Lost and Found
A one-shot by Ellipsis the Great
Summary: A background story for Hikaru Sulu set before he joins Starfleet. Hikaru/Pavel friendship.
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to J.J. Abrams, Gene Roddenberry, and all those other cool cats who own it. All I own is the plot!
Rating: T because I can't write without using at least one cuss word
Hikaru Sulu's first ride, at five, is a tricycle that is a hand-me-down from his sister, but he enjoys the feeling of the wind in his hair too much to care about even the pink handlebars, wheels, and seat. Within a few days of getting it he has established himself as the fastest trike-rider at Miss Gigi's Day Care Center, and for his birthday his parents give him a bike—an honest-to-goodness brand new bike of his very own.
When he's seven he takes over mowing their tiny lawn with the riding mower, and even though the neighbors say he's too young for it they still hire him to mow their lawns, too.
That's how he learns to drive, and he saves up the money from that and bike racing (he's the best bike racer on his block and enters tons of street competitions, which there are more of than you'd think) so that on the day he turns sixteen he can buy his very own car. It's a piece of shit, sure, but it's all his and his sisters never got hold of it, so even if the hood (teal) doesn't match the rest of it (blue) at least there's no pink or purple anywhere.
He starts street racing when he's seventeen, and even though his car's a total shit-mobile he manages to win enough races to get invited to a big race the next county over. And by then he's made enough money to buy a new car—still shitty, but more suited to racing—so he spends the next month getting used to the new car's quirks.
Then he goes to the contest and loses spectacularly because, oh yeah, did we neglect to mention that you won't be given a map? And that we're taking your GPS system so you can't cheat? Oops, good luck finding your way to the finish line!
Shit, Hikaru has only just gotten the hang of getting around San Francisco (and yeah, okay, San Francisco is a big, confusing city, but he grew up there and still gets lost in parts of town he's spent his entire life in), so how in the hell is he supposed to navigate some other city just like that?
He's sitting on the side of the road and wondering if it's cheating if he goes to a gas station and asks for directions when this girl with an easy smirk and grease marks on her cheeks finds him and tells him they put a tracking device in while they took his GPS out. So he follows her to the finish line, pretends to laugh at himself and with everyone else, and realizes that they do this to every newcomer. That's why some of the other drivers have someone with them—that's their navigator, who totally does have a map.
They invite him to the next race, which is in six months, and he agrees. Asks if there's some club or something that they go to for a navigator, but of course there isn't. They just wish him luck, tell him they'll give him a map next time whether or not he's got a navigator, and drive off.
He can't ask his sisters, because his family doesn't exactly know about his little hobby—they think he's at the school greenhouse or fencing club. And he does go to both of those places sometimes, because he enjoys doing those things, too, but he likes driving more than he could ever like anything else.
He can't ask his friends, because he doesn't really have any. He spends so much time everywhere else that he doesn't really have time for friends, although he does have a few casual acquaintances. He definitely can't ask them.
And he definitely, definitely can't be his own navigator. He's never been able to read a map, and he's got the worst sense of direction ever. Heck, sometimes he gets lost even with a GPS.
So he figures he'll just have to pull out of the race which sucks hardcore balls. He considers calling the guy in charge, but thinks what the hell? It's only been a month; maybe a miracle will happen.
And, impossibly, a miracle does happen.
It starts with getting lost. But it isn't really his fault, this time, because he's never been to this part of town before and his GPS is on the fritz—his parents say they're going to buy him a new one, but that just means he's waiting until one of his sisters gets a new one so he can have their old one, so he's saving up.
He thinks he knows where he is, though, so he picks a road and starts driving. Naturally, he actually has no fucking idea where he is, so he gets even more lost and eventually just gives up and settles into an internet café for the night.
That's when an honest-to-God miracle walks right into his life.
"Excuse, excuse." A hand touches his shoulder gently and he looks up from his cup of coffee at this kid with curly hair and eyes as wide as plates. "Sorry, you know vhere Store-fleet A-kea-di-me ees?"
The kid talks carefully, pronouncing each syllable like it's a chore, but his accent is still ridiculously thick.
"Sorry, kid, I'm totally lost." He mutters, and looks back down at his drink.
"Ai." The kid flops into the chair across from him, dropping his head to the table with a thud that makes Hikaru wince.
Hikaru stares at him for a moment, then sighs. "So what happened?"
The kid stiffens, then looks up at him without taking his head up off of the table—Christ, he looks like a fucking puppy—and sighs. "Driwer does not come to airport, Store-fleet says to vait un-teel morning."
"Are we near the airport?" Hikaru asks, blinking, and the kids laughs.
"Ees down zhe road." The kid says. "You are wery lost, da? New to San Fran-sees-ko?"
"Yes I'm very lost, no I'm not new to San Francisco. I grew up here." He says miserably.
Another giggle squeaks out of the kid before he can stop it. "Ah."
Hikaru glares at him, but it's even harder to stay mad at this kid than it would be to stay mad at a puppy, so eventually he just sighs and says, "I'm Hikaru, by the way. Hikaru Sulu."
"Pavel Andreievich Chekov." The kid says. "You ken call me Pavel, Meester Sulu."
"Hikaru's fine." He says.
"Hee-kah-roo." Pavel says slowly, testing the name on his lips.
Hikaru thinks his laugh is just payback for earlier, so he only muffles it a little. When Pavel grins at him, he grins back.
"Why're you going to Starfleet Academy?" He asks.
"I en-leest-ed. I start on Monday." Pavel says.
"Enlisted? But you're only—"
"Thirteen, da." Pavel says with a slight frown that must come from getting this a lot.
"Oh. Damn." Hikaru says. "That's fucking awesome."
Pavel blinks, and then smiles so brilliantly that it's a wonder Hikaru doesn't go blind.
Hikaru clears his throat awkwardly. "Well…I'm kind of direction-stupid, obviously, and my GPS is shot, but I've got a map in the back of my car somewhere. If you can point the Academy out, maybe we can figure out how to get there."
"I ken read maps wery vell." Pavel says. "I vill be zhe nawigator."
Hikaru is pretty sure Pavel is picking his words on purpose, just to give him the giggles. So he clenches his teeth together and stands. "Sweet. You want a drink before we leave?"
"Nyet, I am not wery thirsty."
Hikaru narrows his eyes, because that time the 'w' was even more drawn out than before, but Pavel's eyes are wide and his smile is innocent and maybe Hikaru is just paranoid. So he shakes his head and leads the kid out to his car, handing him the map that's stuffed into the back of his seat.
"Ees wery clean." Pavel says as he looks around the car, which isn't just clean—it's immaculate.
"I like things to be clean." Hikaru says, inexplicably embarrassed.
Pavel hums thoughtfully and unfolds the map, muttering to himself in a language that is harsh and guttural—Eastern European, Hikaru thinks. After a much shorter moment than Hikaru would have expected, he points to two places on the map. "Ve are here and Store-fleet ees here." When Hikaru's expression stays blank, Pavel giggles and says, "I ken tell you vhen to turn."
"That's what I'm talkin' about." Hikaru says, and starts the car. Pavel jumps when he peels out of the parking spot.
"Ai! Hee-kah-roo, you are crazy!" Pavel screeches, but he's still smiling and there's an excited glint in his eyes that makes Hikaru go just a little faster. "Pravo, pra—er, right! Go right here!"
"Right, got it." Hikaru says, and turns, heart reveling in the squealing sounds of screeching tires and Pavel's laughter.
They get to the Academy in record time (literally), and they're laughing so hard when they screech to a halt that they can't even get their seatbelts off. Hikaru thinks it's awesome—he's only ever driven like this when he's alone, because his family would freak out and he's actually never driven with anyone other than his family. Driving with Pavel is even better than driving by himself, and Pavel doesn't seem to mind going fast (actually, he seems to like it as much as Hikaru does).
"What're you doing in three months?" Hikaru asks when their laughter finally begins to taper off.
"Three months?" Pavel repeats (he's totally doing that on purpose). "Zhat vill be…Veenter Holidays. I do not go home, so…I vill do nuh-sink. Vhy?"
"Well…I street race." Hikaru says, suddenly wondering if this is maybe not such a good idea. Hell, this kid's some kind of genius or something; why would he want to go street racing with some weirdo he just met? "And I kinda need a navigator for this big race."
"Ah!" Pavel's eyes light up. "I vill nawigate for you, da?"
"Could you?" Hikaru asks.
"Da, yes!" Pavel says. "I nawigate, you driwe, ve vill vin beeg!"
Hikaru laughs and thinks that having a bad sense of direction might be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
(SO WHAT KIND OF PAGEBREAK TRAINING DO YOU HAVE?)
So Hikaru gets arrested for street racing the month after the big race (where he actually came in third, largely thanks to Pavel finding a sweet shortcut). He uses his one phone call to call Pavel, because his parents would murder him, and Pavel shows up in his Starfleet uniform (he looks so effing cute Hikaru just wants to hug him forever) with some older guy in tow who looks very important.
"Thanks, Pavel." He says, eyeing the other guy. "I swear to God I'll pay you back once I can get to an ATM."
"Ees okay." Pavel waves him off. "Hee-kah-roo, zhis ees Ad-meer-ul Jonathon Archer. Ad-meer-ul, zhis ees zhe driwer I vas tell-ink you about."
Archer arches an eyebrow at him, giving him a scrutinizing look. "Mr. Sulu."
"Mister—er, I mean, Admiral Archer." Hikaru says, standing a little straighter, because holy shit this is fucking Admiral Archer.
Archer stares at him for a moment longer, looking decidedly unimpressed, and then says, "Mr. Chekov tells me you are an exceptional driver."
"I…I street race a little, sir." He sputters. "I've won a few."
"But you got caught." Archer says, and that actually seems to be why he's frowning at Hikaru so much.
"Yes, sir."
"Have you ever driven anything besides a car?"
"My uncle has a speedboat; I've driven it a few times but not since last year."
Archer pauses, then clucks his tongue and scowls at Hikaru. "Don't be so damned uptight, kid, I'm here to recruit you, not bite your head off."
Hikaru blinks. "Re…recruit me, sir?"
"Not too bright, are you?" Archer asks.
"Hee-kah-roo is wery smart." Pavel pipes up, frowning.
Archer rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say. Look, Sulu, Pavel thinks you could be a pilot for Starfleet. I don't usually listen to teenagers, but he's a persistent little shit and showed me a holovid of some race you were in. I've gotta say I was a little impressed by your driving." Archer's eyes narrow. "Think you could pilot a starship like you can drive a car?"
Hikaru's mouth works silently for a few minutes before his voice finally starts working again. "I could sure as hell try. Uh, sir."
Archer snorts, harrumphs, and says, "You'd better. I missed dessert because of this shit." And then he turns and leaves.
He stares after him for a moment, and then looks at Pavel, whose cheeks have got to be permanently sore from all of the smiling he does. "Pavel, you…"
"You vill be a vonderful pilot." Pavel says, clapping him on the shoulder. "And I vill be your nawigator!"
All Hikaru can do is laugh and hug him.
The Beginning.
A/N: I didn't think I'd write any more of these two as main characters, but lo and behold, I have!
And what's this? Bones doesn't even make a short cameo? DD8 Sad day, brain, sad day.
Oh, well. It was fun to kind of explore Sulu's background, even if it's as totally wrong as I think it is. XD I'm sure it's obvious, but I don't know anything about cars, street racing, or San Francisco, so many apologies for inconsistencies or whatever; lots of creative license was used in the writing of this story. And I'm sorry about Chekov's accent. A lee-tle sorry. :B
Hope you all enjoyed it!