Quatechins, New Mexico Desert

"CC wait!"

The scowling brown-haired woman ignored the man, her low-heeled pumps clicking on the white tile floor as she fled the board room. She stopped in front of the elevator, quickly punching her access code then swiping her securtiy card, quickly stepping in and holding the close door button, smiling grimly when the doors slammed in Dr. Wyatt Quinn's face. She pressed LL15, taking a deep breath and unclenching her jaw as she descended.

By the time the elevator stopped, CC had re-focused her anger into determination. She briskly strode down the left corridor until it dead-ended at an imposing metal door.

She gritted her teeth as she heard, "Dammit, CC," from the other end of the hall. "Hurry," she whispered, placing her hand on the reader and clearly speaking the access code. She stepped inside as the door whoosed open. At the second door, she leaned forward for the retinal scan, readjusting her glasses as she entered the lab. She moved through the imposing space to her private office, unlocking the door with her private keycard, then securing it from the inside before settling behind her desk. She opened the top desk door to retrieve her secret stash of M&M minis, sighing as the chocolate soothed her frayed nerves.

After a few all too brief moments of peace, there was a loud banging on her door, "Come on CC Don't be a baby." Her eyes narrowed, but she pointedly ignored him while he continued to pound on the metal. "Hope he breaks his fool hand," she muttered, then huffed and said loudly, "Go away Wyatt. I have nothing to say to you."

"We need to discuss what happened."

CC gritted her teeth, then stood, straightened to her full 5'9" height, and yanked the door open to glare at her unwelcome visitor, her light blue eyes meeting his moss green. "Discuss? Fine. Let's discuss. You undermined my project, got my budget cut and diverted the money to your project." She slammed the door, saying, "End of discussion."

"CC," He grated, then was silent for a moment, then, "When you're done with your temper tantrum and are ready to be a rational adult, we'll continue this."

She clenched her fists, picking up a small model of an atom and tossing it at the door, grumbling in frustration when it shattered. Ignoring the mess, she punched the on button of her cd player, slumping into the comfortable leather. The loud sounds of Motley Crue reverberated through the space. After a few minutes, her shoulders drooped and she gathered the pieces to reassemble the model.

CC paced the length of her lab, absently singing along with "Girls, Girls, Girls", formulating possible experiments which would unequivocally prove her theory while glancing at the Accelerator at the back of the room. She lightly chewed her lip knowing she was on the right path, but without visible results immediately, Wyatt Quinn's request would be approved and then she wouldn't have the funding to continue her work - her fanciful, no-application-in-the-real-world work, as the arrogant blonde researcher had deemed it. "Of course, he'll be able to make an even more deadly missile," she muttered, "and that, after all, is where this company can make the most money."

Sighing, the physicist moved back to her office as the disc ended. Rummaging through her collection, she selected Poison, inserted it and upped the volume. Her fellow scientists couldn't understand how she could work with Hair Metal blaring the background, but CC found that the music actually improved her concentration. She returned to the lab, her gaze again resting on the large machine against the back wall. She frowned as she slowly walked to it, grazing her fingertips over the cool metal. It would be weeks before the machine would be ready. The calibrations weren't complete. It hadn't been fully approved... and most likely would not be approved if her budget was cut. Her eyes drifted to the control panel.

"No," CC whispered, then turned away, pausing after only a couple of steps, Quinn's words ringing in her ears. Squaring her shoulders, she pivoted and strode to the panel, letting her hand hover above the switches for a moment, then taking a deep breath as she pressed her thumb against the recognition pad of the 'on' button.

Several hours later, as CC re-secured wisps of long, straight brown hair into the tidy bun atop her head, she regarded the acceleration chamber. Her gaze moved to the large white-board and she reviewed the multitude of equations to then recheck the calibrations on the machine. If her calculations were correct, the chamber should work. She bit her thumb nail, considering a course of action. Sound scientific process dictated a small scale experiment to verify the validity of her calculations. She sighed, running her damp hands over her grey trousers, then adjusting the settings on the device.

The physicist called the Division Director, Dr. Harold Phillips and advised him that she was about to start the Accelerator. He forbid her to do so, but CC hung up and, with a glint in her eyes, called Wyatt Quinn. She conducted a final check of all the settings, and after saying a quick prayer, took a deep breath and activated the machine. Holding that breath, she bit her lower lip as the velocity inside the chamber increased, causing it to shimmer. She didn't acknowledge either man as they ran into the lab and skidded to a stop beside her.

All three observers shielded their eyes as the device suddenly glowed. CC exhaled a sigh of relief as the brightness increased for several moments, then suddenly vanished. She smiled smugly, looking from one man to the other. "Just as I predicted. Energy building, then exploding, then disappearing."

Quinn snorted. "Doesn't prove that you can create a manmade black hole inside the chamber."

Her eyes narrowed and she moved to the machine, "why don't we check the readings collected inside?" She released the door, pulling it open, "Oh, my God," she gasped as she peered in. Both men crowded around the opening as she stared down at the unconscious man on the floor of the Accelerator.

Part Two

After several moments of stunned silence, CC blinked, then knelt beside the dark haired man pressing her fingers against his neck, ignoring the tingle that passed through her. Her breath whoosed out as she felt a pulse. She glanced up, insisting, "We should get him to the infirmary." Phillips nodded, moving away to call the medical doctor.

"Where did he come from?"

"How should I know, Wyatt," the female physicist growled, while her eyes continued to peruse this stranger's form. He was lying face down, a dingy tan hat obscuring any view of his face. His back was covered with an even dingier brown coat and she could see a hint of black fabric around his neck. CC grimaced, lightly skimming her fingers over the material stretched across his shoulders. "Some kind of animal hide," she murmured, her gaze drifting downward, lingering a moment too long on his posterior. She flushed, quickly averting her stare to move down his legs. His pants were tan and his feet were encased in well-worn boots.

"They'll be here with a stretcher momentarily," the Director said, coming to stand behind the two scientists. "Dr. McKenna," he began, "would you care to explain this?"

CC slowly stood, finally tearing her gaze from the prone man and turned to face Drs. Phillips and Quinn. Her gaze moved from one to the other, "I'll be glad to. Just as soon as I figure it out myself."

Her paunchy middle-aged boss scowled, while Quinn replied, "You're saying you really don't know how he appeared?" He gestured to the unconscious man.

She glared at him, "Why, yes Wyatt, I know exactly how he appeared and am choosing not to share that information with either of you," she sarcastically returned.

Before he could respond, Phillips said, "Well, figure it out." He meet her gaze. "This is your top priority. Any assistance or funding you need is yours."

CC couldn't quite suppress a smirk as Quinn scowled disbelieving, "Of course, Dr. Phillips. I'll..." She paused as the medics pushed the gurney into the lab with the Doctor Hettlewhite close on their heels. The scientists stepped back, allowing the two men to carefully examine, then extricate the man from the cramped chamber before placing him on the stretcher. They had removed his hat and coat.

She sucked in a deep breath. He had a light dusting of whiskers on the lower half of his face and around his full, soft-looking lips. CC had an incredible need to know what color his eyes were... She swallowed hard as her eyes traced his lean, yet lithe muscular body. His arms were long and his hands were calloused. The red shirt was tucked into his pants, which nicely clung to narrow hips, and outlined sinewy thighs. The whole ensemble was rather dusty, but that did nothing to distract from his appeal...

"... Dr. McKenna!"

CC blinked, focusing her attention on Director Phillips once again. She licked her lips, "Y... yes?"

"Medical will take care of our guest. I want you to carefully examine these calculations," his arm swept toward her whiteboard, "and formulate a theory on how this happened."

"Of course," she agreed. "But, I do need to talk to him when he awakens."

The boss agreed, "I'll have them contact you," then glanced at Wyatt, who was still scowling. "Dr. Quinn, let us leave Dr. McKenna with her work."

The blonde scientist nodded and reluctantly departed, sparing a glare a CC.

Once the doors to the lab had closed behind the two men, CC broke into giggles. She'd now have all the money she needed. And all because she disobeyed the boss, conducted a full-scale experiment on an untested piece of equipment and had totally unexpected and mind-bending results from said experiment. She quickly sobered, thinking about the man. Who was he? Where had he come from? How had he come? Was he injured?

Sighing, she dismissed thoughts of the stranger and retrieved paper and pencils, then positioned the whiteboard and settled at the counter and began scribbling.

CC glanced at her watch and suppressed a scream, instead tossing one of her pencils across the room. She stood and stretched, gathered her papers, then pulled the whiteboard into her office before locking the door. She left the lab, stopping by the Director's office and after discovering that the visitor was still unconscious, informed him that she was leaving, but to beep her if the man awoke.

"Hey. Earth to CC. Come in CC."

She twitched as the manicured hand moved in front of her face. "Sorry Amy," she muttered, absently stirring the virgin margarita.

"So, what gives? And since when do you drink virgin margaritas with your fajitas?"

"When I may get called back in to work."

Amy scowled. "You already spend entirely too much time there. How are we ever going to find you a man?" Her deep brown eyes scanned CC. "And you're certainly not going to attract anyone dressed like that. At least take your hair down. And why aren't you wearing your contacts?"

The physicist sighed. "Aaaa-meeee. I don't want to 'find a man'. I come here for the food and," she grimaced, taking a sip of her drink, "margaritas. With Jose Cuervo." She glanced down at herself. "And what is wrong with the way I'm dressed? This is a very expensive suit and shoes. And I like my hair out of my face. And the contacts irritate my eyes." She looked at her gorgeous sable-haired friend over. "Not all of us feel comfortable, or have the body, to wear a mini-skirt and cropped top."

Amy snorted. "We were roommates, remember? You have a great body. And with those long legs," she stuck her tongue out, causing CC to laugh, "you'd be killer in a mini."

"That isn't me. And before you start, I don't want to go blonde. I'll stick with my natural mousy brown." She looked at her dark-haired friend enviously.

Amy shook her head. "You are hopeless." She leaned in to whisper, "Don't you ever want to take something hard, muscular and slightly stupid to bed?"

"The food," CC quickly said, diverting Amy's attention as the waiter placed the sizzling platter on their table.

Later that night, as she sunk into the mountain of bubbles filling her tub, CC thought about Amy's words, then quickly dismissed them, along with images of a certain dark-haired stranger. The scientist sighed, slowly sliding the bath buff over her skin, her breathing quickening as she imagined it was rough male hands smoothing the mint scented gel over her glistening body.

"Oh, hell." She gritted her teeth and quickly finished her bath, toweling off and slipping into her underwear and over-sized Cal-Tech t-shirt. She brushed her teeth, then fell face-first onto the bed.

Part Three

Dr. CC McKenna shot warning glares at all she encountered as she briskly strode through the foyer of Quatechins. She'd not slept well, and when she had managed to sleep, she'd been plagued by dreams of a rough-whiskered, rough-handed man. She paused in the break room, filling her over-sized mug with coffee, then adding sugar and cream before going to Dr. Phillips office. She walked in. "Is he awake?" she asked without preamble.

The Director glanced up, his eyebrows arching. "Not yet. Are you quite all right?"

She waved a hand dismissively, then turned. "I'm going to medical."

CC stood beside the bed, looking down at the patient. His eyes were still closed and he was wearing a hospital gown. She gritted her teeth, pushing aside thoughts about the construction of the back of those gowns... Dr. Hettlewhite could find nothing physically wrong with him, other than a small bump on his forehead. He had a slight curvature to his spine which was probably genetic and some old scars, but appeared to be in good health.

The medical staff had shown her his clothing. The coat was definitely some sort of animal, but it had not been treated as leather usually is. His boots appeared to be leather and his other garments cotton. And his undergarments reminded her of those old-fashioned swimsuits. Then, of course, there was the gun.

"Who are you?" She whispered, gazing down at him. He looked almost angelic... Biting her lip, she tentatively brushed her fingertips across his forehead, again feeling that tingle. She let them drift slowly down his nose, then over his lips, sighing when she found them to be as soft as they lo... She yelped when strong fingers suddenly gripped her wrist and she found herself staring into the deepest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

CC felt as if she'd been hit in the solar plexus as their gazes remained locked for a few breathless moments. His eyes darted around the room, then over her. He released her wrist and sat up, swinging his legs over the bed.

"Please," she began, "you shouldn't try to get up yet."

His fists clenched the sheets as he closed his eyes, then slowly opened them, frowning as he realized what he was wearing. "Where'r ma clothes?" He demanded, his blue eyes intense as they found hers. She swallowed, but before she could answer, he added, "An' ma gun."

CC licked her lips, glancing to the door, subtly waving the doctor away. She knew she'd get more information from this man if she spoke to him alone. "Safe," she replied, edging closer. "I'm CC McKenna."

"Ma'am," he softly replied, raising his hand to his head, then dropping it with a frown. "I reckon ma hat's safe too... Vin Tanner."

The physicist smiled. "I'm sure it is." She paused, extending her hand. He hesitated, then grasped her fingers before leaning down and lightly skimming his lips over her knuckles. She suppressed a shiver as he straigthened, releasing her hand. "Pl..." she cleared her throat, "please lie down, Mr. Tanner."

Plucking at the fabric, he reluctantly settled back into the bed, his eyes trained on her. "Where am I?"

The scientist debated briefly, then said, "New Mexico. The desert." That knowledge seemed to relax him marginally. "Mr. Tanner," she began, "what is the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated, and considered his situation. His glance swept around the strange room to rest on his companion. He perused her form: she was tall with brown hair secured atop her head, light blue-grey eyes partially hidden behind spectacles, a soft looking white shirt tucked into black pants, a long white coat and very odd shoes. The fact that she wore pants did nothing to distract from her womanly allure. And his insticts said he could trust her... "I'd jist put Peso in the liv'ry. Reckon I's headin' ta the Saloon." He frowned, meeting her steady gaze, as she had sat in the chair beside the bed. "Heard some'in b'hind me and turned 'round. There 'as this..." he paused, his eyes dropping as he searched for the word.

"Funnel?" CC supplied.

His gaze snapped back to hers. "Yes! Ma'am. Then it 'as on top of me. Felt like I 'as spinnin'." He shrugged. "Woke up here."

"Oh, God," Dr. McKenna whispered, then taking a deep breath, said, "This is very important Mr. Tanner." He regarded her silently, patiently until she continued, "What year is it?"

Vin quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head "1878."

CC scowled as she entered her lab. She slammed her briefcase on the counter, drumming her fingers against the cool metal, taking several deep breaths. "Pompous windbag," she muttered. Just after Mr. Tanner had calmly said 1878, Director Phillips had barged into the room and insisted that she leave. She'd met Vin's eyes and had tried to communicate to him that she'd return. She'd taken his slight smile as understanding.

Sighing, she moved to unlock her office and pulled the whiteboard, along with numerous sheets of paper, across the floor next to the Accelerator. The physicist set up another blank whiteboard next to it and settled between then and the chamber.

Dr. McKenna growled in frustration, glancing around her lab. The second whiteboard was filled; about 100 sheets of paper were spread over every available surface. She rolled her shoulders, stretching, then glanced at her watch. CC blinked, then frowned, when she saw that it was almost 8 o'clock. It had been over 10 hours since she'd left Vin... Mr. Tanner at the mercy of Dr. Phillips. She gathered the papers, stuffing them into her briefcase, then place the whiteboards in her office before securing it. With a purposeful stride, she headed to the Director's office. Not finding him there, she turned toward medical.

"Dr. Hettlewhite," she addressed the physician, "is Dr. Phillips here?"

He nodded, vaguely waving toward a conference room, not looking up from the print-out he was studying.

Not bothering to respond, CC cautiously opened the conference room door, surprise flitting across her face when she saw that one of the psychiatrists, along with Wyatt Quinn, was talking with her boss.

Phillips smiled, motioning her in. "Ah, Dr. McKenna. We were just discussing the many possible applications of your discovery." He patted the chair beside him, so she reluctantly sat.

"Discovery?" she ventured, her gaze moving from one to the other, noting their expressions: Dr. Phillips - pleased, the psychiatrist - intrigued, and Wyatt - jealous?

"Yes. How you managed to pluck the subject from 1878. It was an unintended result to your experiment, but perhaps a most fortuitous one. You proved that time travel is possible. Of course, the procedure will have to be refined and perfected. Just imagine what we can do when we're able to control the 'where', 'when' and 'who' aspects of the process..."

CC interrupted Dr. Phillips, "What?" She blinked, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I'm working on black holes. Trying to create one in the lab to see how they might act in space. My research has nothing to do with time travel. Mr. Tanner getting -plucked- was a grave mistake." She looked at each person seated around the table. "And in all probability a mistake that can't be replicated."

Quinn scoffed. "All we have to do is start the machine up again and see who appears."

"No!" CC insisted.

He smiled smugly. "So, you do think it's possible someone else will be ripped through space-time."

The scientist gritted her teeth, glaring at the blonde man. "If there is even the slightest possibility of that happening, we can't risk using the chamber again."

"You're correct, Dr. McKenna," Phillips agreed. Her relief was short-lived when he continued, "we certainly won't use the machine again until you've had time to modify your equations." He regarded her for a moment, then asked, "did you make any progress today?"

She slumped, shaking her head. "I've been over the calculations a hundred times. I can't account for the anomolous results, so I don't even know where to begin corrections." She glanced at her briefcase. "I'll look over them tonight." CC stood. "I'd like to see our guest."

The psychiatrist and Director Phillips shared a look, and then the shrink spoke for the first time. "That is not a wise course of action."

Her eyebrow arched. "Really? And why not?"

"We will be interviewing and examining the subject. Testing him. You could alter the results."

Her eyes narrowed. "Subject? He has a name - Vin Tanner. And he's a human being. One who is probably scared, confused, upset... he needs someone who'll talk to him." She glanced sharply at the psychiatrist, "not someone poking, prodding and asking inane questions of him."

CC then looked to Wyatt and Harold. "And it's unethical to keep a human subject detained against his will."

"Really, CC," Quinn said, "where would he go? Would it be ethical to turn him loose in the 21st century."

"And the subject hasn't asked to go," Phillips informed her.

Tilting her head, she replied, "You've asked him?" She sighed. "I'm not saying release him, like he was some sort of captured wild animal. But, also not to treat him like a... a..."

"Test subject?" the shrink supplied. "But, that is exactly what he is." She stood and before exiting addressed Director Phillips, "remember. No contamination of the subject."

CC glared after her, turning her attention back to the two remaining men. "You're going along with her." She paced around the table. "Why?"

Phillips sighed. "Dr. McKenna, this discovery of yours is a breakthough scientists have been seeking since Einstein first released his Theory of General Relativity. You should be rejoicing in it." He met her eyes, standing to place his hands on her shoulders. "You are the most brilliant physicist I've ever worked with. Take this. Run with it. And let us worry about the subject. He won't be harmed."

CC sighed, nodding slightly. "Fine." She turned, then paused at the door, looking back, "It really is an amazing discovery." She smiled, especially at Wyatt who was glaring, then softly closed the door.

CC McKenna sat at her kitchen table, not really tasting the take-out Chinese she'd retrieved from her frig as she mentally outlined her plan.

Part Four

The physicist verified the settings on the Accelerator one last time then thoroughly checked her lab, opening each drawer, each cabinet to carefully examine the contents. Satisfied, she dragged the whiteboards back into her office and then thorougly checked her desk and filing cabinets one last time. She erased the whiteboards and cleaned then, then CC sat at her desk and scanned the contents of her computer's hard drive. She glanced at her watch, swallowed hard, then accessed the security controls for Quatechins. She paused, staring at the screen, then with a huff started a video feedback loop and disabled the keycard monitoring function.

Taking a deep breath, she stood and quickly departed her office, heading to the back staircase. Swiping her card, she entered the stairwell, glanced around nervously, then hurried down several levels, exiting and turning right. She briskly strode down the hall, stopping at a closet to retrieve a bundle, then moved to another door and swiped a second keycard, to step into the room.

"Mr. Tanner?" she whispered, only able to discern vague shapes in the dark room. She pivoted as she sensed movement.

"Ma'am," he softly returned.

She made her way across the space and handed him the package. "Here are your clothes. Hurry," she instructed, turning away to give him privacy.

Dr. McKenna closed her eyes as she felt his presence behind her. "Thank you," he drawled. She shivered slightly, nodding. "Follow me," she rasped.

When the duo arrived back at the lab, CC turned and inhaled as her gaze moved over him. "Did they hurt you?" she began, stepping closer, noting that the clothes weren't dusty, but he still had stubble...

"No, ma'am," he insisted, frowning as he glanced around the lab.

She sighed. "Mr. Tanner," she began, "I don't have time to explain everything..." She paced, aware his eyes were following her. "I don't know what, if anything, they told you," she paused, meeting his eyes. "But, this isn't 1878."

Vin inclined his head, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "I much as figured, ma'am."

CC shook her head, smiling, then said, "There may be a way to return you to your own time." She chewed her lip. "Only, I'm not certain it will work. You could end up... anywhere, anytime," she swallowed, "or dead. The decision is yours. If you want to try," she pointed to the Accelerator, "you'll get in there and I'll activate it." She looked from the stoic, silent man to her watch. "And I hate to rush you, but I need your decision in about 2 minutes."

He remained silent, looking from her to the chamber, then around the room. "Ya do have outside here?"

CC blinked. "Yes. Of course."

"I a'int hankerin' ta die, so I'll stay," he said with finality.

Dr. McKenna breathed a sigh of relief, then hurried to the chamber and after making a few adjustments, activated a program. She went to her office and de-activated the sensors in the service elevator and the parking garage, before starting another program on her computer. She checked the time. "Dammit," she hissed, hurrying from the room, looking at it for a long moment, then securing her door. She let her gaze move around the lab briefly, then, "We have to go now," she insisted, grabbing his calloused hand and pulling him behind her.

Once they were away from the Quatechins compound, CC relaxed marginally, then glanced at her companion. He was staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. She licked her lips, opening her mouth, then clamping it shut. She got the impression that Vin Tanner was a man of few words and decided it might be best to leave him with his thoughts. For now.

As CC parked the car in it's usual place, she was glad she'd paid extra for this house, the only one at the end of a long cul-de-sac. She sat quietly for a moment, then glanced at her companion, wondering what was going through his mind. She opened her door and walked around to the the passenger side. He'd opened his door and exited the car. "My house," she explained, quickly ushering him inside and clicking on the light.

"Have a seat," said, gesturing to the living room. He sank into the fluffy cushions of the sofa, his eyes closing. CC moved about the house, conducting a quick, yet thorough search. Before she flipped the light off, she looked around each room, finally arriving back at the living room, carrying a large suitcase. "Mr. Tanner. We need to go."

He opened his eyes, then stood and immediately took the bag from her, his intense eyes meeting hers. "Why 're doin' this?" He asked gently.

She was trapped, unable to tear her gaze from his. "Because," she whispered, hoping that would be enough explanation for now, at least.

Vin's lips curved slightly and he nodded, releasing her from his stare. CC exhaled, then with one last glance around the living room, led Tanner out the back door and to another vehicle, which was already loaded with several boxes and suitcases.

After he'd climbed into the Jeep Liberty, she advised, "You better put on your seatbelt."

He frowned, glancing at her, so she reached across him to secure him in the seat, flushing as her fingers brushed against him. She licked her suddenly dry lips and fumbled with the catch, her hand caressing his hip. "So.. sorry," she murmured breathlessly as she latched the seatbelt, then hurried to the driver's side. She started the engine, almost missing his husky reply, "'S alright, ma'am."

CC backed the SUV out of the driveway, pausing to stare at her home. She smiled at the quaint Victorian charm that had caused her to fall in love with the house, then squeezing her eyes shut and wiping away the tears which spilled, resolutely drove away, not looking back.

As CC sped east through the clear night away from Quathechins, away from New Mexico, she had no idea where she was going, but stealing a quick glance at her companion, she knew it was going to be a hell of a journey....

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