaking his head. "A good person holds up their end no matter what."

"C'mon, Xander!" Buffy pleaded, glancing at the three sheet test in her hands. "You wouldn't humiliate your friends, would you?"

"I know it might come as something of a surprise to you guys but men don't just think of sex and girls in bikinis. I am completely capable of picking out tasteful costumes," he replied honestly since he'd already chosen to exclude certain costume possibilities from his mind… reluctantly. "Now show me what you got on your tests."

The two of them looked at each other before slumping in defeat and turning both their tests around so that he could see what scores they'd gotten.

Buffy had managed to get a respectable B plus on her test and, much like he'd expected, Willow had managed a B plus.

Too bad it didn't trump his A plus!

"YES! YesyesyesyesyesYES!" he declared before going into the Snoopy dance, uncaring if any other student saw him do it.

Once he finished he showed them his test and the score written in red ink in the upper right hand corner, relishing in their looks of defeat. Willow held out her hand, obviously wanting to look over his test in order to ensure the accuracy of the grade. He didn't blame her, he'd been surprised himself when he'd seen it, but then again he'd put more effort into studying for this particular test than he had any previous one. He'd been determined to prove that he wasn't as limited as either of them thought and that had given him the resolve to stick to the books instead of letting the distractions get the better of him.

Now it was time to collect on their little wager.

"Let's get going!" he said as he turned halfway away from the school gate. "We've only got an hour and a half before we gotta be back here for escort duty."

"Fine! Let's get this over with," Buffy groused, clearly still expecting the worst from him in terms of costume choice.

He didn't let it get him down, though.

He'd won the bet! That was all that mattered.

With a spring in his step he led them in the direction Sunnydale's business district, where they'd found out that a new costume shop had opened and was offering great grand opening deals. He figured it was his best bet for a good deal on a decent costume especially since he could afford one now thanks to a bet he'd made with Cordelia that he could get a score of A or higher on the test. It was true that he could've roped her into the costume bet and it definitely would've been sweet but he'd decided to go with the cash reward instead. It was less likely to inspire retaliation down the line and it'd net him a better Halloween costume than the army surplus fatigues and toy gun that was his original plan. He had a few ideas about what he'd like to dress up as and one or two for both Willow and Buffy, but he'd have to wait to see what the shop had available.

It was called 'Ethan's Costume Shop' if he remembered correctly.

Ethan's Costume Shop

Willow's POV

I hope Xander doesn't get any weird ideas, she thought as she followed her best friend and Buffy through the aisles of costumes and accessories.

Sure, he'd told her and Buffy that she wouldn't go too far with his costume choices but he was a guy who currently had free reign thanks to a bet to choose anything he liked. That put an awful lot of temptation at his feet and she wasn't sure if he'd be strong enough to resist it if certain possibilities presented themselves, ones like the Princess Leia slave girl outfit, a Supergirl costume or maybe something from a TV show.

She watched him carefully as he let his eyes pass over every clothes hanger that had a costume on it, pausing at random to get a better look at one before moving on, but thus far there'd been nothing resembling a choice. To be perfectly honest it was seriously wearing down her nerves waiting for Xander to make his choice and she could see that Buffy wasn't much better off. Looking around the shop, she could see that the grand opening sales had drawn in quite the large number of people but thankfully it wasn't so packed that getting around was a problem. Considering that some of the display dummies had signs that said 'half off', she wasn't surprised that there were a lot of people looking to cash in.

These deals should help Xander, she thought as she continued to follow her friend. I know he's not exactly overflowing with money.

When five minutes had gone by she knew that Buffy was going to start asking Xander to just FIND something or else the Slayer would MAKE him choose. Fortunately something caught her best friend's eye because his gaze jerked to the left and then he picked up the pace as he crossed the room to a rack of costumes hanging next to a wall. She couldn't tell what they were at first but as she got closer a feeling of familiarity came over her first with the color combination used in the majority of the costumes, then in their layout. Even after the three of them finally arrived at their destination she couldn't quite identify them but the feeling of familiarity was maddening, like the answer was right at the tip of her tongue.

She didn't have to wait long to get what she needed to knock it off her tongue because with one quick movement Xander plucked one off the rack revealing it in all its glory.

A Starfleet uniform!

From what she could tell it looked like the red, white and black one that the original show crew wore from the second movie onwards. This one had a white strip of cloth over the right shoulder and, if she remembered correctly, this meant that it was a command division uniform. She wasn't quite sure what divisions they represented but she knew they came in white, yellow ochre, light green, grey, Windsor green and red. As for the rank insignia, she believed that it was for an admiral but she couldn't be certain since it'd been hard to see clearly with the actors moving about and the camera not focusing on them for too long. Watching as Xander held up the uniform in front of him, she tried to picture what he'd look like wearing it and she saw had her greatly favoring it.

"Lookin' good, Admiral!" she said with approval and a smile on her face.

"Admiral?" he asked taking the costume away from his body to look at the other side.

"Yeah. You see these four stars pointing to the center diamond?" she asked, pointing to the rank insignia on the white strip of cloth. "That's the same rank insignia that Kirk had on his uniform when everyone was calling him Admiral."

"Yeah, it kinda looks like that. I wasn't paying that close attention," Xander admitted, paying closer attention to the costume and no doubt consulting his memory. "I wonder what else they have here."

With that in mind Xander put the costume back on the rack before looking through the others. From what she could see there were at least eight Starfleet uniforms from the same era as the one that Xander had picked up before. After going through those she saw a few of the more modern ones from 'Star Trek: the Next Generation' and even a few from 'Star Trek: Deep Space Nine'. Some had the pips on the collar showing rank just like the Kirk era ones but not all of them. All in all they looked rather well done, quality costumes, rather than the cheap kind that were made with the intention of only lasting a few weeks of use.

It was not until Xander turned to look at her and Buffy, though, that she KNEW he'd reached a decision regarding what they would be wearing chaperoning the kids around trick or treating.

"Ladies! I have found our costumes!" he said as he flipped through the costumes before taking off one of the Kirk era costumes before giving it to her. "One captain's uniform for you, Willow. We might need Mrs. S. to make it fit right."

Holding the costume she'd been handed up to her chest, she could tell that the sleeves were a bit long and, if the pants hanging out of the bottom were anything to go by, the pant legs would need to be shortened as well. Still, she was sure that Mrs. Summers could come up with something without irreversibly changing the costume. After all it needed to be returned tomorrow and she was pretty sure that the store owner wouldn't like one of his products being changed.

"Aaaand for you, Buffy, we have a nice uniform except for you it'll be an engineer's," he said, bringing down a uniform close to hers except it had a yellow strip in place of a white one as well as a yellow undershirt. "But don't worry, you won't be answering to Willow, 'cause you'll be a captain too."

Buffy didn't look thrilled at the uniform but she didn't look like she was going to fight it either. Unfortunately, if her uniform needed modifications, then Buffy's would need some serious work making her wonder if they should inquire if it'd be possible to buy the costumes outright. On a theory she looked through the rack to see if there was an engineering vest from the Kirk era that Buffy could wear instead. She'd seen Scotty wearing one in some of the movies and, if there was one, then the Slayer could just wear one of her dark pants from home. That way they could reduce the changes needed for the costume and reduce the risk of incurring fines or whatever upon returning the outfits.

Sadly, no matter where she looked, there were only the more common uniforms you'd see in the movies or on the television shows.

"What're you lookin' for, Willow?" Xander asked with a look of mild curiosity.

"Just thought Buffy might do better if she had that vest Scotty wore but it's not here," she replied with some disappointment.

"This'll be fine and, as you can see, these aren't the least bit skanky or pervy," he said as his familiar lopsided grin appeared. "Maybe you'll remember this the next time you think my home's in the gutter."

"We're sorry and we'll remember, Xan," she said with genuine remorse even as Buffy nodded in agreement.

"Good! Now let's go find ourselves some accessories!" he said before a look of mild surprise crossed his face. "Never thought I'd say THAT. Definitely need to get some guy friends."

She couldn't help but giggle at that comment since she knew he didn't mean anything mean by it, plus she did have to admit that he spent enough time with Buffy and her that some of their tendencies had rubbed off on him. Following him through the aisles things moved a great deal quicker than before because every few steps he reached out snagging something from a bin or a box resting in a shelf. He even grabbed two wigs off a pair of Styrofoam heads arrayed all in a row to one side of the store. She thought he might've been going a little overboard but then she remembered that the bet hadn't had any stipulations regarding how far the winner could go with the costume.

In the end it took a little under ten minutes for them to finally make it to the cash register and, once the owner rang up all the items, it turned out that they all had to pool their money in order to pay for it all. Still, they had their costumes and accessories divided by bag and, if they hurried, they could get to Buffy's place, change and then get to the school before Snyder's deadline.

Thinking about what she'd seen going into her bag, she had a pretty good idea of what Xander wanted her to pretend to be, or perhaps even whom. She understood how he'd probably come up with the pairing and honestly she didn't mind it much. It was certainly better than what she figured Buffy would've made her wear if she'd won their bet. She knew that the Slayer had been set on doing something to break her out of her shell AND give her a means by which she could finally attract Xander's romantic interest. However she'd been afraid that, in the blonde's zeal, she'd wind up wearing something way too sexy or revealing since a lot of the clothes she'd seen the 'pretty girls' wear involved far too little fabric for her tastes.

A Starfleet uniform that left only what was above the neck exposed suited her just fine.

I just hope this doesn't wind up making me even more of a target for Cordelia and the Cordettes, she thought as she remembered the main reason why she preferred her ghost costume.

Summers Houshold

Buffy's POV

I guess it could've been worse, the thought morosely as she pulled the yellowish shirt over her head. Still, this is SOOO geeky.

Once the turtleneck like shirt was down she reached over for the jacket that was supposed to go on top of it and slipped it on. Of course that was when she ran into the problem of zipping it up since it wasn't designed like most of the jackets she was used to. It took some trial and error but eventually she figured out how it was supposed to be 'zipped up' and that led her to the accessories Xander had picked out.

First was a wig of red hair that reached about halfway down her back. According to Xander, the character profile he'd dreamt up needed it. Putting it on her head, she looked into her mirror to make sure it was set right on her head before she used the hair clips on the inside to secure it to her own blonde hair. She hoped that none of the kids that she'd be chaperoning around tonight got it into their heads to tug on the wig because a few blonde clumps would likely come off with it. Looking at her various haircare tools, she started doing what she could to style it a bit but stayed away from any sprays or styling gel. She had to return it tomorrow, after all, so it'd be best to return it in the same condition she received it.

There. It'd look too plain Jane on the catwalk in France but it'll do well enough for tonight, she thought, turning her head left then right to see how she'd look from both angles.

Moving onto the next part, she took a black belt with some kind of a symbol for a belt buckle off the bed and wrapped it around her waist. It had some holsters on it for the plastic ray gun and something that looked like a sci-fi cell phone. Thankfully, though, the shape of the holsters made it clear what went where so she had no trouble getting the last of her costume into place.

At least Xander didn't choose one of those short red mini-dresses they wore in the TV show, she thought, shuddering as she tried to forget how she would've looked in something like that.

Hearing footsteps coming from the bathroom, she turned to see Willow crossing the hallway to her room and what she saw made her wonder if her friend had gotten the better costume. A short black haired wig that looked neatly trimmed and groomed, extending no further down than the midpoint of the neck covered the top of her head. However the most noticeable changes from the neck up were the thick and blackened eyebrows that were upswept and the pointed ears. She might not have been a regular viewer of the Star Trek show but she could still recognize that Willow was dressed up as a member of the same race as the second in command who wore the blue shirt. The rest of the outfit was similar in appearance to her but there was also some sort of object that looked like a small purse with a strap that went around the neck. It was more of a case then a purse, though, and she'd seen how the top popped up to reveal buttons and knobs, making it clear that it was a device of some kind.

"While you wouldn't make the cover of Cosmo, this might actually succeed in hooking Xander," she said, walking around her friend and taking in the costume from all sides. "If you won't get him by wearing stuff that clings to the curves, then appealing to his inner geek is the next best thing. Play your cards right and this could work."

"I… I don't think that'd work. Vulcans don't exactly do the whole 'seduction thing'," Willow said, not sounding convinced. "Buried emotions and all that."

"Oh. Still, there's the whole 'ice queen' appeal you could make work for you," she said, not quite willing to admit defeat on the romantic front.

That included how she planned on going to the Bronze and hooking up with Angel.

She'd been so tempted to go back on the bet, since doing so would allow her to go with the costume idea she wanted. The dress of an eighteenth century noble woman would absolutely have impressed Angel, since they'd have been the sort of women he'd have been interested in when he was still human. She'd even tried to convince herself that Xander would only get her some skimpy spandex costume to wear since every guy she'd met liked seeing a girl's curves. When he chose these costumes, though, the only ammunition she'd had vanished and, not seeing a dress that fit the description she'd seen in some of the books acquired from Giles' personal library, she'd been left with no choice.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she had to admit it'd be hard to make this uniform work for her unless Angel turned out to be a closet fan of the show.

Considering his usual attire, she doubted that.

"I guess," Willow agreed, though without much enthusiasm.

"Let's go see if Xander's done," she said, deciding to move things along.

With Willow leading the way they went downstairs to where Xander was using the ground floor bathroom to change into his costume, with her mother volunteering to trim his hair a bit to make it look more militarish. Her mom had occasionally done it for her and dad but was by no means a professional at it. Still, she was confident that it wouldn't look like someone took a weed whacker to his head.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs she could hear talking coming from the kitchen and figured that Xan and her mother must have moved in there to cut the hair or put finishing touches on his costume. It didn't take her long to get within eyesight of them and she had to admit that, while still geeky, Xander looked quite handsome in the uniform. His hair didn't look too different from how it had before but it was definitely neater and looked like it'd been professionally done by a military barber.

"How do I look?" he asked, doing a quick spin so that both she and Willow could see all of him.

"Pretty good, ADMIRAL," she said, putting emphasis on his fictitious rank. "What do you think of me and Willow?"

"Well, Willow looks 'fascinating' and you look like someone who thinks 'more power' is the answer to everything," he replied with amusement.

Willow giggled a bit, obviously getting some kind of joke hidden in Xander's words, but it went right over her head.

"You all look wonderful," Mom said with a smile before moving over the kitchen counter. "Get together so I can take a picture."

"MOM!" she exclaimed with exasperation at the embarrassing idea.

"Come on! Just one," Mom said, picking up the camera that she'd obviously put there for this purpose. "Please!"

Rolling her eyes and sighing, she nodded in concession before taking up a picture worthy position next to Willow, allowing Xander to take the other side. With a smile that was only a little forced she waited for the camera flash and tried to keep her eyes from squinting when it did light up, since it was an automatic response to a bright light in the eyes. Her mother snuck in another picture before she could stop her but a sour look prevented any more freebies.

"See ya later, Mom." she said as she led the Scoobies towards the front door.

"Remember to be back by ten," Mom said at their retreating backs. "And try not to get into any trouble!"

"YES, MOM!" she yelled, only partially turning her head to look at her mother.

If she only knew that, while she obeyed curfew, she left through the bedroom window the second it was safe for her to do so without being spotted. However, just the same she'd probably obey her mother just this once since, according to Giles, Halloween was dead for the undead and there'd likely be no reason for her patrol. Stepping out of the house, she immediately wished that the costume was made out of lighter material because it definitely wasn't made with Californian weather in mind. Sure, things would get easier once the sun went down but it'd still be pretty hot and she'd still be pretty sweaty by the time she came home.

Sweat was definitely not going to help her chances with Angel later, so as soon as she finished with her group of kids to fend off Snyder she'd have to race home, shower and then get to the Bronze. She knew the club had air conditioning so, once she got inside, she'd be problem free when it came to spending some quality time with Angel.

Something to look forward to, she thought as they began to make their way down the street towards the school.

Xander's POV

Well, this wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be, he thought as he waited for the kids in his group to come back from the latest house on the route they took.

He'd been expecting bratty kids doing their best to drive him up a wall or make it harder for him to make sure they all got back to the school by six like principal Snyder wanted. Instead they'd been mostly compliant with only a few annoying moments, but that'd been more due to their parents' upbringing making them think they had to antagonize 'geeks'. Fortunately, once he began teaching them the finer points of sleazing as much candy as possible from each house, they quickly forgot about making fun of him. Looking at the watch beneath his right sleeve, he could see that they had a little over half an hour before they had to be back at the school.

Two more houses and then we'll head back.

It was just as he heard the pitter-patter of elementary school feet he suddenly felt an oddness in the air that immediately had him on edge. It wasn't quite 'someone walking on your grave' or 'being watched by something unknown' but rather the sensation you got just before something BIG happened to change your life. He'd just decided to take the kids to hook up with Buffy and Willow's group to see if they'd felt the same thing when he saw someone that had him wondering if he'd inhaled some kind of hallucinogen.

After all, he couldn't be seeing John de Lancie in a Starfleet uniform waving at him like he was going away on some trip and the guy was wishing him a fond farewell.

Then disorientation overwhelmed him making all sensory input and even coherent thought a mess.

What happened next, though… it was weird even for Sunnydale.

"How…?" he whispered as he looked about the place where he found himself.

It was definitely different from where he'd been a moment ago.

The last thing he could recall he'd been aboard his ship, surrounded by shipmates that had been to hell and back with him. They'd just received orders from Starfleet Command to return to Spacedock so that the ship could be decommissioned, after which each of them would be reassigned to whatever post needed someone. For him… for him it was the end of a long and joyous career with the Fleet. Oh, he was sure that he could get posted someplace prestigious for another ten to twenty years but that wasn't the life he wanted to lead. He'd lived the life of a bureaucrat once before and never before had he been so certain that the place he wanted to be, the place where he could make the most difference, was in the captain's chair aboard a starship.

He'd retire once the last of his business was finished, then maybe find a hobby or something to fill his time with. He'd heard and seen plenty of things during the course of his life in Starfleet. He'd been sure that he could find something fulfilling and interesting enough to keep boredom at bay.

He hadn't expected to suddenly find himself… wherever here was.

From what he could tell by the plants and the stars overhead it looked as though he was on Earth but there was a lot that was off for him. The transports he could see lining either side of the road were centuries out of date, pre-eugenics war if his guess was right, and the lights also didn't match what had been common for anyone living on Earth. The biggest difference was that, last he checked, none of the little creatures running around matched alien races that'd chosen to make the seat of the Federation their home. Seeing a group of them aggressively approaching him, he immediately pulled his type two phaser pistol from its holster, setting it to stun, and then taking aim. He waited to see if the presence of a weapon would be enough to discourage the group from getting any closer. Unfortunately they were either not intelligent enough to recognize it as a threat or believed that they could overcome him despite it.

Aiming for the street a little ahead of them he fired a single shot, hoping that the energy from the discharge would prove more intimidating than the phaser pistol itself. Seeing them leap back in shock before scrambling away to likely find easier prey, he found his hunch rewarded but he still kept his weapon out of its holster just the same. Until he had a better idea of where he was and what was going on, he had to keep his guard up.

Taking his communicator out, flipping it open, he activated it. "Kirk to Enterprise."

Nothing.

"This is Admiral Kirk calling Enterprise. Respond, please," he said after adjusting the settings a little bit.

Nothing.

Either the ship was out of range, its communications systems offline, or… it'd been destroyed somehow. He rejected the last possibility because, despite the beating Enterprise had taken destroying the prototype Klingon Bird of Prey, it had still been fit for battle. With years of experience under their belt it'd take something or someone far superior to them or the Enterprise to destroy them. Therefore, until he had proof to the contrary, he'd assume that the Enterprise was still there but incapable of being communicated with for the time being. Adjusting the settings on the communicator he decided to try something else in order to see if he'd have better luck.

"This is Admiral James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise to any Starfleet personnel who can hear me. Please respond."

"Captain Scott here, Admiral," came a female voice with strong Scottish accent. "Though I appear to be a wee bit different from what I should be."

"Captain Spock here, Admiral," came another female voice devoid of emotion and sounding very logical. "If my hypothesis is correct I am experiencing a similar change to Mister Scott. It is fascinating."

He couldn't help but smile at that two of his longtime comrades had joined him and that they apparently had been turned into women. He looked forward to seeing the bodies that matched the voices to see if there were any similarities when compared to their male bodies.

"Lieutenant Commander Zanya Troi here as well, Admiral," came an unfamiliar female voice with the tone of a Starfleet officer. "Do you have any idea how we got here?"

"Not at the moment but if we could regroup and compare experiences, we might be able to come up with some answers," he replied, thinking better of his odds with another person to work with. "I'm activating my communicator's homing beacon."

"We'll be there as quick as we can, Admiral," Scotty said with optimism in his voice.

Spock and Lieutenant Commander Troi said much the same before severing communications, so he shut his communicator and kept an eye out for either them or trouble. He couldn't see everything since the light from the streetlights only extended so far but he felt confident that, unless something with a long range weapon took a disliking to him, he'd have little trouble holding this position.

While he waited, he pondered the situation to try and figure out what had happened to them as well as how they could return to where they belonged. The transition between when he'd been aboard the Enterprise and finding himself in the middle of a street on historic Earth had been instantaneous. That meant that drugs were unlikely since even the most potent ones generally gave a person at least a second or two to realize that something was wrong before losing consciousness. His repeated experience with a Vulcan nerve pinch made it a possibility since he knew that, once a Vulcan performed it, you were out like a light. However, to his knowledge, none of the Vulcans that had been on the bridge at that time had been anywhere near him before the transition. Spock also hadn't warned him of any spatial anomalies or energy distortion fields in the minutes leading up to the transition.

The more he thought about it, the more questions that popped up and the fewer answers his mind was able to come up with.

It was a few minutes before he heard the familiar sound of Starfleet regulation boots on a stone surface but, when he turned, he beheld a sight that would make this an experience to remember. Walking towards him was a black haired Vulcan female a little under five and a half feet tall wearing a captain's uniform. Looking at her face, he could see the usual Vulcan serenity but, aside from that, very few features reminded him of his second in command and longtime friend. Still, it looked like wherever she'd been taken from she'd been given the standard away team gear, including a tricorder that'd be useful in learning more about their present situation.

"Any trouble getting here, Spock?" he asked once his second-in-command reached him.

"A few unidentified nonhumans attempted to assault me but I was able to discourage them by firing my phaser along their path of approach," Spock replied with a voice that wasn't his but with all of the inflections and speech patterns that did belong to him. "It proved quite effective."

"Yes, I had the same problem soon after I found himself here," he said, glad to see that they wouldn't have to use lethal force to protect themselves from any hostile life forms. "Have you had any luck learning more about our new surroundings?"

"Based on visible star constellations, the atmospheric contents of this world and the level of technological development, I believe we are in the late nineteen nineties on Earth," she replied as professionally as any officer giving a report. "More precisely we are on the west coast of the North American continent."

"Yet it doesn't look like post Eugenics War America," he said, casting his gaze about. "This soon after Khan left Earth there would've still been American soldiers patrolling for any Augments that went into hiding."

"Indeed. Tricorder readings also do not detect any particulates or residue consistent with the weapons used during the war," Spock said, showing him the display screen of the tricorder so he could see the recorded readings. "Technological innovations brought about by the Eugenics War are also absent."

"Could history have been altered somehow?" he asked, pondering possible explanations. "That would explain the differences."

"A temporal restructuring would account for the deviations I have located but it would not explain our relocation to this point in time," Spock replied after only a few moments consideration. "It would be far more likely that our own pasts would have been rewritten to reflect the changes in the timeline and we would never realize that 'reality' had not always been as we remembered."

"Alternate reality then?" he proposed since that too would explain the differences.

"A plausible explanation but I will require more information before I can confirm it." Spock replied before turning off his tricorder.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, wondering if there were any differences there. "The last thing I remember was being on Enterprise after we'd been told that the Enterprise would be decommissioned."

"My last memories were likewise of that moment," she replied, looking like she was considering something. "I would not be surprised to discover that Captain Scott was also relocated from that moment in time."

"And Lieutenant Commander Troi?" he asked, wondering about the unknown officer.

"I cannot speculate on her temporal origin with the current amount of information," Spock replied with a speculative rising of one eyebrow.

"Have you tried making contact with any ships that could be in orbit?" he asked, wondering if his communicator had just been damaged to the point where only surface based communication was possible.

"I have made the attempt but received no reply," she replied, almost sounding concerned. "However I believe I may be able to use my tricorder to increase my communicator's range as well as alternative frequencies."

"As soon as Scotty and Lieutenant Commander Troi get here, we'll find a defensible location," he said, formulating a course of action. "You can work on modifying your communicator then."

"Understood," she said before joining him in taking a defensible position.

While he knew that displacing humanoids was different from displacing a starship the size of the Enterprise, he still believed he'd feel more comfortable dealing with the situation in familiar surroundings.

Plus he knew that when they got back, internal investigations would lecture him if he violated the Prime Directive by remaining on this Earth's surface too long.

That was something he definitely wanted to avoid if at all possible.

They likely had similar thoughts concerning him.

The Streets of Sunnydale

Captain Scott's POV

"Och! I dunnae know whuts worse," she said as they continued to try and find a place they could hide in until they had a better idea of what to do. "Losing my banger for a set of diddles or shrinking until I'm only a little bigger than a bloody leprechaun."

"It could be worse, Scotty," Admiral Kirk said, glancing at him as they walked. "You could've been turned into a dog."

"Aye, sir," she said, conceding that being turned into an animal would've been worse.

Still she hoped they found a way to get back to normal soon because, as much as an insight as this was when it came to women, she had no desire for it to be permanent.

"I believe I have located an appropriate structure, Admiral," Spock said, sounding decidedly less off put about the gender change than she was. "There are no life forms present inside, nor are there any in the surrounding structures. If we are careful we should be able to enter unseen and, once inside, Mister Scott and I can begin making the proposed modifications."

She'd heard what Mister, or should that be Miss, now, Spock had planned and she was fully willing to add her engineering skills to the man's scientific knowledge. Like most of the others he'd made an attempt with his own communicator to see if there was a ship in orbit but had received no reply to confirm there was one. Only one of them hadn't made the attempt, though, that was because Lieutenant Commander Troi had lost her communicator in a scuffle. Imagine his surprise when he found out that the lass's communicator was the size of the decorative Starfleet insignia on her uniform. Her uniform was also unusual, consisting of a long sleeved shirt that somewhat clung to the body, along with pants and what looked to be a variation of standard Starfleet boots. It was primarily black in color but with the color blue covering the chest, back and sleeves. With her dark brown hair done up in a mostly intact bun, she looked quite beautiful.

The fact that she'd thanked him before explaining that she was a Betazoid telepath didn't stop him or the others from monitoring their thoughts closer from that point on. Admiral Kirk though had reminded the Lieutenant Commander of Starfleet regulations regarding using telepathic powers on another sentient being without permission. The young woman had apologized but said that her aunt had never been one to show restraint with her telepathy and, sadly, that bad habit had rubbed off on her a bit.

He had a feeling that the lass had a knack for understatement.

"I can confirm that the house is empty," Lieutenant Commander Troi said after focusing on the building for a few seconds. "I can't detect any minds inside."

"Then let's get going before we're seen," Kirk said as the four of them quickly made their way across the street from their place of cover behind a wooden fence.

Once they were up the front steps and in front of the door, he watched as Miss Spock adjusted the settings on her phaser before using it on the locking mechanism. With a barely audible click and the turning of the doorknob they were inside the house. Looking about, it reminded her a bit of her sister's home minus the bits of technology that were commonplace all over Earth. It was oddly… comforting. It made her feel safe. They moved into what was probably the living room before Miss Spock knelt down next to a table to begin modifying the communicator.

"If'n you don't mind, Admiral, I think I'll take a wee look about to make sure we won't be disturbed," she said, figuring she'd give the half-Vulcan first crack at the communicator.

"Be careful," Admiral Kirk said with a nod of his head.

"I always am," she said, taking out her phaser and setting it to stun.

With that in mind she decided to check the rear of the house first since, unless they wound up being attacked by monkeys, most of the troublemakers would come at them from ground level. However she was halfway to what looked like the kitchen where the back door was located when a picture hanging on the wall came into view. What she saw made him wonder if they weren't receiving a little bit of help because in the picture was a lass that looked remarkably like her current female form. The main differences between them were that this new body had longer hair and it was red whereas the girl in the picture had shorter hair and it was blonde. After she'd arrived in the town she'd managed to get a look at her new form by looking at her reflection in one of the old vehicles' windows.

"Admiral!" she yelled as loud as she dared without risking being heard by someone outside.

Seconds later Jim was next to him and a few seconds later realized what had his attention.

"Spock? You might want to come see this," Kirk said with a look that implied he knew how important this development.

This led to both the half-Vulcan and Lieutenant Troi arriving together but they managed to pick up on what was so important rather quickly.

"Fascinating," Miss Spock said before taking the picture off the wall. "Our original hypothesis was that we had been displaced from our native reality and for some reason I and Captain Scott had our genders altered. This picture, however, implies the possibility that we have in fact possessed four of the native inhabitants of this reality."

"Possession? This isn't some fairy tale, Spock," Kirk said, sounding a little skeptical of the new theory.

"I will admit it is improbable, Admiral, but empirical evidence supports it nevertheless." Spock said before putting the picture back on the wall.

"Then we'd better hope that there really is a ship up there," she said as he imagined trying to solve their problem with just away team equipment. "I dunnae like our chances with whatever we c'n get our hands on doon here."

"Agreed," Kirk said with a nod. "Go help Spock with the modifications. Lieutenant Troi and I will continue securing the house."

"Aye, Admiral," she said before following the Vulcan-Human hybrid back to the living room.

Sitting down next to the table that had the tricorder and communicator on it, she went through her pockets, finding the assortment of tools she'd kept with her at all times when she'd been in her male body. Spreading them out on the table's surface, she took the communicator and removed the top half of the outer casing in order to access the circuitry inside. With Spock working on the tricorder, she had high hopes that they'd be able to complete the modifications in record time. For her it was a simple matter of altering the transceiver components so that they could tap into more frequencies and then making the needed changes to boost the signal strength. It'd take components from both the tricorder and the communicator to make it work but it'd be awhile before she'd need anything from the former.

Minutes passed as she worked but she glanced up when Kirk and Lieutenant Troi went up the stairs to secure the windows there. It was catching a glimpse of the lass' face that made him wonder if the infamous Kirk luck wasn't about to come into play. It was something that many crew members of the USS Enterprise had noticed after a year or so of Jim Kirk becoming the captain: if it was humanoid, female and attractive, then it was a safe bet that their captain would spend 'quality time' with her. Oh, the man never got involved with a member of his own crew, Starfleet regulations prohibited it, after all, but that meant that any guests or women not specifically assigned to the Enterprise were fair game. Eventually some of the other engineers had gotten it into their heads to start a betting pool about how long it'd take before the first kiss, the first make out session or even when the woman would wind up in the captain's bed.

She hadn't discouraged the practice since she hadn't seen the harm in it but she had mentioned to a few of the more loose lipped ones that they should exercise a little discretion with who they chose to involve in their wagering. After all, if it got back to the captain, he might take offense and in all the years that followed, if Jim had ever caught onto how people were placing bets on his intimate encounters, he'd never mentioned it. As the man had gotten older the romantic encounters tapered off as the number of people in his age group he'd be interested in dwindled, until he felt it safe to say that only Carol Marcus might've had the chance to become Mrs. Kirk.

Well, I suppose every man deserves one last roll in the hay before walking his lass down the aisle, she thought before focusing on her work.

It just wasn't proper to be too interested in another man's personal affairs.

Captain Spock's POV

"I imagine this'll make for quite the report when we get back home," Miss Scott commented as they finished the necessary preparation work to begin modifying the communicator.

"Indeed. To my knowledge an incident of psionic dimensional displacement and organic possession has never been recorded before," she said as she began to use the tools available to establish connections where there were none before. "When a more opportune time presents itself, I will attempt to mentally compose my report."

Now was not the time, though.

They were in an environment that they were only academically familiar with and the threat of several unknown alien species lay just outside the dwelling they had chosen as their hiding place. While the building appeared to be of solid construction, there was no guarantee that it would prove to be enough to keep the potential hostiles at bay. Without scientifically establishing the capabilities of the nonhumans outside, being over reliant on the structure to defend them would be strategically unsound. Therefore they had two options: the first would be to relocate to a safer location or determine a means by which they could terminate the dimensional displacement of their minds. The first was feasible but dangerous since they were unfamiliar with the town and did not know where a safer structure could be located. The second, however, was less likely since their limited resources did not allow for a thorough examination of the environment or any reference material that they could utilize to better understand the situation.

Fortunately their present course of action promised the most beneficial outcome.

If there was a ship in orbit and they could contact it, they might gain access to tools and information they were familiar with increasing the odds of success.

"If we are able to successfully determine a means of returning to our native dimension, we will have to ensure that any technology that has manifested with us will be destroyed," she said as she tested a connection to ensure viability before moving onto the next one.

"Ya think they'll stay after we go?" Miss Scott asked, sounding as though she only partially believed it'd happen.

"It is a possibility," she replied, continuing her work. "It is also a risk we cannot afford to take. The Prime Directive forbids interfering with the natural evolution of a pre-warp species."

"It's not our reality and the last time I checked, no one back home can punch holes between dimensions," Miss Scott said, sounding like she wished to explore the possibilities more. "If none of us say anythin', they won't be any the wiser."

"Regardless of whether or not Starfleet possesses the ability to learn of our violation of the Prime Directive, we are still Starfleet officers. We swore an oath to uphold its standards and regulations," she said, pointing out their obligations. "To knowingly leave behind technology that violated that oath would betray who we are."

She could see that her point had produced the desired effect on the engineer and, when no further counterparts were voiced, she judged the debate was concluded.

Minutes passed without incident but, just when she was able to finish the last stage of the modifications, her sense of hearing detected sounds of activity coming from the rear entrance of the home. Careful examination of the sounds indicated that someone or something was attempting to unlock the door, perhaps in an effort to gain entry. With a look at Miss Scott she rose from her sitting position, taking her phase out of its holster and preparing to use it just in case the unknown was a threat. She moved to investigate the noises, she sensed Miss Scott falling in behind her, weapon drawn most likely, so she made a few gestures for the engineer to take up a concealed position just outside the kitchen. Once she had direct line of sight on the rear door of the house she could see a humanoid form working on the doorknob, confirming that it was attempting to circumvent the lock. Confirming that her phaser was set to stun, she waited to see if the unknown would succeed in gaining entry or if the primitive lock would be beyond its ability to overcome.

The click she heard a moment later indicated it was the former.

Watching as the door opened, she saw that the humanoid appeared to be a human male in his late twenties, with dark hair dressed in equally dark clothing.

"Stop where you are," she ordered, causing the new arrival to immediately look in her direction.

She could see a look of recognition in his eyes, implying that he knew the host body she was possessing and the surprise that followed indicated that it was not common for the host to behave as she was at the moment.

"Willow?" the man asked, sounding like he wanted to confirm what he was seeing.

"If you are referring to the owner of the body I am inhabiting, then I regret to inform you that she is not available at the moment," she replied, making sure to evaluate every aspect of his reaction.

Her statement had caused him to raise his guard but that was an understandable reaction when dealing with an unknown individual.

"Who are you?" the man asked in a manner that indicated that, if a response did not come quickly enough, suspicion would increase.

"I am Captain Spock of Starfleet," she replied before choosing to ask a question of her own. "Who are you?"

"My name's Angel. I'm a friend of Willow's," 'Angel' replied cautiously but honestly.

"Do you know anything of the phenomena that has brought us here?" she asked on the off chance that the man knew something of the situation that she did not.

"Only that it's complete chaos out there," he replied, sounding worried about the state of things out there. "I've seen people I know are fictional running around but there are also people that don't seem to be affected by whatever's going on."

Interesting.

The fact that whatever was going on only affected a section of the town's population implied that there was some factor that caused the phenomena to specifically target them. While it was too early to be certain, it did provide a clue as to what might have caused the phenomena in the first place.

Clearly this bore further investigation.

"Do you have any theories as to the source of this phenomena?" she asked in order to see if she could learn more.

"Not really. It's Halloween and that's usually the one night of the year when nothing happens," he replied, sounding puzzled concerning the deviation.

"Is it plausible that the local citizenry have been transformed because of the costumes they wore?" she asked, looking for confirmation of a theory that was forming in her mind.

"Maybe. On the Hellmouth just about anything's possible," he replied, thinking on the matter for a few moments. "It'd certainly explain some of the things I saw out there."

"Do you know where they might have acquired these costumes?" she asked in an effort to narrow down the locations to investigate.

"Party Town is one place and I think I heard of another opening up in the last few weeks but I don't know its name," he replied, sounding like he was catching on to her train of thought.

While both would likely need to be investigated, the latter sounded as though it would be a more likely source for the phenomena. If 'Party Town' had been the source then it was probable that something similar would have happened before now. A new arrival, however, was suspicious.

Hearing Admiral Kirk and Lieutenant Commander Troi coming down the stairs, she decided it would be best of they didn't jump to conclusions. From how he'd behaved thus far she did not believe that 'Angel' to be hostile since none of the body language associated with human deception or hostility had manifested during their conversation. Also given the fact that the man appeared to be more familiar with the town than the four of them increased the probability of finding the source of the phenomena as soon as possible.

"The upstairs of the house is secure," Admiral Kirk said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. "How're the modifications to the communicator coming along?"

"They are proceeding within expected parameters," the replied as she put her phaser back into its holster. "However there have been some new developments you should be aware of."

She could tell right when he saw Angel because the footsteps stopped.

"I can see that," Kirk said, sounding minimally amused.

It would be interesting to see if the new information altered the Admiral's plan.