Archive of Our Own

Title: Enterprise SS- Meetings (Do you remember when...) (1/1)
Author: redsilkribbons
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Beta: Thanks to illogicalyet for helping me plot out this universe and betaing.
Series: Star Trek XI
Characters/Pairings: Pretty much all the major st:xi characters will pop up. K/S preslash.
Summary: High school AU. This is the second of a series of fics in this universe.
Word Count: ~3000
Disclaimer: Not my characters; no profit being made.
A/N: Second in the series. Feedback is appreciated; feel free to leave concrit. First part here
Also posted here

*********************

The first time Bones sees Jim Kirk, the kid is gleefully flattening mini-mountains of sand with a monster truck. Bones grudgingly admires his technique but is distracted when Henry Cho drafts him for a game of tag. He is, after all, a puffed up first grader. He has better things to do than stand around envying kindergartners for their kick-ass monster trucks. It's almost the end of recess when Bones, flushed and sweating, finds himself back near the sandbox. The kid has since acquired ripped pants and a grazed knee and is loudly informing the teacher on duty that this was his truck that he'd been playing with all recess. The harried-looking teacher is attempting to mediate between Jim and another sullen-looking child, who is holding onto the toy for dear life.

"That's enough, boys!" snaps Mr. Young, drawing himself up authoritatively. "You're not supposed to have toys from home on the playground." He holds out his hand expectantly, to no avail. Finally, relying on the element of surprise, he plucks it from the other boy's hands. Sand trickles from the truck onto Mr. Young's shiny black shoes. He huffs, "I shall leave this with your teacher and she can do what needs to be done with you two." He scowls at the playground at large and goes back to counting down the minutes to the end of the period.

Both boys glare at each other with the ferocity of little lions as they disperse and Bones rolls his eyes. Kindergartners are such infants sometimes. Jim regroups beside an abandoned tetherball pole and is distracted from his sulking by his feet. Bones watches with growing irritation as the kid attempts to re-tie his errant shoelaces. Finally, unable to condone such abuse of the bunny-ear method, he stomps up to Jim.

"Hey, kid! Hasn't anyone taught you to do that properly?"

"I can do it," the kid insists, twisting up his fingers in a manner that should be physiologically unsound.

Bones sighs. "Here, watch me." He efficiently demonstrates on his own shoe. Jim watches carefully and tries again, tongue between his teeth. He manages a passable, if lopsided, bow and smiles, wide and unselfconscious, at Bones.

"Cool! Thanks! I'm Jim." Here he holds out a grubby hand which Bones takes immediately.

"I'm Leonard, but everyone calls me Bones."

"Ooh, why?" asks Jim.

Bones shrugs. "My Dad's Leonard too, so I'm Bones. It's just one of those things." This is a phrase used by one of his uncles to great effect and Bones is pleased to see that Jim looks suitably impressed.

"That's cool," Jim says. "Wanna check out the monkey bars? I've been trying this upside-down trick for awhile now. I'll show you."

Bones considers this and deems it acceptable. He's sick of tag anyways.

*********************

Uhura likes orchestra. She's played the alto sax since she was eight and is finding the orchestra in her new high school small but skilled. She knows she's one of the best in the woodwinds section. So she likes orchestra. But really, Uhura loves jazz. She listens to all kinds of music and appreciates classical; she's learned it for years. However, Uhura is convinced that nothing- nothing in her fourteen-year existence- compares to the pure and transcendent free-fall that comes when she plays jazz.

So when Uhura goes to the practise room one day after school, she sees a boy from the strings section playing 'Sweet Georgia Brown' expertly on the violin. She recognizes him as one of the rich kids. They're not known for socializing outside their ranks. When he see her hesitating in the doorway, though, he gives her a little smile, so she walks in and begins putting together her instrument. They exist together in awkward silence for a beat and then the boy says, "You play the saxophone admirably."

"Thank you. That was well done too."

The boy nods, stiff and pink-cheeked.

"I didn't think anyone at this school played jazz," Uhura blurts.

The boy flushes further and straightens his back. "While not traditional to the extent of classical music, jazz is particularly challenging. It is widely considered to be one of the most dynamic and far-reaching genres of music in existence," he says. He's holding his violin bow tightly and gazing at his sheet music as though it holds some of the secrets of the universe.

"Oh no!" Uhura interjects quickly. "No I didn't mean- I mean I love jazz. It's just that it doesn't seem to be a popular choice around here. That was 'Sweet Georgia Brown,' right?"

"Yes," the boy says, looking surprised.

"I'm Uhura," she says. "We should play together sometime. Um. If you want, you know?"

"I am Spock. I would welcome such an opportunity." He is smiling a very little smile now.

*********************

Sulu adjusts the lily just so on the windowsill of his new office. Looking around the space, Sulu realizes he may have gone overboard with the motivational posters. He doesn't want to create an environment that feels smothering, after all. After some deliberation, he elects to remove the 'Leadership is...' and keep the 'Believe and Succeed'.

He's setting up everything a week or so before classes start. Apart from the grizzled school groundskeeper who let him in, Sulu has the place mostly to himself. He takes the chance to get his bearings a bit, wandering the halls aimlessly. He finds the staff room fairly quickly. It's filled with mismatched tables and chairs of varying serviceability and has a fridge, sink and counter. Some of the fridge magnets catch his eye and Sulu goes to examine them.

He is poking at the coffee maker when someone coughs behind him. He wheels around in surprise, shoes squeaking on the linoleum. Sulu winces. There's a young man at one of the tables with a laptop open in front of him. There are papers strewn about beside him.

"Um. Hey," Sulu says. "I'm, um, the new Guidance Counselor?"

"It is good to meet you," the man acknowledges. "I am Pavel Chekov. I teach Physics here." He looks at Sulu expectantly.

"Oh! Yes. That's good. I'm Hikaru Sulu. The Guidance Counselor. I was just moving into my office and getting a handle on the place you know?" Sulu smiles in a way he knows for a fact is charming.

Chekov is amused. "It is very good to be prepared in advance. I am finishing my lesson plan."

"That's great. Good luck," Sulu replies, unsure of what to do with this information. Chekov is gathering his papers into slightly organized looking piles.

"The coffee here is very bad, yes? If you want I can show you very nice coffee shop. It is five minutes away."

"Lead the way, Mr. Chekov," says Sulu, closing the staff room door.

*********************

It's second the semester of grade nine when Spock walks into his physics class and notes the absence of Ms. Gaila. Ms. Gaila has been the best physics teacher Spock has ever had. Her grasp on quantum theory is truly formidable. So when Mr. Chekov introduces himself, Spock is feeling uncharitable. Mr. Chekov is too young and too wide eyed and his voice squeaks.

So far second semester has been fraught with little disasters. Spock's new schedule leaves him no time to get to his locker between classes and Uhura has a different lunch period than his, so they can no longer commandeer a practice room and play. This leaves Spock at loose ends during his lunch hour. He briefly considers joining S'rek and Stonn and the rest of their group- his group, Spock reminds himself. The idea is distasteful to him. Their company has been... unsatisfactory of late.

As a result, Spock takes to wandering the hallways. He happens upon his physics classroom and finds his excitable new physics teacher clacking furiously on the chalk board. Mr. Chekov turns when Spock shuffles his feet. He has a fine stripe of chalk dust on his nose from where he pushed up his glasses. Spock stares from his teacher to the board.

Chekov smiles and gestures at the chaos behind him. "I am looking at the work in new Journal of Physics article, yes? It is about entanglement in continuous-variable systems. Very Interesting."

Spock takes a small involuntary step forward. "I know the article you are speaking of. The finer points of the math, however, continue to elude me." Spock looks almost hopeful.

Chekov basks in the warm glow of a pupil that is both willing and able, and says, "you are very dedicated student, Mr. Spock. It is good to keep up with research, yes? If you want, I will go through the work with you."

Spock nods and takes a seat at the front of the class, paper and pen at the ready.

When he next sees Stonn, he has to regretfully inform him that even though he no longer practices for orchestra, he has a standing appointment at lunchtime.

*********************

It's Scotty's last year of high school. His University applications are in the system and ready to be sent out when Principle Pike signs off on everyone's transcripts. He's all set, really. Which is why he's at a loss when his homeroom teacher tells him to go see Mr. Sulu. Mr. Sulu is new this year and Scotty hasn't ever spoken him. So, confused but curious, Scotty finds himself sitting across from Mr. Sulu at the beginning of his English period.

"Mr. Montgomery Scott," Sulu says in greeting.

Scotty nods, "Tha's me, sir. You can call me Scotty."

"So," Sulu begins conversationally, "this is your last semester, huh? How is it going?"

Scotty shrugs. "Pretty well, I reckon, sir." Mr. Sulu is looking at him earnestly. Scotty can see that he will take awhile to get to the point. He slouches down into his seat, leans back and waits.

"I see, Scotty, that you're applying to Starfleet University?"

"Tha's right. Is there a problem with my paperwork?"

"Oh no," Sulu reassures. "The only thing I was concerned about is that your not sending out any other applications."

"SFU is the only place I want to go," Scotty says.

Sulu leans forwards and says, "Look, Scotty, I think your determination and ambition are wonderful. I've looked at your transcripts and I think they'd be lucky to have you. I just don't want you feel like SFU is the only option. You have tremendous potential and I'm concerned that you're boxing yourself in."

Scotty blinks. "The thing is, sir," says Scotty waving his hands expansively, "SFU is working on this beauty of a submarine."

"A... submarine?" repeats Sulu blankly.

"Tha's right. She's supposed to be for deep sea research... first of her kind. If I go there I'll be able to get my hands on her by third year. I already have this idea for how to improve resistance to water pressure." Scotty is suddenly bright-eyed and animated.

Sulu makes another feeble attempt. "It's really great that your passionate about this, Scotty. But you may want to cultivate multiple options."

"S'alright, sir" Scotty reassures. "If SFU won't have me I'll sign up with the navy. They're doing some very interesting work with battleships."

"Of course," says Sulu.

"Is tha' it then?" asks Scotty looking around the office.

"I suppose so. All the best, Scotty."

"Thanks, sir." Scotty ambles out of the office.

Sulu's head hits his desk with a thunk.

*********************

Jim is debating between playing soccer with Bones and some other eleventh graders or attending the first meeting of the Chess Club. The soccer game promises to be interesting because Henry Cho and Lara Giuseppe are playing on opposing teams. The competition between the two is, apparently, legendary. But Jim has been playing chess all summer against a computer. He wants to see how he measures up against real players. He decides to stop by at the Chess Club. If it's boring, he can always bail. The club is meeting in one of the Sociology classrooms, oddly enough. Jim gets there and finds that chess is not popular amongst the youth of Enterprise S.S. There are five students there, four of them already paired up. Jim takes a seat at the table near the window, across from the only unpaired boy.

"Hey," Jim says. "So this is chess club?"

The boy looks pointedly at the empty board between them and replies, "It would seem so. I am Spock. What appellation do you prefer?"

Jim stops himself from laughing out loud by strength of will alone. "Hey Spock. I'm Jim. Do you play often?"

"I play when I am able," Spock replies. "I very rarely find other players who are at a suitable skill level."

Jim leans forward and asks, "That good are you?" When Spock blushes slightly Jim realizes he may be flirting a little bit.

"I am sure, Jim, that you will find I am highly proficient." Spock's face is grave but his eyes make are amused.

"Well, then. I'll just have to make you work for it," Jim smirks.

Spock is still pink but remains otherwise unfazed. He begins separating the black and white pieces. "Have you played before, Jim?" he asks.

"Only the computer. But I think I've really got it down. Do you want black or white?"

"As you are the beginner, I will play black," Spock decides. He swiftly arranges the board and Jim begins.

Two and a half hours later, the classroom is empty save for the two boys at the table near the window. They are on their third game, having won one apiece already. Bones tramples in after his match, to find Jim glowing and utterly uninterested in hearing the blow-by-blow account of Henry Cho's bloody but ultimately noble defeat.

*********************

When Jim is twelve and Bones is thirteen, Bones falls soundly in lust with Rina Jain. Rina Jain is a year ahead of Bones and has a taste for swishy skirts and dangling earrings. She'll be going to high school next year. Bones is devastated at their inevitable parting, despite the fact that she has only ever said four words to him.

"So I picked up the earring and ran down the hall," Bones slurs between sips of his too-cold smoothie, "and when I gave it to her, she said 'thanks. You're so sweet.' Jim, are you listening? 'You're so sweet.' Jim!"

Jim noisily sucks up the last of his milkshake before he deigns to reply. "Dude. I know. You've been going on about this for half an hour."

"Some friend you are," he says. He's doing that thing where he fluffs up his hair with his hand. Jim rolls his eyes. When Jim told Bones that some girls in his history class thought the hair-fluffing made Bones look romantically tortured and hot, Bones had just snorted and said that he didn't care what sixth graders thought.

"I don't know what you expect me to do. I'm just a sixth grader, remember?" It may be possible that Jim is still miffed.

"Oh come on, Jimmy. You know I didn't mean you," Bones sighs. "Besides it's summer. You're practically a seventh grader now."

Jim decides to let it go and turns his attention to the problem at hand. "If you want Rina Jain, you're going to have to, you know, talk to her."

"How am I supposed to talk to her if she's gonna be off in high school. There'll be high school boys everywhere."

"So maybe you should ask a high school boy for help."

"Hey, that's not a bad plan," says Bones. "I could, you know, find someone on the inside track."

"The inside track of high school?" Jim is skeptical.

"You know who we need?"

"Who you need," Jim clarifies snottily.

"Monty Scott." Bones looks positively gleeful.

"The British guy who graduated?"

"Yeah. He was my reading buddy in grade four."

"That's an unbreakable bond, really Bones," scoffs Jim. "Do you even know where he is this summer?"

"He's at the mall. I'm telling you, Jim, he's the perfect candidate. He's awesome with girls; he dated that Jen girl for a whole year." Bones gets a faraway look on his face. "We spent all of third period reading the Captain Underpants series."

"Why would he be at the mall?" asks Jim.

"He works at the Mr. Sub," says Bones.

Jim is accosted by hazy visions of a summer filled with discount footlongs and free drinks. He shrugs. "Okay. I guess Monty Scott is an acceptable candidate for recruitment. Let's go to the mall."

"I've already got the bus schedule," replies Bones.

Rina Jain moves to the East Coast at the end of the summer.

Poor Scotty will never be the same.

*********************