The Beginning

Spock was thinking of absolutely nothing in particular when the grey confined transport shuttle finally entered the landing dock of Starfleet Academy, something which was a rather surreal experience for him. He felt the machine come to a stop and stood in response, slightly stretching his legs from their previous cramped position as the pistons within the transport engine slowly fell silent. Only then did his thought process begin. Spock knew that if he didn't hurry, he would be trapped behind the other occupants of the shuttle- teaching staff as well as a few admirals-, and be forced to wait as they in turn exited the small space. It was a problem which came from sitting at the very far back. Such a position was ideal during a trip as he found that people were less likely to sit there, for reasons which had always eluded him, allowing for relative peace and quiet. With this said however, it did become more of a problem when one was in need to get of said transport quickly.

He willed his legs to move, and within seconds his long stride had carried him past the others and placed his body in front of the grey door which had yet to open. He suppressed a sigh of annoyance, staring at the grey, his eyes roving over the platinum features, stopping his fingers just as they started to tap against his thigh. He was in need of meditation. It was one of the reasons why he had planned to get to his assigned room early. He needed silence and stillness to arrange his thoughts; there was no use trying to control the space of emotion and thought within him if the environment around him was equally as uncontrolled. It would be pointless.

He heard the others moving around him, taking things from seats and stretching, just as he himself had, before hearing a distinctively excessive groan to his right and then a familiar chuckle.

"Don't worry Spock, the Academy isn't going anywhere."

He turned to the man beside him who had spoken, raising an eyebrow and looked at him questionably, allowing a hint of feigned confusion to touch his features.

"I was not aware it was previously capable of leaving its present residence to be able to 'go anywhere' at all, Admiral Calari," he asked, tilting his head to the side. "Has such a thing changed since I returned home?"

The aging, yet by no means weak or frail admiral chuckled again. As a teacher- and a good one at that- in advanced astrophysical dynamics and dimensional gravity wave lengths he was a man Spock had grown to respect over the course of his cadet years. As he got older he continued to find it harder and harder to discover other members of Starfleet who were able to match his intellect in many of his chosen fields. Though in no way meeting his own intellectual power, he found that the admiral was able to provide interesting ideas on certain topics which Spock himself had surprisingly never thought of. Escaping his peers now and then to go to talk to the admiral, he deduced, had probably kept him going mindlessly insane over the four years he was studying at the academy.

"You just love twisting my words don't you boy?" Calari said, shaking his head and picking up a black bag from an opposite seat. He moved to stand next to Spock in front of the still unopened door.

The corner of the Vulcan's lip twitched upwards.

The admiral was also one of the few human and alien species alike who did not look at him in either confusion or stupidity when presented with a statement such as his previous one.

He graced the older man with a surprised look. "I assure you Sir, my words are sincere."

Another chuckle. "I'm sure.

"Truly."

He shook his head. "Don't worry Spock. I know that you're laughing at us constantly in that smart head of yours. You may fool the rest of the population with those convoluted statements of yours, but not me," he said, clasping the Vulcan on the shoulder, grinning.

"It is an interesting theory" Spock said, inclining his head and feeling the slight tremors of amusement radiating through the temporary link that the older man had created. The grin widened. That was the coded word between the both of them. An 'interesting theory' being the Vulcan's equivalent of saying that what the man was suggesting was simply absurd.

Despite whether it was or not.

The man shrugged. "Well, how else do you explain your ability to put up with the lot of us?" he asked, letting his hand drop.

Spock's eyebrows rose. "I contemplate such a thing on a daily basis, Sir," he replied just as there was a whining screech and a woosh as the grey doors in front of him finally slid open, splitting from the middle and disappearing with the concave of the shuttle wall. He winced slightly letting the high pitched decibel of sound dissipate within his head and then turned to the admiral. "However over time I have come to just put it down to my very high learning curve Sir," he said, before quickly ducking his head and exiting onto the grated boarding platform. The admirals deep laugh and a quiet 'cheeky bastard' followed him out. His lip twitched as he walked down the provided stairs and onto the stable ground, glancing around.

The transport terminal of Starfleet Academy was a grey structure. Grey and remote. Such an area was lifeless in its disposition, despite the immense crowds of cadets that were transported in and out constantly, creating a mass of colour and movement. Nothing could save the enclosure from being anything other than cold metal and grating. Cold and lifeless. Cold, grey and dead.

Spock frowned slightly. Such negative thoughts were unnecessary and uncommon for him. Nothing had occurred to provoke them. His frown deepened, paying no attention to a red clothed cadet who seemed to skirt around him nervously as it did.

He really needed to meditate

-------------

"Hey Chekov!"

No answer.

"Chekov??"

A slightly tanned hand was waved in front of the young Russians nose. The voice continued even as the seventeen year old kept staring at the objects of intense interest in front of him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hey there! Remember me? Its Hikaru, you know, you're friend? You may have forgotten since you've all but fallen in love with the new transport shuttle upgrades." He heard a chuckle. "I've heard that everything else disappears when that annoying flying cupid angel thing finally hits you with its arrow. But, like, jeez man."

Chekov pulled his eyes away from the tantalising shiny new features attached to the shuttle wall to look at his friend. "I have yet to determine what this equipment is for Sulu. To leave now would not be beneficial to my educational development."

A laugh met his words. "Chekov buddy, this thing will be leaving in about five minutes to go collect some more people. I'm presuming you don't want to still be on it when that happens?"

Chekov shrugged. "Of course not." he replied, moving his eyes back to the wall. "However it only takes approximately five seconds to in fact exit the shuttle, yes? Which means that still leaves me four minutes and 55 seconds for my current evaluations."

He could almost feel Sulu rolling his eyes and before he knew it an arm had grabbed onto the back of his shirt and he was being hauled bodily from the shuttle.

His protests were met with more laughter.

"Don't sweat it man, we'll get you a brochure. I'm sure they'll have one somewhere."

Chekov grumbled incomprehensibly in Russian but allowed himself to be pulled along by his friend.

But not for long.

"Watch it kid!" came a gruff voice as he clipped someone's shoulder sharply with his own. He whipped his head around to look at the man, fumbling a quick apology as he continued to be dragged along by a completely unaware Sulu.

This was staring to turn into a great hazard.

"Play nice Bones", Chekov both heard and saw a grinning blond-haired man say, before he was engulfed once again by the sprawl of people and lost sight of both of them.

"Sulu!" he said in protest as they seemed to increase their speed and Chekov saw his life flash before his eyes.

"Chekov, come on!" he heard his friend say "I think I can see the bags!"

-------------

"Chekov, come on!"

The voice came from Spock's left as a black haired cadet passed quickly in front of him. A jolt against his side followed the voice as another, who was apparently being pulled along by the previous was unable to avoid running into him. They both came up short, standing before him, the older of the two steadying the younger who was looking distinctly angry about something, and pulling him away.

"Sorry man. Didn't see you there."

Evidently.

The older cadet who was first to speak nudged the extremely younger looking one in the side forcing him to look up from the ground where his gaze seemed almost insistently stuck.

"Ah....yes...very sorry," the boy said, a very distinct Russian accent laced through his jolting words. He instantly looked back down again but not before shooting the cadet next to him a small glare.

Curious.

Spock breathed. He himself felt like glaring at the two of them, but restrained the impulse. Vulcan's did not glare. They accepted situations and did not let them affect them. He forced himself to nod at the two cadets. The older grinned nervously in response before moving past him, albeit slowly than before, once again dragging the younger along.

-------------

"Come on." Chekov heard his friend mutter and the hand which had pulled on his arm previously began to do so again. They passed the Vulcan slowly, nearly inching around him, before speeding up again after, Chekov presumed, they were out of sight. "You may have just had your first life or death experience."

Chekov glared at his friend again trying to swat the hand away but to no avail. "I do not believe so, since I've been having such an experience since you all but manhandled me away from the shuttle Hikaru!" he said. "Slow down!"

"No chance buddy!" Sulu replied, laughing. "This is Sulu Express," He explained, once again weaving in and out of the many people. "Which all in all basically means.. ." his friend turned to look at him, grinning. "...no getting off and absolutely no slowing down."

Chekov swallowed closing his eyes in fear and waited for the inevitable end...

...which happened to come only seconds later in the form of a very beautiful woman, who Sulu all but ploughed into, taking Chekov right along with him.

-------------

Spock sighed as he watched the two cadets speed up once again.

He really needed to mediate.

With a solid purpose now situated within his mind Spock began to move swiftly through the milling crowds of people. Almost unconsciously he held his breath. It was an unnecessary physical reaction which accompanied his attempt to stop emotional transfer from the direct contact he was receiving, forming a block within his mind in the process. Unnecessary, yes, but a reaction which always seemed to occur. When he was younger and his father had been stationed at the embassy on Earth, his mother had taken him shopping one afternoon. He could not blame her, for she would not have known that there would be so many people confined within the four walls of the shopping complex. At his age, his mental capabilities to block emotional transfer should have been adequate enough to cope with the nearly physically improbable crowds of people; a fact which his mother more than likely thought was true for him.

It was not.

It took 10 minutes before his lips were turning a faint blue from lack of oxygen as he desperately tried to quiet the many thoughts and emotions within him, illogically holding his breath while trying to do so. From there it took another 10 before he fell unconscious to his mother's worried voice. He woke half an hour later, at home with his mother on one side looking more worried than he would have liked and his father on the other staring at him more inscrutably than he would have liked with one eyebrow raised.

It still surprised him to find the incredible amount of emotion which humans were able to emit on a daily basis and during such a mundane task as collecting sustenance for one's self.

Very intriguing.

Since that time he had trained his mind to manage the quantity of excessive emotion which occurred in crowded places. He was now much more adept at filing them away and paying them no attention.

He could also hold his breath for longer now, his lung capacity increasing with age.

Spock moved fluidly in and out of people avoiding the more largely dense parts of the building, sticking mainly to the grey walls which blessedly did not emote. He stopped and stood straight, looking over the tops of many head, his height coming into advantage. Seeing an opening he ducked quickly through a slightly dissipated section of the crowd, moving a few metres before arriving next to this destination.

The baggage terminal.

Cadets dressed in the red issued Starfleet uniform milled around, each waiting for their own possessions. He sighed, knowing that he too would also be waiting. There was no rushing a machine. His items would come when they came. There was no logical reason to be impatient.

"It's Leonard kid, Leonard," he heard a distinctly southern and slightly irritated voice say. Spock flicked his eyes to the right. Two men stood a few metres away from him, one lounging against a steel pole, the other standing and looking just this side of annoyed.

"Whatever you say Bones," came the reply from the one wearing a black battered leather jacket, a feature which was very out of place among the overall red. He turned his head slightly bringing the two men into better view. He could now see that the older was also not wearing Starfleet issued clothing. Civilians, he decided as the one who had spoken grinned. He turned again to face the moving stream of black silicon material which carried the bags as it circulated around, searching hopefully for his own luggage as the older man threw his hands in the air.

"Why the hell didn't I sit next to the pretty lady sitting opposite us?"

He heard a scoff. "Well, jeez, Leonard, I don't know, maybe because everyone ran about a mile in fright when you said you were going to throw up."

"I said may, boy, may."

"And you really think that makes a difference?"

Spock glanced back at the two men, wondering what purpose of theirs was being served by standing there. Indeed what point was there for them to be in the building at all was beyond him presently. Unless you were a cadet or had some purpose at Starfleet there was no reason to be docking at the academy. From what he could see, neither looked at all like such a thing. In all respect though, he himself could not make assumptions about something to closely without proper information.

A familiar black bag, striped green, caught his vision from the side of his eye and he instantly moved into action, leaving the unknown men behind him arguing. He moved forward, slipping past red shirts, murmuring quiet apologies as he all but pushed his way through the crowd. He reached the conveyer belt just as his own black bag, smaller than many of the others, passed him. He reached out, feeling the rough handle of the bag and reflexively letting his fingers curl around it as he pulled it from the group. Just as he did so a dark skinned hand, in contrast to his pale one, appeared beside him reaching for the deep red bag next to it.

It missed, the fingers scraping the red strap, before falling away as the bag continued along.

"Shit...."

-------------

Uhura had been out the door, off the shuttle and into the immense crowds of people before most had even gotten their belts off. One of her friends had been on another shuttle and before they had boarded they decided that they would meet up outside the docking terminal. It was a smart move Uhura now realised as she watch the masses of cadet's swarm around here. Trying to find anyone in this would be nearly impossible. She heard a familiar voice behind her and she glanced back.

"Looks like you made it out alive Bones" James Kirk said happily as he followed her down the stairs, followed by the guy who had arrived even later than Kirk had onto the shuttle. Both were dressed as civilians, a thing which looked out of place currently. The black jacket that Kirk was wearing looked badly in need of retirement or in the very least some sort or rest. She rolled her eyes as the older man grunted disbelievingly, just as the other caught sight of her and grinned.

She whipped back around and all but threw herself into the moving crowd before Kirk had a chance to catch her or even reach the ground floor. She was not going to get caught by him. She had places to be, people to see; something that would be inhibited by his presence.

Uhura stopped within the masses standing on tip toe, trying to look for the baggage terminal as people now moved around her. Before leaving the populated building she would need to stop at the baggage area to collect her single bag which she had brought which carried within it either only necessary items or ones which she had a particularly strong emotional bond to.

She was thrown from her thoughts when she was suddenly knocked off balance from what she presumed was someone running into her. She stumbled, trying to keep standing. Uhura had nearly resigned herself to the fact that such a thing wasn't going to occur however, when a hand caught hers and quickly jolted her back into place as her world spun for a moment from the fast movement.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," said a cadet with black hair and distinctly Chinese features. He also looked much older than his companion who hardly looked older than her own brother who was only fifteen. The one who had spoken was now grinning apologetically at her and she smiled uncertainly back, before glancing at the younger boy beside him who was quite obviously glaring at the other. She watched as he pulled his arm away from the hold that the older cadet had on it and crossed both his arms across his chest.

"That is it Sulu! I will not be kidnapped and then forced to endure this treatment any longer." The words came out heavy with Russian pronunciation.

The cadet, apparently named Sulu, she could see was trying hard not to laugh as Uhura's eyebrows rose. "Sorry man," he said patting the others red shoulder, trying to look sympathetic.

"This is the third time!"

Uhura smiled slightly watching the two of them bicker. She could easily see there was no real animosity behind it all, though she had to admit that the younger one did look genuinely annoyed.

Then again if she was the one who kept getting run into by people she too would probably be pretty annoyed.

"Not to interrupt or anything" she began, realising, as she did, that she had done just that as two sets of eyes swept back to look at her, their argument dying. She cleared her throat. "Either of you wouldn't happen to know where the bags are being put out would you?"

"Ah, a soul in similar crisis as ourselves," the guy named Sulu said grinning.

"My soul is slightly more under crisis however under the current conditions..."

"Thanks for that Pavel."

"The truth is only the truth; I cannot change it if I will."

Black eyebrows rose. "Who did you quote just then?"

The young Russian shrugged. "I cannot recall. I believe it is from a 20th century text however."

Uhura began to shuffle her feet. She really was in a bit of a hurry and it was already taking longer than she had first thought it would to get out of this place. "Uh, guys...?"

The two turned back to face her again.

"Right, sorry, this way!"

Before she knew what was happening she had been grabbed and was being pulled along by the older of the two. Her eyes widened as she twisted and turned in and out of the crowds, coming close to wiping out spectacularly before being pulled away just in time and around the possibly threatening obstacle which was usually a person, though it varied between bags, poles, posts, and seats.

It was within seconds that she found herself in a slight opening where in front of her wound the black conveyer belt brining streams of bags from the baggage shuttles. The two who had gotten hear stood each of sides and grinning widely.

"You two are insane." she said in response and if anything their smiles got wider.

"We try our hardest."

"Oh yes."

Uhura smiled, rolling her eyes. She looked at the bags moving past. There was still quite a considerable amount of people in front of her which meant that her view was limited. Her bag could easily go past and she would never see it.

She turned to the cadets beside her. "I'm going to get closer," she said and then looked at them each in turn trying to convey her gratitude. "Thanks for getting me here, you've been a real help."

The older leaned over, sweeping an exaggerated bow her way. "It has been a pleasure Miss" he said before straightening and grinning again. "Come on Pavel," he said leaning around her to address his friend. "I think I just saw my bag."

The young Russian gave her a final desperate look before he was once again pulled away.

Uhura watched with amusement as the two of them started moving at a crazy speed through the crowds once again and then turned to look once again at the conveyer belt.

She walked forward, the action instantly changing into a much quicker one as a very distinctly coloured bag revealed itself from behind someone's legs, moving steadily along the belt. She pushed through the lines of people who were crowded around either talking or doing exactly what she was at the moment. She reached the strip a metre behind her bag and she lunged out desperately. Her fingers brushed against the strap and hope surged through her as she tried to grab it before it went any further.

She couldn't, and reaching any further would have meant falling flat on her face.

She let her arm fall to her side, standing straight, as she watched in a mixture of annoyance and disappointment as her bag move away from her along the belt. It would be impossible to follow it due to the congestion of the crowds. She would have to wait for it complete another entire circuit. She inwardly groaned and then outwardly yawned. God, she just wanted to leave the terminal. Meeting her friend would be her last port of call because she seriously needed some sleep. It had been a bad idea to go out the night before. Her mouth twisted as she remembered the strange experience of having some guy trying to hit on her then consequently being beat up for it. Not something that happened every day that was for sure. Lord, she felt like swearing.

"Shit..." she said, allowing her impulses to follow through for once, and then feeling just slightly embarrassed as she saw a guy standing next to her turn to look in her direction. Seeing that the guy or more properly, man, in particular was Vulcan she felt the embarrassment grow. She opened her mouth intending to apologise but instantly closed it as he heaved his bag onto his shoulder and quickly turned back around. She scowled slightly. High and mighty bloody Vulcan's...

It was then with a considerable amount of surprise, however, that she watched the same figure then stretch out, forcing his slender body over the belt and reach forward further and further, to finally grab the red bag himself.

Her eyes widened.

-------------

"Shit!"

The feminine voice came from beside Spock's shoulder and he looked around, the force behind the sound surprising him, the word itself in direct contrast with the otherwise soft timbre of the voice. A female cadet stood there looking equally annoyed and upset at the same time, arms held loosely at her side. Realising that her predicament had been just like his moments ago Spock sympathised with her. He slung his own bag over his shoulder and turned once again to the belt. The red piece of luggage had moved along the belt and it was with just a twinge of doubt that he moved forward once again, allowing his much longer arms to stretch to their entire extent. He grimaced as a bag that was being withdrawn from the belt hit his hand scraping his fingers slightly, his heels lifting upwards as he was forced to reach even further as the belt moved along.

It was with a certain amount of triumph that his hand finally closed around the handle of his intended target. Spock heaved, allowing the movement as well as the weight of the bag to force him backwards onto the flat of his feet. He turned around; fully regaining his balance in the process, holding what he could now see was the burgundy bag in his hand. He looked up.

The cadet was staring at him. It was an opened eye gaze one which emitted both surprise and confusion in conjunction. Spock tilted his head, once again contemplating how simple it was, as his mother said to, 'read' a human being. They presented every thought and feeling on their face and in their gestures so blatantly that when he had first arrived at the academy he had been significantly amazed. Becoming slightly uncomfortable by the brown gaze, he held out the bag to the girl who still continued to stare at him. It seemed that she was not in full control of her mental capabilities at the moment, thought Spock, though wondered why. There did not seem to be any reason not to be.

He rose an eyebrow, continuing to look at her. The girl blushed, making her already dark skin, darker and her eyes skirted to the ground, shuffling forward to take the bag from him. Her display was quite amusing, all things considered. What he was unable to understand however, was why she would be embarrassed at his action, a feeling he presumed she was feeling through the momentary rush of blood to her cheeks.

To help someone in need was only logical and with this said, her reaction was somewhat...

...unexpected.

"Thanks Sir," the cadet said almost timidly.

Spock blinked at the title, just as realisation hit him. Ah, so that was why. It made sense. Humans had the irrational tendency of being intimidated by beings of higher status than themselves. It was a rather illogical reaction which Spock had never quite accustomed to. The fumbling answers and wary looks he received from cadets when he taught classes simply baffled him. He was uncertain as to why such things occurred as he wasn't outwardly intimidating. Not intentionally.

With that one puzzlement solved he was now left with only confusing aspect of how she had known that he was a teacher. He was unsure as to whether she was first year cadet or not, a fact which would easily explain why she possessed such knowledge. Curious. Perhaps her heritage included strains of advanced ESP. Some humans had already been tested and shown potential abilities in the area. She could easily be one.

A small gasp pulled him from his reverie.

"You're hand!"

Spock's eyebrows flew upwards at her apparently mindless statement and looked in the direction of the brown pointed finger. Understanding dawned within him. Dark green was blossoming under the skin of the hand that had been previously struck by a bag moments before, while a small amount of light green blood was being discharged from the slight wound. He dismissed it.

"It is superficial" he replied, reaching upwards and settling his bag onto his shoulder more comfortably. His assurance, however, didn't seem to do what it was supposed to.

"I'm so sorry," she continued, still looking at the hand, which he now moved behind his back. The girl, obviously realising she was making him uncomfortable, looked back up; her brown eyes once again staring at him, wide open.

"There is no need to apologise; there will be no lasting damage."

"Yeah, I know but it's your hands."

Spock blinked, tilting his head sideways at the stressed accent on the word 'hands'. Perhaps she knew of Vulcan predisposition. It was unlikely but still possible. Either way, he had now been standing in the crowded terminal for much longer than preferred. He would much more have favoured being in his quarters and meditating at the current moment.

He looked at the girl as blandly as possible, trying to deter her from continuing their present conversation. "Indeed," he said raising an eyebrow, an action which clearly asked whether or not she realised she was pointing out quite apparent things to him and whether she realise she sounded stupid by doing so.

"Yeah." she said lamely, looking down at her bag and once again flushing red. Spock took the opportunity to make his immediate escape.

"I regret that I must go. It was most pleasant to meet you, Cadet," he said abruptly, moving swiftly past her before the girl had time to speak again. He passed the two men who were apparently still arguing, the younger of the two who seemed to now be looking in either disbelief or confusion at the older, and exiting out through the large enforced double doors, all within seconds.

He stopped as he got outside; breathing deeply and allowing the fresh and slightly cold air wash over him. He shook his head.

Humans were indeed strange creatures.

-------------

Oh, God!

Uhura was kicking herself to the next solar system and back. Could she be anymore stupid? He had just helped her and all she could do was stare at him dumbly?

Great going girl, she thought wryly.

Above all, such an encounter really didn't bode well for someone wanting to go into the linguistic department of all things. If she couldn't even hold a conversation with a Vulcan despite whether it was only for five minutes and in a baggage terminal what was going to happen?And he was going to be her teacher, she cursed realising. Uhura knew this because a cousin of hers had just completed a course in the same field and she had to listen to Sarah constantly complain about the emotionless and harsh instructor who taught her. Since she didn't think there would be anymore Vulcan's currently in the vicinity of Starfleet it was a logical to assume that the one who had helped her and the one that had taught her cousin were the one and the same.

And she couldn't even say a convincing thankyou to him, not to mention making a big deal andbabbling mindless over his hands like he didn't know anything despite beinga Vulcan himself.

Bloody hell.

She stared back down at the burgundy bag she had accepted from pretty much her saviour and her resolve strengthened instantly.

No way was that going to happen again, she thought, slinging the bag over her shoulder before turning to find the exit. No way at all.

Watch out Starfleet, I'm here now... she thought spotting an exit and moving towards it through the crowds, smiling slightly.

...and here to stay.

-------------

"Leo, seriously man, you're bag must have been through at least 3 times by now," said what seemed to now be his younger shadow. The blonde haired kid lounged against the cold metal pole that was attached to the terminal floor, looking about as cool as a cucumber despite being obviously out of place in what he was wearing. McCoy could hardly talk though as looked down at his beaten up own clothes. He watched the kid as he in turn watched the Vulcan, who had previously been standing next to them make his way quickly through the building, a single black bag slung over his shoulder. It was also with a slight amount of amusement that following behind him was the boy that had ran into him before, still being dragged along by his friend, each now carrying a bag. He snorted as he saw the kid obviously protest about his current predicament which was only replied by a simple grin from his detainee.

Soon enough though his companion's words seemed to catch up to him and he looked at the young man next to him in confusion eyebrows raised. "My bag?"

The kid continued to watch the dark figure until it disappeared outside, as well as smiling at the insane duo as they also charged pass, before turning to face him. "Yeah, you're stuff. You know. The reason behind why we've been standing here for the past fifteen minutes and all."

If possible his eyebrows rose further.

"I don't own a bag kid, like I said, the wife took the whole damn planet!" he exclaimed throwing his arms up. Despite that fact that they hadn't owned a planet of course. He lowered his arms and groaned. "And here I was thinking we were waiting for yours."

The kid stared at him in disbelief. "What- my bag?"

No, you're shipment of explosives. Yes of course you're bag, kid. McCoy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you did kind of make a bee line for the bag department when we docked. You pretty much ran here, dragging me along with you. I presumed you were trying to get in and out of this place as quick as possible." He could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on already.

The boy burst into laughter. "I was just following Uhura," the kid said."And I'm pretty sure there was no dragging involved. "

McCoy stopped at the unfamiliar name. "Whosywhatsit?"

"Uhura." The kid nodded toward the baggage terminal and McCoy turned around. He saw a girl standing there holding a red bag and looking at it like she intended to set it alight with her eyes. "A girl I met in a bar," the boy explained. "A really gorgeous girl."

" Wow....did your eyes just mist over kid?" McCoy asked sarcastically watching as the girl, who despite his scoffs he had to admit was just as the kid described, slung the bag over her shoulder and moved quickly away from the baggage terminal then out of sight, into the crowds.

"Probably," the boy grinned. "She's pretty hot."

"Oh Jesus..."

"Ah, suck it up Leo! The next four years are going to be awesome, you'll see," Jim grinned at him. "After a few weeks we'll be great friends and it will be like sailing a boat from then on in."

"Why do I feel like my little sailing yacht just got hit by a tornado then?"

"I didn't say anything about it being smooth sailing."

McCoy snorted and before he knew it there was an arm around his shoulders. He looked across to the younger man who was now all but hanging off from him with a grin which reached from one side of the young face to the other.

"Come on Leo, let's get out of here."

McCoy rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. Damn, he had joined Starfleet to get away from problems. It seemed though that a whole new level trouble had just got thrown at him going at 200km per hour. "I give up; just call me Bones, kid. I hate feeling like some sort of bloody cartoon lion all the time."

The kid smiled, punching the Doctors shoulder as they walked from the terminal.

"See, friends already."

Leonard McCoy, now officially dubbed 'Bones' kept walking forward, despite the urge to run screaming in terrified horror in the opposite direction, in spite of some primal instinct to do exactly that.

-------------

As Jim walked from the terminal, his arm slung casually around his new found friend's shoulders his previous smile became even more pronounced, radiating a mix of both happiness and amusement. For the first time in his life and with absolutely no cause to be so, he felt content. He laughed for no apparent reason and Bones looked at him like he was insane.

Which he probably was.

But just in a good way.

He breathed in the cold air deeply, and then released it, his smile widening even impossibly further, his eyes shining. He turned and caught sight of the dark figure that had exited the terminal before them, leaning against the wall looking at him inscrutably, dark gaze indecipherable and head tilted slightly.

He chuckled, watching eyebrows raise upwards in response when he waved at the Vulcan over his shoulder, the stupid grin more than likely still stuck on his face. He looked back around and then completely lost it.

Pike had been right.

This was going to be awesome.

-------------

Spock watched from his semi-concealed position against the wall as the blond civilian who had just grinned and waved at him, turned around and continued to walk away, arm slung carelessly around his companion's shoulders. He watched as the golden head was dropped and then sharply brought up again bringing with it a resounding laugh that was rich, pure and clear. It rose above the sounds of hundreds of moving cadets and seemed to soar.

Spock quirked an eyebrow.

Fascinating.


This was so confusing to write so I don't doubt that most of you are sitting there scratching your heads and thinking 'what just happened?'

I'm sorry, it's just another drop of crazy to add to the whirl pool of insane:)