She was never the pretty one or the funny one or the athletic one. She had three older sisters who filled those roles perfectly. She was the strange one. After three blonde haired blue eyed girls, Sarah's parents welcomed a baby girl with mousy brown hair and flat green eyes. She liked to think they were so disappointed with her that they stopped having children. "No more," she imagined her mother saying. "Not when we could bring another thing like that into the world." It's not that her parents treated her any differently for being a plain, socially inept jane but she saw the looks of disappointment when she elected to stay in her room with her plants instead of joining some school activity. It used to kill her when she was a sixteen but after joining Starfleet most of her feelings of inadequacy dissipated.

In Starfleet, everyone was weird. Normal people don't go into outer space. For the fist time in her life, Sarah was surrounded by like-minded individuals who would rather talk about sex pollen from the far reaches of the galaxy than what hairstyle was in that week. When almost the entire graduating class was wiped out by Romulans, she felt like a part of her had died. The Enterprise had a way of filling that void but sometimes she found herself staring at a frond with tears streaming down her face for no good reason. Lieutenant Singh would pass her a tissue and she'd keep going.

She had no delusions about shooting through the ranks and getting her own command. She never wanted that. She wasn't meant for the schmoozing required for promotions. Maybe one day she would have her own lab and her own staff but she was content working under Singh and learning as much as possible.

When Commander Spock put her on the landing party for Arvada II, she could barely keep her feet on the ground. Finally, a class M planet with an abundance of plant life and no pesky intelligent life forms. This was precisely why she enlisted.

Sarah and the away team spent two delightful Earth hours gathering samples and taking tricorder readings. She was bent over a particularly interesting flower when the unthinkable happened—the flower performed the plant equivalent of coming all over her face. When the pollen was flying toward her she knew she would become a very interesting case study for all of the cadets back in San Francisco. Then she promptly passed out.

She woke up later in the sick bay. Dr. McCoy was standing over with a wide grin on his face. "Hello, sunshine."

"Uh... hi."

"That was some spectacular diagnostic work you did there."

"What?"

"I have never seen a comatose patient yell out the cause of their affliction and how to cure it. Amazing."

"I got hit..."

"You came up with a cure that I wouldn't have even thought of. And I'm conscious!"

"You seem happy. It's scary."

"Well, it's not everyday you meet the brightest mind in medicine."

"I'm a botanist, not a doctor."

"You fooled me. You're cleared for active duty. Go on, get."

She walked out of med bay and headed straight for the lab. That pollen was obviously interfering with her mental capacities. Perhaps it made her temporarily psychic and thus able to read McCoy's mind about the diagnosis. That certainly was a viable option.

She was halfway to the turbolift when a guy who likes to visit the botany bay sometimes—Solo? Sala? Sulu?--gets down on one knee and proposes marriage.

"Sarah Brown, you are the most beautiful, intelligent, helpful, caring--"

"Is this a joke?" She looked up to see if there was a bucket of pig's blood hanging over her head.

"How could I joke about how much I love you? You are the stars of my sky, the jellyfish of my ocean, the trees--"

"Vhat do you zink you're doink?" some blond kid she had never met before yelled as he stormed down the hallway. "Sarah loves me, not you!"

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am ze future fazzer of your children. Vill you marry me?"

"No!" Sulu screamed.

The two strangers were soon engaged in hand to hand combat.

"Guys! Stop it! I don't even know you! You're being stupid!"

The two men stopped and looked at each other, passion smoldering in their eyes.

"She's right, Pavel."

"I am?" She wasn't used to hearing that.

"The only reason you and I are fighting over her—besides her radiant smile—is our love for each other. We were too scared to admit it to ourselves but Sarah has shown us that we don't need to be afraid."

"I did?"

"I love you, Pasha."

"I love you, Hikarushka."

And then they started making out.

"I'm just gonna..." She edged her way to the turbolift and headed to engineering. Perhaps there was a transporter error. That had to be it. Pollen alone couldn't make people act that crazy.

As usual, engineering was in a state of chaos. Wrenches, tribbles, and Scottish curse words flew through the air.

"I cannae do it, sir! We're putting her out-- That's a brilliant plan, Brown!"

"I didn't say anything. I'm pretty sure I've never said anything to you ever."

"Of course! Reroute the matter/anti-matter through the coil! Perfect! Ensign Brown, you're the best engineer I've ever known."

"But I didn't..."

"You just saved the ship! This is no time to be modest, lass."

"Okay... I'm gonna... um... Yeah." And with that she left for the bridge.

Something was deeply wrong. People kept thinking she said things she didn't, boys we're noticing her, and she apparently was a genius at everything. She needed to see Mr. Spock. He was the only logical person left on board.

When Sarah entered the bridge, Spock took one look at her and said, "Nyota, I regret to inform you that I am terminating a relationship because I am in love with the Captain."

"Oh, good. I would have been mad but that Orion love poem Sarah just recited made me realize that I'm in love with Scotty."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You are correct, Ensign Brown, love is a battlefield." Spock walked over to the command chair and sat on the Captain's lap. Sarah doesn't like to think about what happened next between the two officers.

"Well, I'm off to engineering to boff Scotty in a Jeffries tube," Lieutenant Uhura said walking to the turbolift.

"Have fun!" Kirk called. Spock would have said something but his mouth was otherwise occupied.

"What the hell is happening?" Sarah shrieked.

"In the Vulcan equivalent of the Kama Sutra, this position is called the flying monkey."

"I could have gone my entire life without know that." She stormed off the bridge and toward her quarters.

After inexplicably solving thirty ship problems and hooking up at least fifty couples, Sarah was safely inside her room. She vigorously washed the pollen of her face and took no less than twenty sonic showers. She collapsed on her bed and did not wake up for a long time.

For the second time in as many days, Sarah awoke to Dr. McCoy's smiling face. "You caused quite a bit of trouble, missy."

"That was real?"

"Yep."

"Spock and the Captain really...?"

"Yep. And half the ship did the same thing. You also managed to make our engines twice as efficient and the replicators three times as accurate."

"Is it over? Did it wear off?"

"Yep."

"Oh, God. Everyone's gonna be so pissed at me for making them go at it."

"Actually everyone you hooked up appears incredibly happy. Apparently they'd been wanting to do that for some time. Some folks are wishing you'd do it again."

"No! That was... I saw... Do you know there's a Vulcan Kama Sutra?"

"You poor child. I'll put it in my report that no one should ever go down to that planet again. It's psychologically dangerous."

Sarah stared off into the distance, pictures of various crew member boinking flashing through her mind. "What has been seen... cannot be unseen."

"Would you like a lollypop?"

"Yes, please."