"Why did I agree to do this?" Bones asked.

"Oh, stop your whining. Survival skills should be mandatory. Never know when you're gonna need 'em," Jim said. The doctor and Gavin both gave her a look, hearing the meaning under her words. 'Survival skills saved my life, so shut up and deal.' At least, that's what she was thinking. Anything to get over the cold.

The group of six cadets was participating in the Arctic Survival course in Greenland, which is covered in ice. Iceland, on the other hand, is pretty green. Jim made a mental note to figure that one out later.

"I swear to all that's holy, Jim, if I get frostbite…" Bones started.

"Shut up," one of the other cadets, Sheen, said. Jim couldn't help but laugh at Bones glaring and grumbling to himself after that.

"Is he always like that?" came a heavily accented voice.

Jim looked at the guy that has brass falling over themselves about. They even call him the Russian wiz-kid. Pavel Chekov is a newly-sixteen year old genius that joined up while they were on their training cruise and was flying though the Academy at break-neck speed. He was the kind of genius that Jim could put in a room with Scotty and watch as they redefined the laws of physics. She'll admit, she's a bit jealous.

"It ebbs and flows, kid. Sometimes he's the insanely brilliant doctor who could fix anything with nothing and some days, he lets his fears and phobias get the better of him. Usually it's not at the same time. Why are you taking this class? Aren't you Russian? I figured you'd be used to the cold," she said.

"Da. I am used to the cold. It's the heat that I have a problem with. This class teaches survival in both. You have some survival skills too, da?" he asked.

"Some. Crash course from my mom when I was a teenager." It was mostly the truth.

"Good. Together, we may be able to get your friend home without frostbite, da," the kid said.

Jim nodded, "That sounds like a plan, Chekov."


They found a cave to sleep in and pooled their gear. They all grabbed water purification stuff, field rations and socks. The rest of the gear was different depending on who packed the bag. There were five sleeping bags, three field knifes, two mini shovels, six flashlights, ten glow sticks, two phasers, two medpacks, three grapples, three hundred feet of rope, three pairs of sunglasses, four extra sets of hats and gloves and a handful of protein bars. The water they started with lasted until they found a new source. Jim expected much worse.

"Are you sure?" Bones asked her for the millionth time.

"God, you're such a southern flower. It's water, Bones. It was snow, I boiled it, filtered it and cooled it myself. I'm telling you to drink it. Don't make me order you," she said as they stood in the cave. Jim heard a snicker, "This isn't funny, Gavin."

"It's a little funny. You reminded me of your mom just now," he told her as he tried not to laugh.

"I do not," Jim said, turning her attention from one friend to the other. "Take that back."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Cupcake offered.

"You're scared of her," she pointed out.

"Not as much as I was," he told her.

"Of course not, she made you cupcakes," Jim said.

"They were damn good too," Hendorff quipped.

"I told you," she chuckled. "Men and food. A partnership as old as time." Jim turned her attention to her best friend, "Look, Bones, if you're not gonna drink it, don't drink it. You're the medical professional. You know what happens when you get dehydrated. Have fun with that. Just don't expect me to carry you."

"I hate you," the doctor said before he took a drink. "It's water."

"No shit, Sherlock," Willoughby muttered. Bones moved to glare at the girl but Jim wouldn't let him.

"She has a point, Bonesy. You've been grumbling all day. You know the kid over there is from Russia, Cupcake's from Chicago and I'm from Iowa. You keep dissing everything I loved about going home for the winter," Jim said.

"Snowball fights," Gavin said with a small smile.

"Da. Snow angels," Chekov added.

"Catching snow on your tongue," Sheen added. They all looked at him. He shrugged, "I'm from Vancouver."

"My brother makes a kick-ass snowman. All you see is the bad but there's good stuff about the cold. And, if you know what you're looking for, you can survive in it. All you gotta do it try, doc. It's only two and a half days. And look at it this way, you have the advantage in the desert course," she said.

"I swear you have some mystical power that turns everyone around you into willing minions," Bones quipped.

She shrugged, "Well, I can't confirm or deny that, Doctor McCoy. Come on. We gotta figure out a watch schedule before we hit the hay."


"You don't talk about your bother a lot," Hendorff said. Jim gave him a look. "You mentioned him earlier. You don't talk about him much."

"Not much to tell. He hated me for a long time because I 'got George killed', then he didn't. Then Tarsus happened and it's been hard for us to connect ever since. We're rarely in the same place anymore anyway. I mean, I guess I could probably try harder… so could he," she said.

"You can't control what he does. What if something else happens to one of you? Trust me, burying my brother sucked," he told her with a sigh. "There's so much we should've said that we didn't and I have to live with that. If you don't believe anything else I ever tell you, believe me when I say your pride's not worth it."

Gavin's older brother was fleet, an intelligence officer who was killed during a rescue mission two years ago. They were close growing up but, like any relationship that you don't work on, they grew apart. Gregory died before they could put it back together.

"Wow… an intellectual. Who knew?" she said, giving him a nudge with her boot. "I don't even know where to start with him." Jim said as she leaned against the wall of the cave across from Gavin.

"Start with an apology," he told her.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she muttered.

"Maybe you didn't… at least from your point of view. Maybe it's something you didn't even realize. Or maybe he just needs to hear someone say those words to him who won't judge him. Doesn't matter. Just… say something," Cupcake said to her.

"Just like that?" the command cadet asked.

"Aren't you the one always preaching that whole 'never know if you don't try' stuff? Take your own advice, Jimmy," he said.

"I'll try," she shrugged.

"'Try not. Do or do not, there is no try'."

"Star Wars, really?" Jim asked.

"I knew you'd get that one. It's still good advice, even if the person giving it was a tiny green Jedi," he said with a chuckle.

"Yea, well, Empire Strikes Back is the best of the bunch," she said.

"No way. Return of the Jedi is the best," Cupcake laughed. "You know, we're never gonna agree on this."

"Probably. Phantom Menace was horrible," Jim offered.

"Oh, God. Horrible is being nice. Where the hell do we start with that one? What isn't wrong with that movie?" he groaned.

"Even remaking it didn't help. You wanna know about a bad movie? Watch Kelvin's Descent," she told him.

"That unauthorized piece of crap about your dad? No thanks. If I really, really want to know about him, I'll ask your mom."

Jim smiled, "You know what's crazy? She'd probably tell you."