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Jennifer Grayson opened up the refrigerator and took out the half empty carton of milk from the top shelf. She also reached in and took out the tub of margarine that sat next to the milk. She closed the door and walked over to the kitchen table where her two kids were sitting.

Austin was her oldest child, and he was sixteen years old. He was a good kid, but like his father, Frank, he was head strong. Austin had already been in three fights this year at school year, and it was only mid January. But Austin had a hero complex, again, just like his father. He would always defend those who couldn't defend themselves which was the only reason keeping him from being expelled. All three fights were against the school bully who had nothing better to do than to make fun of the handicapped children than attended the school right next to her son' school.

Jennifer's other child was Amber. She was fourteen years old, and already she held the world in her hand; an Iphone. They had caved into her demands to have text messaging, and that meant every hour of the day, when she was not at school, was spent glued to that cellphone and its text messaging, games, Facebook connection; the whole nine yards.

It was nearly 5:30pm and that meant that Frank would be coming through the front door at any moment. Tonight she had made his favorite meal; Tostadas. Frank had recently been on a Tostada kick, which was alright with Jennifer, since they were easy to make.

Moments later, just like clockwork, Frank came through the front door. He placed his wallet and keys on the small counter near the door. Jennifer really loved her husband's rugged nature, the free spirit that came through his personality. And, it didn't hurt that he looked like a cross between Brad Pitt and Nicholas Cage.

Jennifer walked over to the front door area to greet Frank. He was hanging up his jacket in the closet that was situated right next to the front door.

"Hello honey." She said to him.

He turned to her and took her into his arms. He kissed her on the lips, while letting his hand slide down to her shapely rear end, which was couched in a nice pair of faded blue jeans. She stopped his hand's approach and raised it back up to her back.

"Honey, the kids are watching." She whispered.

Frank looked past her at the kitchen and saw the two kids. Austin was busy pouring a glass of soda, but Amber was watching and giggling.

"Damn," Frank said with a whisper. "You're lucky, because one day I am going to come through that door and the kids are not going to be looking and then nothing is going to stop my hand from, well…who know what."

She gave him a coy smile. "I can only dream." She said as she winked at him.

They both walked into their modest kitchen, sat down, and began to eat dinner with the kids. As they did, the TV on the kitchen counter was on. An episode of the Simpsons was entertaining the kids as Frank and Jennifer spoke.

"How was work?" She asked as she placed another Tostada on Frank's plate.

Frank shook his head. "They let Mr. Wilkes go today. He has been working on the line for fifteen years, and just like that, they let him go."

She shook her head. "That's too bad, I remember him from the company picnic. He seemed like a nice man."

Frank nodded. "He was. This economy has to start turning around, or I may even be on the chopping block."

Jennifer sipped from her glass of wine. "You just make sure you're the only one who can do what you do and you'll be fine."

He kissed her, and let his eyes wander down to the top part of her cleavage, which was like a beacon, calling to his eyes. She put her fingers on his chin, and raised his gaze back to hers.

"Sorry honey," she said, "it's that time of the month." She said with a whisper.

The kids had already moved into the living room and were still watching the Simpsons, but on the larger livingroom TV. Frank helped Jennifer by clearing the table and helping her do the dishes.

"We have kids for this." Frank said as he handed her another washed plate.

"I know we do." She said to him. "But Tuesday night is our night to do dishes." She added.

"Well," Frank added, "I thought by having two kids we would also get to enjoy the luxury of forced labor on them."

"Oh, by the way," Jennifer said to him, "Austin got into another fight today."

"Who was it with this time?" Frank asked.

"It was with that same boy again. That bully was picking on a boy who had Parkinson's disease. Austin got into it with that bully, and then they got into a fight. From what I hear though," Jennifer said with a brief smile, "Austin kicked his ass today."

"We have to change this behavior of his, Jen." Frank said to her as he scrubbed out a cup of dried chocolate milk. "He needs to grow up."

"This is coming from the man who beat up my ex-boyfriend in the twelfth grade because you wanted to date me?" She said with a slight laugh.

Frank stopped for a second. "Well, that isn't the point." Frank said.

She stopped drying the dishes and put her arms around his neck. "He is a lot like you Frank. If one else would have saved that unfortunate kid, then who would have? Our son is going to make some girl happy someday because he is so compassionate."

He leaned in and kissed her. "Well, I will have a talk with him."

She turned back to the dishes. "You might want to ask about the joint I found in his backpack today."

Frank stood back, "Ummm… the what?"

She looked to him with a wry smile. "Hey, don't you get all huffy with him. If I recall you were 13 when your dad caught..."

He cut her off. "Look, we have to start dealing with him like he was an adult. Just because I was some wild hell bent kid, doesn't mean he needs to be."

"But that was your charm back then, and it's his now." She replied. "Oh, ground him, I think you should. But go easy on him Frank. As I recall, your dad let you find your own way and you turned out just fine."

"Yeah," Frank said, "but times are different."

Frank would talk with the boy and try to change his ways as best as he could; but not by force. His wife was right; Austin need to fight his own battles, and live with the consequences of his actions.


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Later that night it was time for bed at last. The kids were in their rooms, and Frank and Jennifer were in their bad, together. She was on her side facing him as he was on his back. He rolled over on his side to face her. They kissed.

"Things will be okay at your work." She said to him.

He slid his hand up her thigh, only to find that she was wearing panties.

"Oh yeah," Frank said, "that time of month." He said he skipped his hand past their original target and up to her shoulders. They kissed again and prepared to sleep.


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Nearly two hours later Frank was in a deep sleep. In his mind he was aboard the USS ENTERPRISE. He could see Kirk and Spock, on the bridge, the Enterprise being attacked by a Romulan ship. Kirk turned to the helmsman, but it wasn't Sulu. It was him; Frank Grayson.

"Fire the phasers!" Kirk demanded of his new helmsman.


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Meanwhile, as Frank slept, storm clouds had gathered over the city of San Diego, where Frank and his family lived. It was one of those summer storms than came up through the Mexican desert and swooped in tons of moisture, and thunder storms, into the San Diego area. The lightning flared across San Diego County, while waking many, but not all. Frank, who had lived back in Texas in his youth, was used to far worse storm activity. He slept through the entire storm; peacefully and why not; he was board the famed Star Trek ship for most of the night, in his dreams.

And then it happened; the clouds gave off a strange pulse of energy. It wasn't lightning, it was something else…and it swept over the city below. And as it turned out; it wasn't some stray lightning bolt, or anything like that; it was man made!


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Due to the storm activity during the night, the power had gone out. Frank woke up late and had little time to get ready for work. He threw on some clothes, and woke Jennifer so she could get the kids up and ready for school. Moments later, after putting on his jacket, he reached for his wallet, keys, and something else he didn't recognize, but took it anyway because it was probably his anyway.

He zipped out to the garage, got into his pure black 2011 mustang and headed off to work.

Twenty minutes later, the black Mustang that Frank drove was stuck in stop and go traffic due to a car wreck somewhere up ahead. He turned up the volume of his stereo, and listened to the radio. Some group called the Bravery was blaring away. He had never heard of them before, but liked the sound. As he got older he found himself being more open to his wife's crazy music tastes, The Carpenters-Air Supply-heck, even Barry Manilow. But when he was alone in the car; it was ROCK!

As he sat, bored, in his car, Frank slid his hands into the right front pocket of his jacket. Expecting to find his wallet, he found something else. He pulled it out. It looked his cellphone for second, but looking closer he could see it wasn't. It was a toy the thought because it looked just like a communicator from the old Star Trek show. He knew it couldn't be his son's because, first off, he was too old for toys, and second, his son was a big Star Wars fan and hated Star Trek. So whom did it belong to?

With nothing but time to kill, and traffic to endure, he flipped open the communicator and, like any man his age would, said those immortal words. "Kirk… to Enterprise." He even used Shatner's staccato way of speaking.

He smiled at himself, and then looked over to his right. Several teenagers, on their way to school, were in the car next to his. Two of the teenage girls saw him, holding the communicator, and laughed.

Feeling embarrassed, Frank prepared to put the toy into his glove box when suddenly a red light on the communicator toy started flashing. He looked at it brought it closer so he could see the blinking light. He reached up with his index finger and pressed the red flashing button.

"Huh," he said as he prepared to put it into the glove box. Suddenly he started feeling funny, and his stomach began to churn wildly inside. He felt dizzy, and then…..he was transported away. His car was instantly empty.


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