Professor Pike took his teaching seriously, and even for the first day of a first-level course, he made the class count. Spock was pleasantly surprised to find himself needing to take notes already as Pike broke down the current employment percentages for various degrees and GPAs. The correlations were fascinating, and he took down as much as he could - maybe Pike wouldn't mind e-mailing him a copy of the entire chart... He'd ask after class, since he planned to introduce himself anyway. If he planned to tough it out in the sciences, he'd need employment and income - and fast. No time like the present to start networking and looking at possible internships, and first impressions were-

SNAP!

He flinched, accidentally deleting his last paragraph as he clapped his hand to the stinging mark on the back of his head and swiveled to look around. Gazes rippled to and away from him, a few smiles not-so-subtly hidden behind tapping pencils or coughs, and his suspicions were confirmed. Close at hand, a spectacled guy about his age was perusing the syllabus schedule with a huge smirk on his face... Yep. Note to self: don't sit in front of the middle-schooler next time.

"Did he just-" Nyota whispered beside him, indignation already growing on her face.

"Yeah - it's fine," he replied, fishing the rubber band from the floor and rolling it onto his wrist (aggravated or not, he wouldn't say no to free class supplies). She frowned, but the professor turned from the board just then, a wry smile on his face.

"And now it's the moment you've all been waiting for - meeting your new crewmates, so to speak." A few groans drifted from the back row. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that. Tough luck. You're gonna be working with a random batch of human beings in the workplace, no matter where you end up, and this project will give you one shot at figuring that out in a semi-controlled arena. Your grade, to an extent, depends on how well you work with these people, and vice-versa, so keep that in mind."

Compared to other group projects he'd done, the groups Pike split them into were surprisingly large. Thankfully, Nyota had wound up in the same group as he did, but a brief glance at his new teammates told him he'd be doing a lot more tai-chi and meditation this semester than the last... Of course, the grinning rubber-band-sniper was in as well, as were a bitter-eyed med student in blue scrubs, a scowling goth from the back row, the chipper young exchange student ("Wery pleased to meet you!" he had said, eagerly shaking hands with the entire group), and a distracted-looking fellow who fit the obsessively-sketching, "three cans of Red Bull before lunch" engineering stereotype to a T.

He left class as soon as they were dismissed, head full of the day's tasks. He'd look up those statistics on his own later, and he'd wait until he saw which students actually turned up for the next class before getting their e-mails. The to-do list on his phone was deceptively short: 1) move out of flat. 2) move into dorm. 3) get a job/work study ASAP. The flat he shared with four other science majors wasn't extravagant, but it was far too expensive for his new budget. He'd have to work out this month's rent, pack up... Spock stopped by the campus cafe to gather his thoughts, and ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the bowl-cut shape. Studious-looking, his mother said, but she was basing her student style tips off her kindergarten class, and he'd only let her cut his hair over Christmas because, well, it was Christmas and she was his mother.

Bold letters in the window beside him caught his eye: Now Hiring - interviews all day! That decided him. First, a haircut. Then, time to boldly go where his absurdly-grand lineage had never gone before... to interview for a barista position.

Jim strolled through the rest of the day with ease, cruising through his courses with lazy disinterest. He downright refused to show up for Theater 101, despite it being a required course. An entire forty-five minutes dedicated to learning about dramatic, over-exaggerated acting? No thanks. He'd spark note the plays later.

After a night of playing alien-shooter video games ("It's fine, Leonard! It's not like I'm killing them. The phaser is only on 'stun'!") and a morning TV marathon of MacGyver ("Hey, roomie. I only have one class today and- **quick glance at watch**-yep, I missed it. Don't worry, I'll clean up the snacks later. But this episode was SO GOOD!") Jim pried himself away from the dumpy remnants of his dorm room and into the sparkling sunlight of the outside world. Since he'd lost his meal card two days ago and was too unmotivated to take ten minutes out of his non-busy schedule to swing by the main office and get a new one, he decided to stop by the college-run café for a quick bite. The blonde fished out his battered wallet. Five bucks. He frowned. Maybe if he muttered sweet-nothings to the pretty lady behind the counter, she'd throw a free bagel his way. Or he could pull out the puppy eyes that McCoy had long since succumbed to. Jim pocketed his wallet with purpose. Yep, definitely the puppy eyes.

He shouldered his way past a group of chattering students and entered the coffee shop with an inward sigh. Fun fact number one about Jim: he hated crowds. It made him feel trapped, immobile and…well…insignificant. He liked to lead and be seen. Unfortunately, a handsome mug and a dash of fluffy hair only got him so far in life. Besides, there was this whole complicated social thing called "making friends" that he still hadn't figured out yet. Leonard was his closest, most cherished friend. His only friend.

For a moment, the aviation student stood aimlessly in the café doorway while he mulled that sad thought over. Did he really only have one friend? He'd never really considered it before. He was young. Attractive, surely. He had a great smile. A winning personality. And an ego the flipping size of Texas. So what was wrong with him?

He didn't have long to ponder the mysteries of the friendship universe as he found himself in front of the counter, preparing to woo the gorgeous lady barista with a hint of flattery. What he saw, instead, was a cross-looking fellow with a non-bull cut. No way would he woo that. Jim readjusted his glasses and cocked his head to one side.

"Hey! It's the rubber band guy!" He gave the sallow man a good-natured punch to his shoulder. "I didn't know you worked here! Got anything for five bucks? Sneak in a free cookie and I'll put rave reviews on the customer service survey for ya. Whaddaya say, buddy?" If possible, the man's frown deepened. Jim ran a hand through his hair. Man, was he really THIS bad at making friends? Maybe one of his college classes should be "Making Friends As An Adult" because whatever he did to become popular in grade school wasn't working now!

Leonard was on his third class of the day and was already tired. Thankfully most of his courses were on the medical or sciences side of campus, but that one gen-ed with Professor Pike was all the way on the other side and it was a bit of a hike to go there and back every other day. Still, it was better than trying and failing to find parking around the crowded college buildings and amid the speedsters and just plain blind freshmen drivers.

He settled himself on a stool in the lab, backpack on the floor by his chair and notebook and pen in hand. Human Bio II was a rough class alone, but the lab added a whole new load of work that he was determined to get through with his GPA intact. In his last class, the lecture half of Bio II, there'd been the usual med students he'd seen around in his freshman year. He didn't know any by name except for Geoffrey M'Benga, a brilliant student specializing in abnormal physiology. They'd been lab partners in the previous bio course he'd taken here.

As he flipped his notebook open and more students began to file in, he busied himself scribbling the course title and the date in the top margin as he scanned the people passing his table. There had been a pretty nursing student in the lecture hall a few rows in front of him. Blonde, with her hair tied back in a messy bun, deft fingers brushing it out of her face as she took notes. She'd responded to the name Chapel when the professor took attendance but he didn't know her first name. He had hoped to get to know her better, maybe ask if she wanted to get coffee or something, but at the time, he hadn't come up with a plan to successfully avoid Jim.

It wasn't that he didn't like Jim, but the kid could poke his nose in the worst of places at the worst of times and Leonard didn't want EVERY aspect of his life known. He shook his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he remembered how very lost Jim had been on his first day at college. Heck, the kid probably would've wound up sleeping in the hall if Leonard hadn't taken pity on him and glared the desk jockey out front into giving him the RIGHT room number. When that room had turned out to be both on the top floor and the residence of a particularly nasty frat boy named Finnegan, Len had gone downstairs, shoved the smirking desk jockey aside and put the changes through himself. He and Jim were roommates from then on and despite the trouble he caused, Leonard couldn't help but feel a protective, brotherly sort of friendship grow between them. Goodness knows the kid needed SOMEONE looking out for him.

More and more students were entering and pairing off with friends as lab partners but the blonde haired Chapel hadn't come in yet, and neither had Geoff. The professor had arrived, going through the usual introductions and starting on attendance as the students got settled. As he did, the door opened once more and Leonard glanced back, hoping to see Geoff enter and save him from being the teacher's partner like some freckled nerd in high school. Thankfully, the dark-skinned student was there to save the day and stepped through the door, scanning the room quickly and marking out the two remaining open seats. Leonard beckoned him over with a jerk of his head but frowned as Geoff tossed him a grin, practically skipping over to the seat a row ahead of him. Len gave him an incredulous look, hoping the "You traitor, what's going on?" message was getting through clearly enough in his expression. Geoff just snickered and hooked his thumb at the door. The instructor called "Christine Chapel?" twice before the door opened to admit a harried looking blonde.

"I'm here! I'm here, Professor Picardo!"

"Right..." the balding professor gave her a look that meant clearly "don't be late again" as she hurried to the last remaining seat, the one to Len's right. His eyes darted back to Geoff who gave him a thumbs up and mouthed "You're welcome" before turning to the front again.

Suddenly unsure and deeply uncomfortable, Leonard tried to look casual as the girl pulled out her supplies and started rolling back the sleeves of the long sleeved tee she wore under her pale blue blouse. The professor began describing the first lab assignment they had and Chapel turned to him before Len could come up with a smooth way to introduce himself.

"Christine Chapel," she said, brushing her hair out of her face with one hand and offering him the other. He shook it awkwardly.

"McCo- Leonard McCoy," he corrected himself, feeling a grumpy slouch growing in his shoulders as he stumbled over his words. She didn't seem to notice, flashing him a quick smile and setting up the equipment for the experiment as she spoke.

"Geoff says you're here on an army scholarship program?" Leonard resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead cast a glare at Geoff who innocently avoided his gaze.

"Geoff exaggerates. My father's retired army, he's helping pay my tuition with the understanding that I will come home with the letters "Dr" in front of my name." She laughed and offered him the test tubes.

"After you, Doctor McCoy."

The lab went well, in spite of Leonard's awkwardness and two spilled beakers. His hands had always been steady before but somehow whenever she handed him something it wound up on the floor and earned him a stern glare from the instructor as he stalked by. Shrugging his backpack further onto his shoulders as he began the cross-campus trek to the nearby cafe, Leonard wondered if he should ask someone's advice on how to handle this situation. He knew it was a crush, had already admitted to himself that yes, he had a crush on Christine Chapel, but having been immersed in his studies for the past years, he had simply never had the time for a real relationship. Not since Jocelyn at least, but she was miles away in Georgia and while what they'd had had been sweet, it hadn't really been a proper relationship. At least, he didn't think so, because proper relationships didn't end with him proposing and her turning him down in favor of the local steroid-shooting airhead jock.

Maybe he could ask Jim. Jim always seemed so relaxed around women, as if it came naturally to him to be smooth and confident. Leonard could handle confident, smooth was something else entirely. But to ask Jim would be to admit that he had a crush which would open him up for a hailstorm of teasing and pestering and interfering until he lost his temper and snapped and made Jim give him that patented Jim Kirk "kicked puppy" look. He really wasn't in the mood to go through that whole ordeal.

Shouldering the door to the cafe open, he wandered inside, caught sight of the kid over by the counter. Pestering the barista no doubt. He joined his roomie, nudging him in the shoulder.

"Hey, you left this back at the room." He passed Jim his college ID. "Seeing as that doubles as your meal-card, it really pays to have it around," he groused, a bit of his frustration seeping into his voice. He turned to the barista, noting without much interest that the man working the counter was not Jim's usual giggling sorority type but rather the uptight student with the bowl cut who'd sat in front of him in Pike's class. Bowl cut was gone, though, which was a relief. The guy's hair looked less like straight combed plastic now.

"I'll take a medium coffee, black." He ordered over Jim's shoulder, tossing his meal card on the counter.