Strange New World

Summary: The immortal duo now finds them-selves living in the 23rd century. And after 300 hundred years of bitter bickering and trying to off each other Claire has decided that she's bored out of her skull with all things Earth, including Sylar.

Our dear Cheerleader wants off this rock in the worst possible way to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and blah, blah, blah…so she enlists in Starfleet in the hopes of putting as many light years between her and her eternal nemesis.

But what happens when Sylar is not quite ready to let her go? And to make matters worse when she inadvertently catches the attention of a certain half-Vulcan commander, Mr. Gray will be soon be catapulted into a contest to win Claire's heart.

It's logic versus psychosis, people. Who will win?

AU Star Trek 2009/Heroes crossover

Written for BlueArcticWolf

Pairings: Sylar/Claire, Spock/Claire guest starring Kirk and Uhura

Rated T for some strong language and maybe a wee bit of sexual innuendo

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or Heroes. Both universes belong to Paramount and NBC Universal respectively. Please don't sue me- I'm just a crazy fan girl trying to have some fun.

Chapter Five

"Claire?" Uhura again tries to gain my attention. Unfortunately for her, my focus is currently sidetracked at the moment. It seems right now that I only have eyes for the smirking 300 plus year-old shape shifter that's about to meet his long overdue end just as soon as I can wrap my eager little hands around his scrawny neck.

Stupid Gabriel!

I should've known that he'd try to find some way to ruin my first day at the Academy.

Well, he's got another thing coming if he thinks he could just casually stroll onto Starfleet's grounds, flaunting his disguise as my dearly departed uncle without me saying a word about his shenanigans.

Fueled by the overwhelming desire to give him a piece of my mind, I hastily slide my chair back and then leap to my feet. As I snatch up my PADD and other personal belongings, I try my best to keep the agitation out of my hands. Yet, when I glance over at my bewildered lunch companions to bid them a hurried farewell, the sage and wise twinkle in Dr. McCoy's blue eyes tells me he's picked up on my anxiousness.

Ever the southern gentleman, the learned physician rises from his seat as well while he gallantly asks, "Is there something wrong, my dear?"

Shaking my head, I plaster on what I hope is a reassuring smile on my face, as I try to dissuade further inquiry into my personal affairs with a carefully crafted lie. "No, not all…it's just that I remembered that my luggage is being delivered to my dorm room in about an hour. And I want to make sure I'm there so I can account for everything. God forbid if they should misplace my trunk full of shoes!"

Upon hearing the justification for my abrupt departure, Kirk (who's still seated) starts to chuckle as he winks knowingly at the other male in our group. "What is it about footwear that fascinates the fairer sex, Bones?"

Bones? What kind of nickname is that? If you ask me, it sounds like the title of an old TV show I use to watch with Gabriel and Peter way back at the beginning of the second half of the first decade of the 21st Century. I make a quick mental note to ask Leonard about the epithet later.

Meanwhile "Bones", keeping his dubious gaze on me, looks unconvinced by my thinly-veiled explanation. Unlike Kirk, he's not easily swayed by my story, no matter how beguiling I try to make it seem. Holding my breath, I pray that he'll just let the matter drop so I can go and throttle Gabriel before he can slither away from me.

Much to my relief, a few seconds later the good doctor concedes, withdrawing his suspicions…for now.

With a wry little smile he bitterly responds to Jim Kirk's query, "Damned if I know, Jim. My ex-wife, Joanna had two closets filled with those things and in the divorce settlement she got mine as well!"

"Now, now boys, leave Claire alone." Ah, Uhura, my hero. Thank goodness she's interceded on my behalf.

Although, before I can thank her for rescuing me, the alarm on her PADD starts to beep reminding Nyota of her impending meeting with Commander Spock.

"I'm afraid I've got to run," she apologetically says with a smile as she gracefully gets up from her chair to start gathering her things.

I smile back at her as I chirpily respond, "No worries. Now go, you don't want to keep Mr. Tall, Dark and Prickly waiting." Speaking of unpleasant people, my eyes dare to glance over Jim's shoulder again. And sure enough, Not-Peter is still standing by the metal beam tauntingly grinning at me. The sight of that villainous smile on such a heroic face seems totally wrong and it makes me shudder with revulsion.

However, my mood lightens a bit when the utterance of Commander Spock's new moniker elicits three very different yet amusing reactions – Uhura breaks out into a fit of giggles, Dr. McCoy scowls as he lifts a disapproving eyebrow and Kirk laughs so hard he manages to squirt the last sip of his raspberry iced tea right out of his left nostril.

Deliberately ignoring my previous directive to call me by my proper name and rank, Jim teasingly addresses me, "Oh, you're funny, Texas." With tea dribbling down his face he adds with a breathless laugh, "Don't let that Vulcan hear you call him that or you'll get saddled with another report."

Uhura looks at Kirk with disgust as she slowly shakes her head. "Gross," she murmurs.

McCoy quickly hands Kirk a napkin and tells him to wipe his nose. "Get it together, space cadet. You're scaring the ladies."

"Well this 'lady' is out of here," Uhura briskly announces as she walks around our table to daintily discard the remnants of her lunch tray into the nearest auto-recycler. She then waves at me and says, "I'll message you on your PADD once I'm done with the commander. We need to get started on that dissertation if you're going to make a good impression in his class tomorrow."

As the confident linguistics major starts to walk away I shout back at her, "I think it's too late for that!"

Nyota only smiles in response as she gracefully moves forward to make her way through the now thinning crowds until she reaches the mess hall exit. The second she's out of my line of sight I turn to the male cadets and say, "Gentlemen, thank you for lunch. Once I hear from Uhura I let you know when and where we're meeting tonight, okay."

I make a hasty about-face damned near determined to march myself right over to the Man of a Thousand Faces . However, before I can take the first step Dr. McCoy gently places a hand on my upper arm prompting me turn around.

"Claire would you like us to accompany you?" he kindly offers. "Why if we were back in Mississippi, it would be considered downright ungentlemanly of me to allow you to go unescorted."

I can't help but smile at McCoy. My mom, if she were still living, would've found the country doctor to be utterly charming. But then again Sandra Bennet, who was a huge Gone with the Wind fan, had always been a sucker for impeccable manners and men that were born and bred below the Mason Dixie.

Southern gentility notwithstanding though, I find myself declining Leonard's well-meaning proposal. It's not that I'm not tempted to remain in his company. I just have more pressing matters to attend to…like kicking Gabriel in the nuts.

"No, that's okay. I'll be fine. You two go on and explore the campus. I'm sure there's still lots to see and plenty of vulnerable women for Kirk to defile. Besides, I doubt you two want to spend the rest of afternoon knee deep in Jimmy Choo's."

"You got that right," Jim affirms good-naturedly. He then slaps a friendly hand on Leonard's shoulder and proclaims, "C'mon, Bones, the drinks aren't getting any colder and the girls aren't getting any warmer."

Shrugging away from Kirk's grasp, Dr. McCoy grouses at his perpetually amorous pal, "Alright, alright! Down boy before I have to hose you! Jesus, you'd think you've never seen the female form before. You do realize of course that there's not a drop of liquor to be found at this academy."

As Kirk starts to steer his friend away, he informs him, "That's why I brought a contraband disc, the encoding of my own design of course. And it'll temporarily override the basic programming of any replicator on campus to reproduce the finest synthetic alcoholic beverages for your imbibing pleasure! C'mon, live a little Bones. Didn't you see that Orian hottie when we first docked?"

"Yeah, yeah, I saw. Tall redhead with legs that go on forever and the greenest skin this side of the Andromeda system, right?" McCoy wistfully recalls as he slowly follows Kirk with reluctant steps.

With a lecherous smile, Kirk sing-songs, "She's got a friend…"

Leonard appears to think about the proposition for about all of two seconds before he rolls his eyes and then sighs with feigned aggravation, "Why I let you talk me into these things, I'll never know."

Kirk is practically beaming, the smug bastard. He's surely basking in the triumph at having convinced the pragmatic doctor to see things his way.

Poor Leonard, I feel sorry for him. I just pray that he'll never have to serve under that horn-dog Kirk, or he'll have a full time job on his hands keeping that farm boy out of trouble.

"See you later, Claire-Bear," Dr. McCoy warmly says to me.

Touched by his use of my old pet name, I bid him a fond farewell.

As for Kirk, his good-bye leaves much to be desired. "Later, Texas," Jim says with a salacious wink.

Jutting out my stubborn little chin I haughtily retort, "Never, Iowa."

Jim just laughs at me as he drags the hapless McCoy to face an afternoon of drinking and interplanetary debauchery.

lllll

Now that McCoy and Kirk have left me alone, it's time to get down to the business of getting rid of Gabriel before he can cause any trouble for me.

After depositing my own trash into the auto-recycler, I square my shoulders as I turn a bellicose gaze toward the bane of my eternal existence, Gabriel Pain-In-My-Ass Gray. There he is …my former enemy turned ex-part-time lover. He watches me now with blatant delight as I angrily I stride right up to him. His Cheshire cat smile infuriates me and it takes all of my will power not to punch him in the face.

At last, I find myself standing in front of Gabriel ready to give him hell. "Okay, you…outside, NOW!" I hiss between gritted teeth.

The cocksure grin never leaves the disturbing facsimile of Peter's face as Gabriel deliberately replies in his own raspy voice, "Whatever you say, Claire-Bear."

Hearing that familiar homicidal timbre emanate from the mouth of a relative that's been dead and buried for so many decades makes my skin crawl. But then again everything that Gabriel had done lately has had the same adverse affect on me.

Let's face it, the guy is a creep…always has been, always will be.

lllll

During the years of my bygone youth, Gabriel was known to me by another name, a name that became synonymous with pain and death - Sylar.

I can still remember how just hearing that terrible pseudonym being uttered aloud had caused me to tremble with fear. Sylar was the stuff that nightmares were made of - a murderous boogeyman with no redeeming qualities. He was cunning, predatory and ruthless. And anyone that had the misfortune to encounter him soon learned that stalking was in his blood. The need to hunt and track down prey had been hardwired into the encoding of his DNA. And I got all that, really I did, once I familiarized myself with the man behind the infamous killer.

And as the years passed and the further I got to know him, really and truly know him, I eventually realized that having intuitive aptitude was akin to being an alcoholic or a junkie. The voracious need to have more, to know more was like a narcotic to someone like Sylar (and it probably still is). After decades seeing him struggle daily to keep what he calls the Hunger at bay, I've pretty much concluded that I.A. is more of curse than a gift.

Yet, despite this affliction, Gabriel persevered and has managed stay on the wagon for a very long time. Quite the remarkable feat, if you ask me. It's highly commendable. Not a single kill since 2010- an outstanding achievement someone that used to revel and excel in the act of murder.

lllll

But with all redemptive accomplishments aside, what I still can't abide by is this constant need to shadow me by lurking around corners or waiting unseen at the end of a dark alley or even hovering outside a second story bedroom window for an illicit peek.

Even when I've implicitly asked him in the past to leave me alone for a few years so I can cool off from whatever our latest quarrel was, Sylar would clandestinely keep a vigilant eye on me. I suppose it was for his perverse amusement – a pathetic attempt to keep the boredom and loneliness of immortality from swallowing him whole.

Of course when I finally caught on to what he was doing, Sylar quickly professed his innocence, claiming he only did what he did because he wanted to protect me, save me from the big bad world. God, if I have a Federation credit for every time I've heard that same old line, I'd be richer than the blue-skinned bat people that mine for dilithium crystals on the moons of Cronus VII.

Doesn't Gabriel see that I'm no longer that naïve little cheerleader that needs a hero to rescue her at every turn? I've grown up considerably in the last 247 years. And I'm more than capable of rescuing myself, thank you very much.

Besides, I learned a long time ago that the only way I'm going to survive the long stretch into eternity is to not live in the past like Gabriel does. The past only ties you down, makes you weak and keeps you hostage to memories best forgotten. And sadly for me, Gabriel Gray is very much a part of a departed era that I rather not recall. He remains the only living remainder of a life I no longer have.

I look to the future now and the opportunity to start anew on some distant planet many light years from Earth. For that reason alone I need to scrape the past off the bottom of my shoe like the annoying sticky residue of chewing gum.

lllll

Once Gabriel and I are safely outside and away from anyone that might overhear our conversation, I whirl around to confront the bastard.

Placing my hands on my curvaceous hips I strike a haughty pose to show him I mean serious business. "I don't know what you think you're doing, or who you think you are, but you need to take the first shuttle ride out of here before I call Starfleet Security."

Unfazed by my palpable ire Gabriel decides to flash me Peter Petrelli's singature crooked grin in lieu of a reply.

Seeing that sweet expression again, after so many years of being deprived of it, further fans the flames of my rage. And I want nothing more than to knock Gabriel's teeth out in an attempt to mar the unwholesome image he dares to project before my eyes. I don't want to call undue attention to myself though, so I decide to keep my anger contained and concentrated on the man currently towering over me.

"How dare you come here wearing my uncle's face?" I viciously growl at him.

Gabriel annoyingly replies with a question of his own, "Why Claire is that any way to greet an old friend?"

That does it. The mocking tone in his voice manages to push all the wrong buttons. And I'm suddenly compelled to shove him hard in the chest to show my displeasure.

"First of all, asshole, you and I aren't friends! And secondly, you've got about five seconds to shift back into your own ugly self or so help me God, I'll grab a hand phaser from the first officer I see and disintegrate you out of existence. By the way, there's no coming back from that, even for regens like us."

"Oh, Claire," Gabriel begins to chide me as if I were a small child. "I know you don't want to ruin your chances at becoming a Starfleet automaton, so I'll interpret that whole hand phaser thing as an empty threat. As for the masquerade, I'm sorry if you're offended. Silly me, I just figured you'd be less hostile if I presented myself in a more agreeable form. But fine, if you want me to shift back, your wish is my command."

When I realize what he's about to do right here in the open, I quickly grab Gabriel by the wrists and yell, "Wait! Not here. There's about a two dozen aerial security drones that patrol this area alone. The last thing I need is to have an image of you morphing on the Federation News Network. It would be 2010 all over again."

"You only have yourself to blame for that one, doll-face. No one told you to jump off that Ferris wheel and out all specials," Gabriel wryly reminds me.

Then before I can I object he grabs my hand and starts dragging me toward a thicket of trees and brush that comprise part of the preserved land that Starfleet Academy designated to keep in its natural state when they broke ground here some 92 years ago. There's only one problem- since the 4-acre forested area is off limits to students, it's protected by a powerful yet unseen force field.

"Come on, I see a nice shady spot over there where we can get some privacy," Gabriel abruptly announces as he continues to haul my unwillingly body forward. I desperately look around for a fellow cadet to help me. But surprisingly there isn't a soul in sight. How strange…

"Gabriel Jonathan Gray, let me go!" I demand of him as I try to wriggle out of his ironclad grasp.

The cretin, still looking like Peter, only laughs at me as he ignores my command. "Wow, using my full Christian name, Claire? You must really be mad at me."

"You don't understand. Listen to me, you moron! The woods are protected by a force field. I read it in the introduction manual. If we try to trespass we'll be fried!"

Gabriel just smiles at me over his shoulder and says, "Ah, ye of little faith."

I'm forced to watch with incredulous anger as he stretches out his left hand. Gabriel then calmly sends a quick burst of electrical energy toward the invisible barrier effectively short circuiting it. Then before I know it we enter the woods where we are immediately concealed from the air-borne spherical drones that police and monitor the academy grounds by the dense arboreal canopy blotting out the sky.

Blessedly Gabriel drops my hand as he sighs, "Ah, alone at last." But as he turns around to face me I greet him with a nasty little surprise when my fist makes direct contact with his nose.

The minute I hear the bone crunching sound I smile with a great degree of satisfaction. And as blood gushes forth from his nostrils, Gabriel bends over to cup a hand around the injury in an attempt to stave the flow before it stains the front of his uniform. I almost laugh as he indignantly howls, "Ow, Claire, you broke it, you broke my nose!"

Smirking like the she-devil he probably thinks I am, I snap, "Get over yourself, you'll heal in a minute! Besides you deserved that!"

"I know I'll heal, that's not the point! In case you've forgotten, Blondie…one of us still feels PAIN!" Gabriel yells back in anger as he's still doubled over in agony.

It doesn't take long however for the ability he stole from me to start mending the damage I've done. Once his nose is reset and the bloody geyser has ceased, Gabriel quickly straightens his posture while the features on his face begin to wobbly rearrange themselves. I gasp the moment Peter's characteristics ebb away. And surprisingly I'm momentarily stricken by sorrow. This feeling though soon passes when I remember that Peter's visage is only an illusion conjured up by the sick demented man presently quivering in the throes of metamorphosis.

Although to me if feels like a life time, the entire shape shifting process is over in less than a minute . And to my bitter disappointment Gabriel Gray is back looking like his old self. At least he doesn't look like my uncle anymore.

Smug as ever, he has the nerve to ask me, "Better?"

I just roll my eyes heavenward begging God to give me the strength to deal with this adult sized infant. I then cast what I hope is a steely scowl in his direction as I proclaim, "I meant what I said earlier, Gabe. What's done is done. I'm a Starfleet cadet. And I'm bound and determined to work harder than anybody else in my class so that in a few years I'm hopefully assigned to the Federation's new flagship, the Enterprise. So you can't be here. Now please go away before you get me in trouble."

The moment Gabriel hears me say that, I see all the mirth die within his dark gaze. "You're mind's made up then, huh? I guess you do prefer being stuffed into a tin can jettisoning through space rather than stay on earth with me."

I sigh heavily as I turn my back to him, unwilling to see the sadness that's welled up in his eyes. "I don't know how else to explain it to you, Gabriel. Besides I said everything I had to say last night. I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

Next, I suddenly feel the warmth of two strong hands being gently laid upon my shoulders. I'm then slowly whirled around to face the man that's been my only constant for nearly three centuries. I hold my breath as Gabriel's sorrowful eyes bore into mine. "I won't lose you, Claire," he vows with burning resolve. "Not now, not after all we've been through."

I'm touched by his ardent promise but it's not enough to swing the pendulum in the other direction.

"Please, Gabriel" I whisper, pleading with him to listen to reason just this once. "Please let me go."

His voice breaks then as he tries to choke back a sob, "I-I can't. Don't you know that by now?"

I can feel my own eyes fill up with unshed tears as they desperately search his face… but for what exactly? I don't rightly know. Answers perhaps to the most burning questions that my heart is afraid to ask of him. Therefore I remain perfectly still hoping my silence will communicate what my voice cannot.

It's funny. Gabriel refuses to accept my non-verbal answer. And yet he responds to me in kind. I inhale deeply when he ever so tenderly cups my face with both hands. My heart begins to race wildly with anticipation as he slowly leans in until our mouths are almost touching. Involuntarily my eyes close and I tremble all over with apprehensive exhilaration.

And that's when I experience an unexpected epiphany that tells me that if he kisses me now my career as an officer of Starfleet will be over before it's even begun.

Suddenly from somewhere deep inside me an alarm goes off, alerting me that I'm about cross into the danger zone. And I should heed its warning. I need stop this before Gabriel ruins my plans. But right now, being this close to him, I can't seem to find the fortitude to try. Conflicting emotions rage inside me as I simultaneously dread and want his kiss.

"Gabriel. Why do you always do this to me?" I ask him breathlessly.

"Because I can…" his deep mesmerizing voice arrogantly responds.

I feel like I just got slapped in the face. I'm so taken aback that my eyes open as wide as they can go. "W-what did you say?"

Gabriel's words conceit instantaneously extinguishes any feelings of longing on my part. As a matter of fact they're quickly replaced by bitterness and regret. How could I have allowed myself to get roped in like this again?

Pushing him as far away from me as I can I lash out at Gabriel with all the hate I can muster, "What the hell do you think this is…a game? You think that you can just show up from God knows where and I would just what...fall into your arms? Think again, asshole! This is my life, you're messing with. MY life, do you hear me? And I decided a long time ago that I no longer want you in it!"

As I start to move away from him, Gabriel tries to call me back. "Claire, wait. Don't leave."

"Go to hell!" I yell over my shoulder. "And don't you dare use that creepy puppet ability to keep me here or so help me…"

But just as I'm about to march out of the woods, all of a sudden we both hear the unmistakable crackling sound of brushwood and twigs breaking beneath the footfalls of a pair heavy boots. It's a sure sign that Gabriel and I are no longer alone.

Sure enough my suspicions are soon confirmed when another male voice barks out in an authoritative tone, "You there, halt. You are in strict violation of Starfleet mandate 622431."

Great, just what I need…to be arrested by the academy police for trespassing. And all on my first day. Way to go, Gabriel! Thanks to him, it looks like I can kiss the Enterprise good-bye.

But just when I think I'll never see the inside of a starship, leave it to Gabriel to actually save my fledging interstellar career. Before I can even fathom what's happening the cocky bastard speeds up to me in blinding blur of movement. And then in the next instant as I feel his arms come up around me I'm quickly overwhelmed by the unwelcomed feeling of disorientation accompanied by a rush of stomach-turning nausea. That's when I realize that Gabriel has just teleported us out of the woods to parts unknown.

lllll

God, I hate teleportation…in any form. The motion sickness followed by the momentary loss of equilibrium downright sucks. Yeah, I know I'll get it over it in a minute or two. But as the so-called "indestructible girl" I still find it irritating as hell that I'm subjected to these strange side effects in the first place. Let's just hope I can endure using the transporter system on whatever starship I'm assigned to.

Meantime, as the world around me gradually comes into focus, our destination slowly reveals itself. It appears that Gabriel and I have abruptly materialized behind the cover of 12-foot high ficus hedges near the one of the dormitory quads.

Thankfully, my queasiness is subsiding as I feel a little flare of gratitude toward Gabriel. I have to admit that he at least had the foresight transport us to this area sight unseen. However, my appreciation for his discretion is short-lived when I realize that our arms are still entangled around on another.

I quickly disengaged myself from Gabriel by giving him a good hard shove. "Get off me, you jerk!" I demand with an indignant cry.

"Now, Claire I would expect a little more thanks from you considering I just saved your butt back there."

"Oh, yeah? Well maybe my butt wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't decided to trespass in the first place! And speaking of being where you're not supposed to, you need to leave, Gabriel, right now!"

But instead of doing as I bade him, the arrogant son-of-a-bitch stands his ground and says with an impish grin, "I don't think so, Cheerleader. See, here's the thing…since you were so gung-ho about all this Starfleet crap, I've decided to see for myself what the big deal is."

"Y-you didn't…" My voice is quaking now as my mind and heart start to wrestle with what I know will be a terrible truth.

Meanwhile, Gabriel's smile grows wider as his features start to alter themselves again before my very eyes. The nausea returns as I fearfully watch him change his appearance. The whole time I'm praying that he won't end up looking like another dead relative. Soon enough the transmutation is complete and I feel an eerie sense of dread spread through me as I gawk at the end result.

The eyes staring back at me are a startling shade of blue, cobalt to be precise. And the brows that adorn those bright orbs are sparse and neat, so unlike the bushy caterpillars that lord over Gabriel's countenance. The neatly combed hair on top of his head is about two shades lighter than what I'm used to seeing on him. And the complexion on his face has gone from milky white to a ruddy tan. The mouth appears to have fuller lips and the jaw line is square and more masculine looking. His nose is smaller too.

He has even managed to compress his impressive height, making his frame appear shorter and stockier.

As I continue to stare in astonishment, I can't get over how dissimilar Gabriel really looks from his usual manifestation. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear to God that I'm looking at a perfect stranger.

"Oh, but I did, baby-doll," he answers me. Next, in an unfamiliar voice that's no less egotistical than his own, Gabriel proudly proclaims, "Say hello to first-year cadet, Gary Mitchell."

"Nuh uh, there's no way! You can't do this! It's impossible." I furiously refute as I fight the urge to vomit all over myself.

'Gary' just shrugs his shoulders as he casually explains, "Claire, you should know by now that nothing is 'impossible' when it comes to me. When you first told me of your plans, I'll admit I was distressed, for lack of a better term. But then I got to thinking. How I could rectify the situation? And that's when it hit me, like a thunderbolt."

Grimacing with disdain, I choke on my own bile as I solicit him for an answer, "What hit you? And why didn't it kill you?"

Gabriel dares to touch the tip of my nose with his index finger as he responds in a condescending tone, "You're so cute when you're confused."

I slap his hand away as I growl, "Just answer the question, dickhead!"

The disguised man sighs heavily. It seems that complying with my request is going to be such a big chore. Just seconds later however, he finally relents as he coolly replies, "Fine, have it your way. Since you're so determined to go through with this idiocy I've decided to join you on your misadventure."

"So you mean tell me you've actually enlisted in Starfleet? Oh my God, now I know you're insane! And you're going to pull this off how? By spending the next four years posing as somebody else?

What happened to the real Gary Mitchell or do I even want to know?" I nearly exclaim at the top of my lungs. I try like hell to retain some decorum as I make a conscious effort to keep my voice down. At this time of day the quad is probably crawling with cadets that might be within earshot of the hedges.

But I can't seem to stop my head from spinning as I try to digest Gabriel's latest hare-brained scheme. And at this point I'm beyond exasperated.

"Relax," he tells me like none of this is a big deal. "The real Gary Mitchell died of a poisoned dart when he was stationed many light years from here on the planet Dimorus. It seems that he and his family were ambushed by the indigenous population."

"God, you're stupid! If you think the Federation database doesn't have a record of that incident, then you're wrong, Gabriel. Someone is liable to look up the file and then you'll be busted."

"I don't think so, sweetheart. You forget that you and I knew a technopath way back when. And thanks to Micah Saunders' power I can edit, omit or completely delete anyone's records at my discretion."

"Then why not change your own? Why steal the identity of some poor dead man?"

Gabriel falters as I watch him struggle to come up with a witty answer. And then it dawns on me. "You can't, can you?" I self-righteouslyquestion him. With morbid laughter I add, "You're unable to hack into your own files, right?" I clap my hands gleefully as I delight over his apparent limitations. "Oh, this is better than Christmas!" I joyfully declare.

"Shut up, Claire! Fine, okay I'll admit there might be some restrictions with Micah's ability. Evidently it's a bit of a challenge adapting a 21st century mindset to 23rd century technology-but it's not impossible. I'm still working out the kinks, that's all.'

I just smile, happy in the knowledge that something has finally flummoxed the Great Gabriel Gray. "That's a load of crap! You've had 247 years to 'work out the kinks', or so you say. That's not it. You can't get around their encryptions. Your file must be so top secret that the Federation has sealed its contents at the highest of security levels."

"Okay, Miss Smarty Pants, you got me. Alright, I may have more than one reason to go off planet since I'm still a wanted criminal after all this time. But before you even think about blabbing to Admiral Komack or anyone else at Starfleet Command, know this: if they have a file on me then someone high up knows about the existence of specials. So if you turn me in then you run the risk of outing yourself."

"I don't think s…"I suddenly halt in mid-sentence when I start to think about the true implications of his words.

Shit, he's right. If I blow the whistle on Gabe, he'll make good on his implied threat of exposing me.

I've been backed into a corner between a rock and hard place and that's precisely where Gabriel wants me. Damn him!

Gabriel smoothly drawls, "What's it going to be, Claire? Are you going to play nice or have us both court marshaled?"

"You bastard. You planned this from the beginning, didn't you?" I grouse. But my question hits a wall of stony silence.

Fueled by impotent rage I continue, "Fine, you want to be here at the Academy? Then there are ground rules. And I swear to Christ, Sylar that if you don't follow them to the letter, I'll go straight to Komack- consequences be damned!"

After a beat Gabriel finally responds, "Name your terms."

"You only speak to me when I initiate the conversation. You're to stay clear of my friends. Under no circumstances are you to come near the vicinity of my dorm room, classes or any other space I might occupy without my consent. There will be no stalking, tailing or shadowing of any kind. And if I even get a hint of you've been spying me then this little deal is off. Oh and one more thing- no using your powers unless it's to keep up your disguise."

Gabriel, still wearing his 'Gary' suit, crosses his arms in front of his uncharacteristically broad chest as he contemplates the stipulations I've just laid out before him.

Anxiously I wait for either his acceptance or refusal. A few moments later I get my answer.

"You drive a hard bargain, Claire. But I accept your provisos on one condition…"

My eyes narrow as I brace myself for the worst. "And that would be…?"

"That you don't date anyone until after graduation. Once you've earned your stripes you can do whatever you want."

At first I just stare blankly at him hardly believing what my ears have just heard. But as the constraints of his so-called decree start to sink in, my blood reaches its boiling point. And that's when I explode. "You have some nerve! This isn't the Middle Ages and I don't belong to you. I can date whoever I want, when I want and you can't stop me! Deal's off. I'll go to the Admiral in the morning."

Not wanting to stomach another second in Gabriel's presence I quickly whirl around and start walking away. I want nothing more right now than to put as much distance between me and the asshole that's determined to make the rest of my eternity a living hell.

"Alright, Claire you can dip those dainty little toes of yours into the dating pool," Gabriel glumly concedes. His acquiescence nearly stops me in my tracks. I slow my gait down but I don't turn back. Meanwhile my frazzled brain begins to process and mull over all that's happened today. And that's when I slowly realize that Gabriel is in a much worse predicament than me.

I guess he really is afraid of getting arrested.

There'd be no Company cell waiting for him this time. If Gabriel is apprehended, he would immediately be remanded to the penile colony on the desert planetoid of Zolax Alpha, where water is scarce and the labor is hard. The arid conditions on that world are near-toxic and hellishly brutal. Now that I think about it I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone, not even an insufferable degenerate like Gabriel.

On the other hand leave it to his big mouth to change my mind about Zolax Alpha when he foolishly adds, "Just no Vulcans or Orions, alright? Deltans, El-Aurians and even Capellans are okay...I guess. Just no green-blooded people, okay Claire?"

Now that I'm thoroughly disgusted and pissed off, I start walking again only this time at a much faster pace and with more purpose. As I reach the end of the hedges I yell back at him, "I was wrong before…you're not just an asshole, you're a bigot too."

"See you later, Claire…" he says almost pleasantly.

"Up yours, 'Gary,' I fire back as I give him the one-finger salute, knowing full well that I've just struck a deal with the Devil himself.

But there's no time to think about that now, not when I've got some serious unpacking to do. Not to mention that dreadful assignment I still have to write tonight so I can turn into Commander Spock first thing tomorrow. And following that I have a full day of classes to look forward to.

Yes, there are other things that take precedence- none of which involve Gabriel Gray. And I thank my lucky stars for that.

Despite being caught up in my own thoughts, it doesn't take me long at all to reach my dorm room. In fact, when I take the time to survey my surroundings, I discover that my living quarters are actually positioned not too far from where Gabriel had teleported us earlier.

This unpleasant finding can only mean one thing – Gabriel not only knows where my dormitory is, he probably has a good idea what my class schedule is too. Let's just hope he doesn't decide to make an appearance in Commander Spock's class. Dealing with one pretentious ass is bad enough. But I don't think I can handle two of them at the same time.

TBC…

A/N: Okay, my darlings. Here at long last is chapter five with lots of Claire/Gabriel in this one. And what a shocker, Gabriel is going to attend Starfleet Academy! This can only mean trouble. Mark my words.

Now for you old school Trekkers, some of you may recognize the name Gary Mitchell. He was the helmsman in the ST-TOS episode "Where No Man Has Gone Before". Poor Gary got zapped by some mysterious energy and then developed psychic powers like telekinesis, telepathy and shot lightening from his fingers tips. Sounds like someone else we know, right?

Anyway, what poor Gabriel doesn't know is that Gary is actually an old friend of Jim Kirk's. And yes, they will run into each other and Kirk will try to bring him into his social circle which now consists of Bones, Nyota and Claire. Things will get interesting.

Next chapter will finally deal with the Spock/Claire classroom showdown I promised.