I don't own Star Trek. Sorry this took so long to get up.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

"Keep watch." Jim ordered, planting Chekov firmly in front of the door.

Chekov nodded firmly. "Da Keptin."

Jim hid himself in the corner. Night time as it may have been, he wasn't going to risk getting spotted. The wall panel around the vent was almost seamless, but he found it. He couldn't get his fingers in though, and glanced at Chekov. Nope. He needed nails if he wanted to get it off that way. Well, now he definitely needed to be careful.

"Things are going to get loud in a second." Jim announced.

Chekov nodded, giving him a dubious look. Jim braced himself on the far wall. He kicked the wall hard. Chekov turned slowly to give him a horrified look at the loud bang. Jim shooed his attention back to the door. A few more swift kicks and Jim grumbled, inching back to the wall. It had slid a little and was banging about when he prodded it. Perfect. The awkward construction meant percussive maintenance did something.

"Someone is coming!" Chekov hissed, diving for the bed.

Jim stood and raced to the other side of the room. By the time the alien arrived, it just saw him punching a wall. The alien eyed him through the door. Jim glared at him for a moment before returning to punching the wall. The alien tapped the door and said something to him. He ignored it. Space-elf the extra said something louder, banging a bit more forcefully on the door. Jim glanced down at his hand and a mischievous grin slip up his face.

He walked slowly to the door, and the alien, different than the one that morning that he had tripped, didn't reach. So he wasn't afraid of Jim. Good. Jim didn't want it to be too easy. He ran a hand over his fist, cracking the knuckles. Still nothing. Jim leaned closer smiling. Nothing. Abruptly, he slammed his palm into the door. Mr. Stiff didn't react...not at first at least. His eyes traveled to the bloody palm pressed to the door, bright red and horrifyingly alien.

He ran.

"Back on the door." Jim ordered, crouching by the slightly looser panel.

Chekov bounced up and over, standing watch without a bit of concern over the bloody hand print. Jim kicked the panel one more time. It rattled, defeated, and Jim scooted over to begin prying. His fingers were a bit bloodier than he had hoped, but wiggling it free was going far better than he would have ever hoped. As the first panel peeled back with an awful screech, Jim winced. It would be far to loud to dismantle the entire room. He used his new opening, however, to wriggle an arm in and removed part of the duct.

Blindly, with his face pressed against the cold wall and his fingers groping around among wires, Jim set to work. This system wasn't operated by sound, however. Jim grunted, shifting himself as much closer as he could to follow the wires around. He'd opened more secure doors before. And, to an extent, Vulcans didn't think that differently than most other aliens. More importantly, they didn't think too differently than Starfleet engineers. Too logical, too efficient to circumvent his type of thinking.

The door popped open with a hiss.

"Ah!" Chekov bounced in place. "Iz fantastic vork!"

"Good enough anyway." Jim agreed. "We travel together for now. I need to get you a bit closer to 'out' before I head off to do my solemn duty of causing trouble."

Jim grabbed the younger boy's hand and began leading him through the darkened halls. It was hardly safe, but what choice did he have? He caught sight of the lab and paused, closing his eyes and centering himself. He remembered, fuzzily, a discussion he had with Spock one night. Spock was explaining the Vulcan Science Academy to him. Pictures of the sweeping halls and high vaulted ceilings that bespoke of old traditions.

And Spock, telling him insane details about the grounds. Jim asked him how long he had spent wandering the facility, familiarizing himself with it. Spock's face fell, showing emotions Jim had come to realize he was slowly allowing himself more comfort with.

The truth was, Spock was never allowed to wander the grounds. He'd been walked straight from a back entrance to the labs, always out of sight and always away from his 'peers' to reduce alarm. All he had ever truly seen of the academy was a single hallway, modern and sleek and so utterly detached of his heritage. He showed Jim the program on his computer, a digital walk through detailing the place. The closest Spock had ever been to the closest thing he had to a history was the pixels on his screen. Jim had felt no small modicum of outrage. He'd asked Spock to tell him, again, and again, and again. Each time Spock described the entry to the lab, Jim would feel a renewed flush of anger.

The final time, he's squeezed Spock's hand, closing his eyes as he listened.

He could picture it clearly, those back halls and the sterile, silent walk. He remembered telling him, vividly, that he'd never have to walk through those back halls like that again. Ever. He'd never take some sad trip, hiding from the world around him.

Jim snapped his eyes open and started down a hall. "There is a back exit this way. Spock told me about it."

Chekov nodded, following obediently. Jim paused when he came to the door Spock told him about. It was almost a straight shot after that, a few turns, but if he stayed in the hall and didn't head down any side paths, he'd be out. Jim knelt down, placing his hands on his shoulders and looking him square in the eyes.

"You did good ensign. I need you to head straight through this hall. Don't even think about coming back for me. That's an order." Jim shook his head when he opened his mouth to protest. "My first duty is to get you back to Captain Pike safely. I have to head to a computer room so I can get the message out. I'm not going to let you die in the desert, but it could get dangerous here and I need you to trust me and get out."

"Yes Keptin." Chekov murmured faintly, big eyes watering.

Jim rapped his knuckles on his chin. "You've got this."

Chekov hugged him, fiercely. For a moment, Jim was stunned. No one ever hugged him. He returned the gesture hesitantly, before gently pushing him back. When he stood, he had to blink sharply to hide some tears of his own. He sent the boy down the hall with out another word. He wasted no time in accessing the shoddy map in his head, running somewhat haphazardly to the central communication office. A message and a distraction was all he could offer him, but he was going to give it.

… .. . .. …

Chekov hissed, glancing around for a door or nook to hide in. Those were definitely footsteps. He'd only been away from Jim for three minutes and he was already so close to being caught. He couldn't fail his interim captain that badly. Crouched low, he peered around the next corner. They hadn't reached that point yet, who ever was walking. He spotted a small closet, though. It was possible he could make it there before they rounded the corner, but it would be close.

Without any hesitation, Chekov sprinted straight for the door. He slapped the button to open it and slid under the slow rising panel before it had time to do much of anything. It halted, confused by the indication of something passing through its sensors, leaving it open just a foot off the ground. Chekov laid down, peering out into the dark hall.

So close now. Whoever was walking, they mush have been trying to keep quiet, because their footsteps were odd. A pair of boots came into view, followed closely by another. Chekov held his breath, watching as they crept through the hall. Maybe two guards that had gone out for a break when they weren't supposed to? They weren't talking, so clearly they didn't want to get caught. The first pair of boots paused, then crept a bit closer towards the supply closet, possibly having seen the open gap and becoming curious as to why.

Chekov's chest burned, but he diligently held his breath. He couldn't get caught here. The second pair of boots tapped impatiently and the first turned as though he were looking at him. With a moment of horror, Chekov pictured him shutting the closet, likely trapping him inside.

The boots started away though, likely deciding that, if he closed it, it might make too much noise and he would be caught.

Chekov let out a shaky sigh before trying to quietly gasp for breath as the footsteps faded. That had not been the most pleasant experience for him. He decided he would wait for his heart to stop racing and for the footsteps to disappear completely before he tried to exit. When he could no longer hear anyone, he poked his head out, peering around a bit before squirming out of the closet and starting down the hallway.

He got about six steps when a hand gripped his shoulder. Another promptly slapped over his mouth when he opened it and he was pulled against a taller man's chest to still his squirming.

"Pavel." McCoy hissed. "Calm down kid. It's just me."

When that finally sank in, Chekov slumped in his arms, turning to give him a look consisting of equal parts curiosity and glare. McCoy released him and turned him about, an apologetic grin on his face. Spock was standing behind him, having only come back from the band part way so he could keep watch.

"Spock iz aliwe!" Chekov whispered excitedly, before furrowing his brow. "Vhat are you doing here?"

"We were looking for you and Kirk. How did you get out here?"

"Ah. Keptin Kirk got us out of our cell." Chekov announced proudly.

McCoy gave Spock a scathing look, but he simply raised an eyebrow in return. "And just where is Kirk now Pavel?"

"He vas going for communication room to make broadcast to Captain Pike so I vould not be lost in desert." Chekov pouted. "He'z intent vas to cause big distraction."

"Oh hell..." McCoy glanced back at Spock. "I can't go after him. Not with Chekov here. He's my priority."

"I understand doctor." Spock looked seconds from bolting. "I will retrieve Jim myself. Secure the child and ensure his safety first. I have the original communicator and will alert you provided I am capable of releasing Jim."

"Godspeed." McCoy nodded.

He was on his feet and racing back tot he exit as fast as his feet would take him, Chekov already scooped up into his arms. He couldn't run fast with him for long, but right now speed, not discretion, was the better part of valor. He could hear Spock's feet thundering off in the opposite direction and knew he had no worry about being the one to expose their presence. Between the litany of curses running through his mind, however, he sent up a silent prayer to any god that might still be keeping their ears peeled for a Georgia boy that Spock would make it.

… .. . .. …

Jim liked to think he knew a lot about aliens. He even would go so far as to say he didn't find them all that alien. During one of his many bouts of reclusivness and possibly depression, he had spent considerable time learning about architecture. Just looking through the pictures, thinking about exotic places, daydreaming about an escape, or at least a vacation. And he had seen some particularly strange things. Awful things, in some cases, and down right bizarre. Things that looked more like a post-modern piece of the late 1990's (he had dabbled in art for a while too) or a surrealist painting by the questionably great Klingon painter Koloth.

All of those, while distinctly alien, had some point that had made them easily understandable. Perhaps it was because they were so alien.

But here, wandering through the halls of the Vulcan Science Academy, weaving about as he made his way to the central communication room, Jim was struck by how very human it all seemed. These parts of the building had been designed to harken back to the historical style of Vulcan architecture, rather than their modern and efficient design. And through any door it would likely be replaced by such. Here, though, in those halls, Jim found it almost suffocating, how genuinely similar it all seemed. That, perhaps more than any different thing with no points of comparison, made it seem so unnervingly alien. Jim knew this place, felt it resonate deeply inside him in a terrifyingly primal way. He wondered if perhaps this was how the first Homo sapiens, just beginning to gain an understanding of the world around them, viewed their not-quite brethren Homo erectus.

Were they as taken aback, as frightened to their core? Did it make them feel the wild irrationality that Jim struggled to quell? And, not understanding why something could be so different and yet so eerily similar, did they lash out? Some small part of Jim screamed at him to destroy what was around him, because it wasn't human.

Jim was a better man than that, a more rational man. But he couldn't shake that deep distrust that welled in him, caused by the wrongness he found around him. With enough time, he told himself, he could have come to accept the incongruent little differences, made even more real, more different, by the similarities. It was with a bitter thought he considered he might have just that time, but not the exposure.

Though far eerier and more imposing than the computer simulation, Jim recognized well enough where he was.

Just a bit longer and he would reach his destination. Provided he didn't trip any alarms, he was mostly safe in this part of the college. There would be little reason for guards throughout this section of the building, given the peaceful nature of the society. Jim had no doubt that the Vulcan he had sent scurrying earlier, however, had sought back up and even now they could be searching the lab for them. He hoped Chekov had gotten out alright.

How far away was dawn? Jim had waited a while into the night, ensuring the last stragglers had finally turned in to reduce the likelihood of capture. Now, though, surely it was getting farther into the night than he was comfortable with. How early did people arrive? Were their morning classes just around dawn, like at the Starfleet Academy? Did professors show up before it really counted as morning to prepare their lectures? Jim wouldn't think so, given what he knew of Spock, but then again...

He picked up his pace just a bit more.

Eerie as the building was, Jim sort of loved it. Even with the strange loathing in the pit of his stomach, there was wonder too, excitement and adventure. As deep seated as his inherent hatred of different was, as rooted as it was in his DNA, so was a need to explore it. He craved the difference, because only mixed with that primal fear would he find something that could quench his primal need to explore. The night was a terrifying thing, but it was also the only time you could see the stars.

Jim stopped in front of the door he was looking for. His throat was dry and scratching, pained. When was the last time he had taken a proper drink? It seemed like a stupid thing to think about, and maybe he was just stalling, but Jim couldn't help but wonder.

"Jim."

Jim froze, glancing around nervously. He could have sworn he had just heard...great. Now he was loosing his mind. Dehydration and fear and exhaustion mean he was loosing his mind and hearing voices. He supposed it was only fitting, though, that he'd hear the voice of the one person he wanted to be there to help him.

"Jim." It was a bit more urgent, a bit more annoyed.

Jim sighed. "Yeah Spock?" He was talking to his imagination. That's perfect.

"Jim do not stand in the open."

"Well," Jim protested. "I'm going through the door in a second, so it really isn't a problem."

Jim jolted when a hand landed on his shoulder and he peered up at Spock. Spock, who was giving him an incredulous eyebrow raise and was not dead on his floor. Jim briefly considered the possibility that he was now hallucinating too, but Spock's hand was incredibly real and he was definitely there.

"Hi Spock." Jim squeaked, reminding himself that screaming in elation was not a good plan at the moment.

"Jim." Spock repeated. "We should go."

"The kid...Chekov-"

"Is with Doctor McCoy."

"Who?"

"A member of Starfleet." Spock amended quickly, recalling that the doctor had beamed down after Jim was taken. "He is safe and likely back aboard his ship. We must leave this place. We may discuss what we will do after."

Jim shook his head. "No. It isn't going to work. The prime directive is shattered at this point. It'll do more harm, leaving it like this, than not. Besides, I promised your mother I would do something about it."

"You spoke to my mother?" A look of horror dawned in Spock's eyes. "She melded with you?"

Jim shook his head, wincing. "Um...no. It's a long story. One she will tell you eventually, but right now I need in there because I have a plan and I really, really, really want this to go right. I'm sort of hoping you'll help actually because I can't speak your language well enough to do what I need to."

Spock hesitated. Whatever Jim had planned was undoubtedly dangerous. Though his people were largely peaceful, they had stabbed him in the chest to retrieve an alien. As much as they were curious explorers, they were afraid. Whatever Jim did, he could tip them over into full blown panicked frenzy. Or he could create a peaceful resolution that ended in their worlds coming together.

"I will do what I can."

"See? This whole trusting me thing?" Jim grinned. "This is why you're my first officer."

… .. . .. …

McCoy froze, looking over the people gathered in the transporter room with some surprise. Pike gave him a long, grateful look before nodding to him. He scrambled to pick Chekov up and get him out of the way.

"What's going on?"

Sulu, who he hadn't realized was hanging around the door, beamed. "Only the coolest thing since ever."

… .. . .. …

In a competition of which worked better, Jim would have given it hands down to his phaser set on stun, but in a pinch, Spock's Vulcan nerve thingy worked wonders. Now, that was mostly because getting a shot off with his phaser proved to be almost impossible if he didn't want to risk damaging the computers, which he didn't. So Jim guarded the door as Spock took down both unsuspecting night employees.

Jim shoved an incapacitated man out of the chair, not really all that concerned with the man's discomfort because really... "So you guys have some kind of emergency network, right? Some sort of broadcast system that can reach all the radios and such I need?"

Spock gave him a very flat look as he considered what Jim was about to do. "Yes."

"Help me hack into it. I need this to be so powerful no one can stop me."

"I would not advise this course of action Jim."

"Course you wouldn't." Jim glanced the work surface over. "Do you have a room in this school, wired for broadcasts already? Like, maybe not to put on the emergency network, but I want the option to televise this. After all, it's sort of a historical moment."

Spock considered that briefly before nodding. "It is a relatively short distance form here. After you make your announcement, we may head there safely, if we move fast enough. I am unsure how my people will respond to this course of action though Jim."

Jim hummed. "We'll bring our own TV, just to see what they're doing. Now, I need you to say exactly what I tell you to. If you look or sound surprised for even a second, if you hesitate at all, then the whole thing could go wrong."

"I understand, Jim." Spock looked up from where he was doing what Jim had asked of him. "I will not question anything you require of me. Be aware that I will translate your words as diplomatically as I can, however."

Jim shrugged sheepishly. "Okay. There's one thing you have to say right for me...exactly as I say it."

"Yes?"

"No. You'll know it when you hear it." Jim grinned. "I kind of want it to be a surprise for you too."

Spock gave him a dubious look, indicating exactly what he thought of that, before reluctantly nodding "Very well Jim. We are connected. I need only push this button to engage the protocol and issue any message you require of me."

"Alright." Jim took a deep breath and smiled weakly. "Tell them that The United Federation of Planets is issuing an invitation to the political leaders of Vulcan to engage in first contact this morning. They will have three hours to organize themselves and get here, at which point we will begin broadcasting the proceedings to anyone who wishes to see them."

Spock considered his words closely for a moment before nodding. Jim pulled on a pair of headphones so he could hear the announcement as it was being interpreted by it's listeners, on ear free to listen to Spock directly. Spock pushed the button and waited as the signal made an announcement that an emergency broadcast was about to commence. The light on the board turned green, and Spock leaned forward ever so slightly.

Jim watched him, blue eyes serious as the foreign words spilled out of Spock's mouth. If he hadn't been at least partially familiar with the language, he would have thought he was speaking fast, perhaps nervous, but Spock said his lines perfectly. Spock hesitated and then, after a glance at Jim, set his mouth in a firm line.

"We will be waiting." He cut the line.

Jim knew why he did it, even though they couldn't have understood him. There was no way anyone could believe it was faked, given that sort of evidence. No one would be content if the Vulcan high council refused. There was no way they could pretend it was anything less than true first contact, no way they could sweep it under the rug after killing Jim and Spock. And that sort of safety made sure that they had something going in their favor.

Spock didn't hesitate any longer than it took to shut off the system, dragging Jim up by the arm and racing out of the room. Jim didn't complain knowing that, even if they couldn't sweep it under the rug, that didn't mean they wouldn't change the terms and conditions if they could.

Jim felt a little giddy. And who wouldn't? Just a few months ago he had run away from home. Now...now he was leading a first contact in an effort to save not just one planet, but possibly the entire federation. And if that sounded a bit dramatic, then maybe no one was capable of seeing the potential he did.

The room Spock brought him to looked like it had often been used to handle press conferences and announcements of a scientific type. That suited Jim just fine and, with Spock's help and a bit more artistic talent than he was used to drawing on, he had managed to make a relatively decent backdrop to meet people in front of. Jim was just glad he knew what the symbol of the federation was. That, presented at a slight transparency, placed over an image of the Vulcan forge, something Spock assured Jim would go across well, was now standing some twenty feet high on the back wall that doubled as a computer screen.

Jim sat down heavily on the stage, the lack of sleep and the lull of excitement finally catching up to him and making him weary. Spock moved to sit next to him, having ensured the doors were all locked so no one could enter before they were ready.

So far the news had been suspiciously silent about their announcement.

Jim leaned on his shoulder. "I'm really happy you aren't dead."

"And I you."

"I'll have you know that I never intended on doing this."

"Of course not Jim."

"And I was going to bring you with me, if that was what you wanted."

"I know Jim."

"Anywhere in the stars that you wanted. I owed you that at least."

"Jim. Rest."

Jim nodded. Within minutes he had fallen into a restless sleep. Spock suspected the only reason he did not join him in a light sleep was a combination of the 'rest' he had received earlier in preparation for a long night, and his own misgivings about their situation. He allowed himself to meditate, however.

Though he had agreed with Jim, and had known already of Jim's plans, it was something else entirely to hear him say them out loud. Jim had wanted to keep him at his side. Anywhere in the stars that you wanted. He had really meant that. It seemed, beyond just commanding utter devotion, Jim was willing to supply it in spades. Spock pitied anyone who had spurned the blue eyed man, because they would never understand, nor know the utter loyalty that Jim could hold for someone. More than anything, that was a sad fact.

Spock was sure, when he woke Jim with just a half-hour until their deadline, that it had not been enough rest for him. Jim made no complaint though, stretching and immediately setting up the final details. They were both grateful and apprehensive that no attempt was made to contact them early. Spock unlocked the door and turned the cameras on, so that it was recording, though not yet broadcasting, with just five minutes left.

At exactly three hours from their warning, the doors swung open. Jim and Spock stood upon the stage and Spock began the broadcast. Tall, older Vulcans walked into the room, slowly and without hesitation. Though all of their eyes came to fall squarely on Jim, no one spoke. Though Jim had no idea who they all were, Spock's stiff-backed assessment of them ensured him he was not dealing with some lowly scientists dressed up in formal robes. One woman, her hair mostly dark save for two pure white braids pulled back around her head stared up at Spock with clear disapproval in her eyes.

"You know her?" Jim whispered so softly that Spock could barely hear him.

"She is my grandmother." Spock returned just as softly.

Jim took a slightly deeper breath at that, feeling remotely guilty for dragging Spock into something this dramatic, but he knew that he was only doing what he had to. Spock, for all that the worst looks seemed to travel his way, looked no less sure of what they were doing then he had a few hours before. Not to say that he had been particularly assured of their decision, just entirely too accommodating.

Finally, when the people who were coming had settled into their places, Spock's grandmother stepped forward. Jim barely caught that her name was T'Pau in her somewhat hasty introduction, before she rattled something off in Vulcan.

"She wishes to know the meaning of this." Spock told him without looking away from her.

"We are here to as representatives of the United Federation, a group of planets throughout the universe working peacefully to explore and understand the universe." To his credit, Spock only hesitated at the start, before using the word we just as Jim had.

"What brings you here now?" Spock translated for his grandmother.

"Spock." Jim announced, and Spock glanced sideways at him, knowing full well that was not true. "We are here to congratulate him, and the entire Vulcan race, on achieving such a monumental step as interstellar travel."

"Jim-" Spock began to protest, before seeing the blazing blue eyes directed at him and translating faithfully.

Now murmurs broke out among the revelers. Jim stepped forward to draw their attention. "Spock, as the creator of such, is allowed an honorary membership in the Federation, if he so chooses it."

Spock stared at him, understanding now that this was what Jim had kept from him, why he would have taken him. He did not know when Jim had found his notes, but it was really no surprise given the nature of their interaction over the last few months. Jim had known. T'Pau asked him what the alien had said, and Spock turned sternly to the crowd, away from the all too proud blue eyes. For perhaps the first time, Jim heard a note of strength and assurance in his voice, defiant against his own people.

There was too much unrest, though. Either they didn't trust him, or they really weren't happy with what they were hearing. Jim was beginning to grow nervous.

"If the civilization here is willing to accept your achievement..." Jim started, but came to a halt when a familiar sensation caused the skin on his neck to prickle.

He turned to view the stage behind him. The blue light, perhaps was a bit too bright to properly be captured on the television, but it didn't really make a difference. Jim knew a rescue when he saw it. His rescuer just happened to stand festooned in all of his military honors, with a group of Starfleet personnel at his back, and a piece of paper sealed with the official Federation insignia.

Even Spock couldn't fully restrain his surprise at the sudden appearance of so many alien figures.

"Captain Pike!" Jim grinned up at the once familiar man. "It's been a while."

"It has." Pike agreed, before turning to Spock. "Congratulations, young man."

Spock thanked him, though he was clearly not sure why he was being congratulated, and greeted him with a Vulcan salute. "Should I introduce you, Captain?"

Pike nodded. "Yes. While Jim has handled this quite well, I will be taking over from here."

Jim willingly stepped aside and watched as Pike took control of the room with practiced ease. His words weren't much different than Jim's own, and a sense of smug satisfaction settled in his chest. He had taken a gamble, stepping forward on the Federation's behalf. Especially given that he wasn't acting just for the Federation, or really for the Federation at all. The meeting was surprisingly short, with Pike agreeing that they could meet again, on perhaps more agreeable terms and with more time to prepare.

Before they did anything else, Pike handed the document to Spock. "You're a citizen of the Federation, if you want it."

Spock glanced at the room full of interested Vulcans, and then at Jim, before returning his gaze to Pike. "I believe you will find I shall be a member of the Federation soon enough, whether I accept this now, or wait for my people."

Pike grinned. "Well, it's always there if you want it. Now...are you willing to come with us for a while?"

Jim scowled. "You mean you're beaming us up?"

"You don't get a choice Kirk." Pike chided. "But he does."

"I will stay with Jim."

"Alright then. Tell them goodbye for us, and we'll be underway."

Spock did just that, leaving a communicator with T'Pau so that she could contact them when her people were ready. Pike moved to the center of the stage, with the last of the crew to beam up and quickly arranged his hand in the manner he had seen Spock just do to say goodbye. The gesture was apparently well received.

A second later, Jim felt the tail-tell sensation of his atoms being ripped apart, mostly tingly in nature.

… .. . .. …

"I suppose I owe you thanks." Spock told Uhura over breakfast two days later.

Jim growled. "She still stole something from you."

"Don't talk with your mouth full." McCoy ordered, running another scan over Jim. "I wish you weren't such a pest, Kirk."

"You love me already, don't lie."

"Though it is true she took one of my notebooks, had she not done so, it is likely that Captain Pike would not have chosen to interfere when his crew intercepted our transmission. Also, it is unlikely that the Federation would have known how close I was to creating a warp drive." Spock regarded him for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "It was fortuitous that the captain interfered when he did, given your proclivity for confrontation."

Jim scowled, but he wasn't actually upset. When he found out from Pike that the Federation was backing him entirely, he had been ecstatic. He was even remotely pleased that he wasn't going to end up in jail for his actions. And, thanks to some fortuitous timing, Jim hadn't completely mangled the official first contact. T'Pau had contacted them, issuing a formal invitation of the Federation officials to talks. Though Spock had spent some time attempting to program Vulcan into the universal translator, it was horribly patchy, so he would probably end up the main attraction there. As it was, he just about had to be the guest of honor.

Some time, when Spock wasn't around so that his mother could still be the one to tell him, Jim explained Spock's situation to Pike. He hadn't been thrilled, but he understood what Jim was saying. He also mentioned that, given his mother was a citizen of the Federation already, Spock was as well. Jim had been more than a little bit of a shit about that, but Pike took it in stride. He promised that, as soon as he could find them, he would bring them aboard and allow Spock to have that conversation with his parents.

At the very least, they were going to be at the 'party'.

Jim nervously awaited that whole confrontation.

… .. . .. …

Jim stared up at the sea-soaked blue skies of San Francisco. It had been three years, since that crazy adventure, and he was itching for another one. He could see a few Vulcans wandering around the campus, not students, exactly, but visitors all the same attempting to acclimate themselves to their new existence.

Sometimes he felt a bit like some outsider, thrust into an entirely new world and wandering around, looking at the alien sight before him. That was more due to his one time belief that he would never make it to Starfleet, but it was also in part because, as a certain doctor insisted, he was a drama king.

"Eyes forward, Jim." McCoy warned. "If you trip again I'm not mending your face."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, Bones?" Jim grinned at the sour look he received. "Why did you decide to come to Starfleet full time?"

McCoy flushed vibrantly. "I'm just finishing my education. And...well, I probably won't stay for long. My fiancee doesn't like the idea of me being away from her for that long."

"Oh yeah? When is she due anyway?"

McCoy glowered at him. "Oh shut up."

"I don not believe his question was meant to offend, Doctor."

Jim spun around, immediately engulfing the tall Vulcan standing behind him in a hug. Spock was dressed in all black, for the first time, and Jim was ecstatic to find that he had passed his instructor's exam. McCoy congratulated him, then proceeded to grill him about how he intended to work full time in the science labs when he was going to be teaching. It hadn't taken long for them to develop a somewhat spiky relationship, though Jim infiltrated it just as easily.

"I will instruct full time, with the occasional exploration mission taking no more than six months. I will have ample time to prepare for these missions and will not be teaching a class while doing so."

Jim grinned. "I'm going straight up into space when I graduate. I figured I can work my way up through engineering faster than I could if I actually tried to teach."

"Probably." Spock and McCoy agreed with him.

"Just remember." Jim warned. "I'm going to be a captain soon enough and then you're both going to end up on my ship. And oh! Hey, did you hear that Uhura girl and Sulu want to join Starfleet? Isn't that awesome? They're almost old enough to enroll."

"Yes Jim, we know." McCoy sighed. "You've been telling us every two weeks. Once a week for Chekov, who will be starting high school soon."

Jim shrugged. "I've got time. As long as I'm exploring the stars, I can wait."

"I highly doubt that." McCoy grumbled. "The day that boy graduates you're going to take over a ship and declare yourself captain."

They shared a laugh and Jim dragged them off to celebrate. Spock could easily picture that kind of reckless behavior from Jim, and knew that, if Jim ever had a reason to do such, he would probably end up saving the universe while he did. As they returned to Starfleet academy, Spock couldn't help but agree with Jim. He did enjoy the sunsets over the ocean. Almost as much as he enjoyed exploring the stars.

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

So that's it. The end. I hope you liked it. I also hope it didn't seem too rushed. I think that writing the last parts was probably harder than any other scene in the entire fic. As you can see, they're all on their way now, and while I couldn't positively tell you if this universe has any interactions with Nero, I can assure you that Jim will eventually take over the Captaincy,far sooner than he probably should, for some reason or another and bring his crew together.

I chose not to include the delegation, because actual delegations are really boring. I also didn't include the confrontation with his parents, because somehow I just couldn't see it being anything spectacular. Spock might have been a bit upset, but somehow I only see him adding up the figures and accepting it gracefully. Eh. Oh well.