(Author's Note): I decided to not have the unjust caning, but keep the beginning of that chapter, with a few alterations.
Due to the reader "Ruby Moon-Snape" showing an interest, I will have completely new material of Jean-Luc going to rejuve school.
• 3 hours after arriving on Deep Space 9:
Jean-Luc whips his head around, trying to absorb everything about him.
Two young Klingon boys are wrestling on a bright blue mat, grunting and snarling mock insults as they struggle to gain the upper hand.
"Dejpu'bogh Hov rur qablIj! (Your face looks like a collapsed star!)" one of the Klingon boys' growls at the top of his voice, as he wraps his longer arms around his opponent's waist.
The other Klingon boy scrambles for a better foothold, and throws his attacker off. "Ghe'torDaq luSpet 'oH DaqlIj'e'! (You belong in a black hole in the underworld!)"
They both howl and jump at each other again with matching grins on their faces.
A prime Vulcan girl wrinkles her nose a bit at the insults. Her companion, a smirking Tellerite boy, snorts and leans over to whisper something to her. Jean-Luc's not sure what's said, but the Vulcan's eyebrow twitches suspiciously up.
To Jean-Luc's left, is a wall many meters high, with strategic handholds. And covered with scaling boys and girls. One Romulan girl loses her grip and suddenly finds herself dangling midair from her safety harness. She laughs and swings over to grab hold of a new place on the wall. The human boy next to it helps her steady herself.
The toddlers' room is sectioned off from the teens by a glass door and wall. Jean-Luc can hear several little toddlers' muffled screams of delight as they're pushed on swings or down slides. Anyone can see in perfectly, but none of the young children are getting out, and there are plenty of adults watching over the littlest ones. More than enough, so that the teenagers can play their own games, instead of monitoring the younger children.
And, the best part?
In the far-right corner, to Jean-Luc's delight, is a hoverboard arena.
A grin spreads across Jean-Luc's face as a warmth grows in his chest.
"Pretty cool, right?" Wesley says, nudging Jean-Luc in the ribs.
"It is impressive," Jean-Luc concedes.
A rustle of cloth gets his attention, and he remembers the Selay babysitter Riker foisted on them. The Selay is several feet away, slanted eyes scanning the room with surprising ease. It's unnerving though, and inconvenient. Not that he blames Riker, or Sakatulk. He understands why Sakatulk is here. It's just…it's not helping their social status with the other teens.
Everyone's giving them quite a wide berth.
Wesley glances over at Sakatulk too, and grimaces. He leans, whispering. "I feel like I've got some kind of disease. We're never going to make friends this way."
Jean-Luc agrees, but understands Riker's decision. "He's going to be one of our chaperones, once we leave Deep Space 9. It only makes sense for him to familiarize himself with guardianship."
"Guinan's already made herself friends." Wesley eyes the juice bar with a bit of jealousy.
Jean-Luc follows his gaze. Guinan is seated on a tall stool, surrounded by a total of five boys and three girls, all hanging on her every word. Even the bartender is listening in. "She always did have a knack for drawing people to her." Picard acknowledges.
The taller boy nods to the hoverboard area. "Want to check out the hovercourt? Maybe someone will lend us a board."
Jean-Luc bites his lower lip. "We haven't a permission slip." he specifically doesn't have one, because he's still on restriction. Although he's not sure why Wesley doesn't have his.
"Oh." Wesley's face falls. "Right. It's been a while since I've been on a station. Forgot about those."
Jean-Luc shrugs. "We can always watch though. Perhaps see some new tricks."
"Sounds good." Wesley turns to Sakatulk. "We're going to check out the hovercourt, sir."
Sakatulk's bright yellow eyes fixate on them. "I ssshall be here if you have need of me."
"Thanks!" Wesley impulsively grabs Jean-Luc's arm and starts to drag him through the crowd. Jean-Luc stiffens at the unexpected action. He's not liked people touching him without permission since… well, his short stint with the Cardassian Order didn't help his Borg nightmares one bit. Wesley stops, and glances back.
"Jean-Luc?" Wesley lets go. "Everything ok?"
"Yes. Of course." Jean-Luc hurries to reassure him. "Lead on, Mr. Crusher."
Wesley narrows his eyes, in a way that suggests he doesn't quite believe Jean-Luc, but he shrugs and begins to walk towards the hovercourt anyway. Jean-Luc follows close behind. He is grateful for Wesley's tact. Jean-Luc's not at his best right now, so more things than he'd like slip out. It helps, having considerate people like Wesley around him. They cover for his mistakes, or ignore them.
"Wesley Crusher and Jean-Luc Picard, sir," Wesley says to the supervising Vulcan adult.
The male scans them both. "Do you have permission slips?"
"No, sir." Wesley shakes his head.
"We only wish to observe," Jean-Luc puts in.
"Very well. Please, do so at a safe distance."
"Yessir," both of them reply at the same time.
The Vulcans eyebrow goes up, but he doesn't say anything. Jean-Luc's glad he doesn't. He quickly shoves that thought away, as he follows Wesley through the crowd of taller teenagers, until they're closer to the court.
"Hi there," an Andorian girl at their side says. She pulls a few strands of her white hair behind her ear. For some reason, there is a glowing black "M" tattooed on the back of her hand. "You're new," She acknowledges.
Wesley grins. "And here I thought we were blending in so well."
She snorts, leaning against her hoverboard. "Sorry, to burst your shielding, but no."
Wesley laughs.
Jean-Luc envies their natural comradery.
"I'm Ivrillith Zh'iqellon," she tells them, and pulls herself up with pride.
Jean-Luc assumes, by her tone and posturing, that someone in her family is a high-ranking member of the Andorian Guard. He wracks his brain quickly, but can't come up with anyone. Wesley, it seems, hasn't noticed anything.
"Cool! I'm Wesley Crusher. And this," Wesley gestures to Jean-Luc, "is Jean-Luc Picard."
Her dark eyes jerk towards Jean-Luc. "There's a starship Captain with that name."
"Distant relative," Jean-Luc says before Wesley can tell her the truth. He doesn't like the way she's looking at him, like an advantage waiting to be taken, or someone to manipulate. Besides, Starfleet hasn't given him orders on how to act, so, until further notice, Jean-Luc is going off the assumption that no one outside the Enterprise is to know yet.
Wesley gives him a look, but doesn't correct him.
Ivrillith stares at them for a second longer, before she smiles. "Okay."
Jean-Luc doesn't believe her one inch, and the feeling is probably mutual. He stops a sigh. Sometimes, he wishes he weren't quite so famous.
"So," Wesley drawls, stepping between them so he's closer to Ivrillith. "Who's got the best tricks here?"
"That'd be Kul." Ivrillith shrugs. "But it's a Breen, so it's pretty much expected."
Jean-Luc finds himself nodding as he scans the boarders for the Breen. It's not hard to find. It's the only one wearing a face mask and body suit. Jean-Luc can't even tell the gender, which is, of course, the point. The Breen are one of the most secretive races in the galaxy. None know what they look like, without their armor, and none dare try to catch a glimpse.
Strangely, Breen prefered to be refered to as "It", instead of their gender... rumor was they had no gender, and spawned out of oozing plants, on their world. Not unheard of, so it was surely possible to be hatched from a fruit of some kind.
"He is good," Jean-Luc has to admit when the Breen does a triple twirl and black hole maneuver.
Ivrillith glances down at him, and then over at Wesley. "You any good, Wesley?"
Wesley eyes them both. "A little. I'm out of practice though."
"Oh?"
"Been living on a starship for the last few years."
"They don't gotta hovercourt?"
"Not yet. That's part of why we're here," Wesley says. "They're upgrading the recreation center."
And the weapons. Something Jean-Luc is not happy about. He'd tried hard to get Riker to recant his request to Command, when he found out the price. Obviously, that hadn't worked, so Jean-Luc's resigned himself. He's glad Will's thought to make the new Teen Center fortified.
"I'm going to be an engineer," Ivrillith says, and Jean-Luc realizes he's zoned out half her conversation with Wesley. He shakes his head. He can't afford to be so distracted.
"I think I'd like to be one too," Wesley confides.
Jean-Luc thought he wanted a command position, but he's finding out that he knows very little of his new companion. The warmth in his chest starts to rapidly cool.
"I just wanna try something different, this go." The 'girl' rubs the "M" on her hand. Looking forlorn.
"We gotta get those tattoos soon, to, Starfleets still trying to figure out how to label us."
The Andorian smiles widely, " I knew I recognized you two!!!" She cheers. Then smiles gratefully to Wesley. "I really must thank you. I'd be dead by now, if it wasn't for your rejuve pod. I was literally on my death bed, when they started Sapient testing. My family signed me up, as I was too far gone to be aware of anything."
"You're a Rejuve," Jean-Luc realized.
She smiled, cockily. "So are you." She stated, with confidence.
Jean Luc, for unknown reasons... relaxed, and started talking more openly with this girl. As they watched the hoverboarders.