A/N: Here it is: The final installment to Out of Time and Secrets. Every great franchise comes in 3's- Lord of the Rings, Mad Max, The Matrix, Indiana Jones (if you don't count the last abysmal attempt). Star Wars was so good, they did 2 trilogies!

The crew has been called back to duty from a 48 hour shore leave for your pleasure and hopefully this one may address some anxieties you all had during Secrets. If not, I make no apologies for not being a romance writer. However, I still like to hear from you and share your pain!

This is the last time. I swear. I really mean it.

Chapter 1- Bad News

Time does heal all wounds and for the members of the away team that had faced a life of servitude to the Queen and her Amazons, the rate of progress could be measured by the growth of hair. Jim's dirty blonde locks had almost been restored to their full luster, although it was still a bit shorter than he liked it. McCoy decided to keep his somewhat short and messy, but he swore it was a matter of convenience. Everyone else on the ship thought it was because I once told him that the look suited him very well. Sulu kept his hair shaved for awhile, but in the end gave up and was letting it grow out again. But then again, vanity was never really his issue and he took the whole experience as an opportunity to try on different looks as one would clothes.

I had talked to Sulu a few times after his initial checkup, but it never really amounted to anything. It was most definitely enlightening, however, as he shared his family history and we would discuss a wide variety of topics from the role of the Samurai in feudal Japan to the impact of trade with the Western world on Asian culture. I found him, as Spock would say, fascinating in the breadth and depth of his knowledge. Because he kept to himself, not many knew of his incredible curiosity about history, physics, art, and any other number of things. In short, he had an almost insatiable appetite for an intimate understanding of the world around him and I found it very familiar because I had been the same in college. It seemed I had too many interests; medicine, physics, astronomy, religions, it just never ended. I saw the world as one huge interconnected mass of information and I tried to understand it as a whole from as many different approaches as I could. What else could be expected from a person from early in "The Information Revolution" as they called the time period of the late 20th and early 21rst century? It seemed he never grew tired of asking me what it was like to live back then and I gladly indulged him.

Even McCoy was starting to resemble something of his old self, which not everyone on board particularly viewed as a good thing. His mood improved markedly after he resumed his duties in sickbay- 4 days earlier than he was supposed to. But as he predicted, no one had the balls to call Security. He may not have liked it, but he was a professional and knew his limitations. He knew he wasn't yet ready to perform operations, so he postponed all non-life threatening procedures and closely supervised an intern when a scientist required his appendix removed immediately. For the most part, he did routine examinations and even some of the nurse's work mostly in an attempt to again feel useful, but it worked and the mental weather changed from thunderstorms to overcast. No one could ever hope for sunny from him, he was never anything other than partly cloudy at best.

Jim was……well, Jim. The never ending tug of will continued as I walked the fine line of pushing him to tell me more because he was at least open to the concept of therapy, and giving him space because if I went to hard too fast he would likely dig his heels in like an obstinate mule. Like it or not, he was leading the dance and if he preferred to sit this one out there really wasn't much I could do but sit with him and drink the punch he had no doubt spiked earlier until he was again ready to take another spin.

Time does heal wounds, but sometimes it can tear open new ones in odd and surprising ways. And so it was when I got a page in the afternoon in sickbay from Jim who wanted to see me on the bridge. McCoy continued going through his paperwork and barely raised an eyebrow when I acknowledged it. Something was rotten in Denmark. It wasn't like McCoy to not have some snide remark or worry that Jim was embarking on yet another half-baked scheme. Instead, he continued his task with an impassively blank expression. He must have been taking lessons from Spock, which concerned me even more. I should have never told him how I could read him….

I greeted Uhura when I entered the bridge even though I had just seen her at lunch. Jim got up from his chair and smiled, but there was just a hint of reticence in his blue eyes that sent up a red flag. Whatever it was that he wanted, I was almost sure not to like it. "Spock, you have the con." He stated pointing at the half-Vulcan. I may have been paranoid, but even Spock seemed as though he knew something about whatever was going on. His eyes looked as though he may have felt sorry for me and it was truly disturbing.

We had a seat in the conference room and he leaned forward with his elbows on the table with a heavy sigh. "Collins," he started slowly, "I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but we kind of have a problem." I couldn't begin to imagine what I had done to cause any trouble. He sat back in his chair and continued. "It is kind of my fault that this happened, and a small bit yours….hell it really wasn't anyone's fault, it is just one of those things." He said waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, Starfleet read my report on the whole Amazon thing and they contacted me this morning because they wanted to give you a commendation for bravery, but lo and behold if you are the ship's counselor who is not a commissioned officer or has a license to practice from Starfleet Medical. I just knew this would come back to bite me in the ass."

I sat up in my chair and swallowed. "So, are you asking me to resign?" I asked tentatively.

"No, I have to ask you to do something much worse." He replied quietly biting his lip. "I am asking you to join Starfleet, get certified, and become a commissioned officer."

I thought he was joking, so I scoffed. "I am too old for that, Jim. Christ, I would be pushing 40 when I got out!"

"Not really." He answered again leaning forward. "I pulled some strings along with Bones and with a glowing recommendation from Spock as a sponsor and former instructor, we can get you through in about 18 weeks. Bones called in some favors at Medical so you can take refresher courses and the exam via subspace link to get you license in about 12 weeks."

"And the other six?" I asked dreading the answer I just knew he would give.

"Will be spent at the Academy in San Francisco in officer's training." He admitted drumming his fingers on the table.

"Boot camp, Jim?" I whined.

"Hey, it is an accelerated program meant for people who are already enlisted, but I can get you in. Hell, Bones did it when he was your age, it is possible. He will probably tell you it sucked, but it is possible." He smirked. So that was why he was so silent, he knew about this all along. "I know this is probably not what you saw yourself doing, but it is the best I can do. I won't lie to you, it will be hard. But I hope that you will consider it because I know you love your job and I think I can speak for the whole ship when I saw that we want you around too. When you get back you will be better, stronger, faster, and a full ranking member of the best crew in Starfleet!" He was being sarcastic, but at least a part of him truly believed it.

I was miserable. I never wanted to join the military. All the pointless orders and the yelling and screaming in your face just never made sense to me and I couldn't imagine doing it even if it was only for 6 weeks. However, I did want to keep my job and stay with the crew who had become my family. This was never the path I would have imagined for myself, but then again there really wasn't anything predictable about my life. "Fine." I whispered in defeat.

"Great!" Jim exclaimed beaming. "I know you can do it, Collins. I'll have Bones get you set up on the classes ASAP." Joy.

As I was leaving, Spock looked at the large grin on the Captain's face and then to me. In his own restricted style, his eyes reflected a sense of pride as he gave a very small congratulatory nod. It was then that I realized the implications of my decision. I could no longer stand on the outside and operate. Once I did this, my relationships with the members of the crew would change to reflect protocol and procedure. That made me very sad to think that they may no longer view me as a safe, neutral, harmless ally and instead see me as just part of the Starfleet machine: another layer of bureaucracy to be navigated, another person to salute, more red tape to entangle them.

When I got back to sickbay, McCoy knowingly smirked at me and gave me a mock salute. I fell into my chair feeling despondent. "Come on, now." He gently scolded with the exaggerated accent I usually found amusing. "It can't be all that bad. Hell, if I did it mostly drunk and pissed off at the ex and Jim as a roommate you can too."

I smiled faintly at his challenges. If he somehow managed to survive being in close proximity with Jim for three years given his penchant for attracting trouble like a magnet, then that was alone a great challenge and truly some feat of skill or luck. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed, "I can do the academics. I might even miraculously survive the boot camp, but I just don't think I am military officer material."

McCoy got up and leaned against my desk with his arms folded and wore a deep scowl. "You are, you just don't know it yet." He said gruffly. "You went out there in that airlock with no regard for your own life to save another's. You came marching down to the surface and took down the Queen like General Patton with better strategy and fortitude than I have seen from some Admirals. I saw it in Jim when I met him on the shuttle and I see it in you. You are a natural, Collins."

"Please don't compare me to Jim." I laughed. "I have nowhere near his ability or luck."

"Maybe not, but you have something he doesn't: common sense." He reached out to grab my hand and I was stunned like a deer in the headlights. Even as the heat from his hand seeped into my skin, I was caught between basking in the comforting gesture and wondering if it somehow violated professional boundaries. "I know it will be hard for you, but if you can just grit your teeth and get through the hoops, you can come back and keep doing what you are doing. You are good at it." His eyes were soft and although he never thanked me for staying near him when he needed me to, he was silently doing so at that moment and I was humbled. He gave my hand a slight squeeze and said, "You have a lot of learning to do. I should get you started." I let his hand go, but I didn't want to.