Graduate Vulcan for Fun and Profit by lazulisong (PG-13)

[aprilleigh24.livejournal.com]

Hello, I'm aprilleigh24  and I'm back for my second month of driving the Reboot van.

Fandom: STAR TREK:REBOOT 
Characters/Pairings:  Jim, Bones, Spock, Uhura
Length: 15600
Author on LJ: lazulisong  
Author Website: Also at AO3

Why this must be read:

It really does take a village to raise a Jim. From the authors note: "I started it partly because I was tired of the fics where Jim's crappy childhood is his defining focus, so I thought I'd write a story where even though it makes him what he is, it's not WHO he is. I really think that's important: things that happen to someone are not all that define them. Shit happens, you know? But you're not the shit that happens to you. So you've got to live, you've got to go on, and even if you have to accept help from other people that's okay. Hell is other people, yes, but sometimes the only way out of hell is someone reaching out over the edge to you." This is a story about grief and healing. It is also about friendship and family and it truly is one of the most amazing stories I've read. (oh, and Jim speaking Vulcan is surprisingly hot.)

"Mr Kirk," says the poor bastard assigned to teach Basic Principles of Vulcan. Jim wonders what he did. Teaching human cadets to say "My name is Bob" in Vulcan has to be the worst thing that one Vulcan could think of to do to another. "A word with you in my office."

Jim grimaces but stands up. "Yes, Commander Sakel," he says.

In his office, Sakel moves unhurriedly to the synthesizer and makes two cups of Vulcan tea, the type that tastes like limestone-infused grass and cinnamon. Jim sits uncomfortably on the chair in front of the desk and allows Sakel to put the tea in front of him. Sakel sits down behind the desk and takes a long sip of the tea. Jim reluctantly takes a sip of his as well, and discovers that Sakel has kindly added sugar to his cup. It's still beyond foul, but at least it's sweet and foul, and so just that more bearable. Sakel sets down his cup, steeples his hands together and pins Jim with a look like a laser. "It is logical to leave off your pin if you fear being recognized as a member of the Kelvin's crew," he says. "Failing to ascertain the teacher of Basic Principles of Vulcan strikes me as less illogical than foolish. I will allow that to be due to the lateness of your entry to the Academy and the dearth of teachers of Vulcan." He's speaking in formal Vulcan, like he always does to Jim. "Please elucidate your logic in registering for a class intended for speakers of Terran Standard with no experience in xenolinguistics or Vulcan grammar."

Jim slumps down in his chair a little and flips open his collar to display the tiny pin, dull mourning black, that matches Sakel's and marks them as members of one of the smallest groups in Starfleet -- crew and passengers from the last voyage of the Kelvin. "There was nothing else," tries Jim. Sakel gives him a really scary eyebrow. Jim says, in formal Vulcan, "It is illogical to take a course that I would have no interest in." Sakel keeps waiting, and Jim admits, "It would also be illogical to spend the time to explain how I knew Vulcan, and the other core languages were full, sir."

"I will allow part of your logic to stand," says Sakel. "However, I believe that you are not speaking the entire truth."

"Negative, sir," says Jim, cursing Vulcans heartily. He drops into Standard again. "Frankly speaking, sir, if Starfleet knew I could speak Vulcan --"

"And Klingon, and Tellarite, and Andorian," murmurs Sakel gently. Bastard. Klingon totally doesn't count, because all Jim can do is start a bar fight in it. Not that starting a bar fight in Klingon is very difficult. It's like basic Standard. Excuse me, where is the rest room? Excuse me, your father sucks dick on discount bulk rates. Nearly the same thing.

"If they knew," finishes Jim loudly, "I'd be put in Communications and I'm going to be in Command."

Sakel takes another sip of his tea, and thinks. "Your logic stands," he says finally. "Although it should be acknowledged that being in Communications will not logically preclude you from being a captain. Very well, Cadet, I will, as they say, 'strike a deal'."

Jim tries not to tense up, but deep in his monkey hind brain he knows that he's not going to like this 'deal' and that the alternative is going to be deeply unpleasant.

"I will allow you to stay in Basic Principles of Vulcan, and I will even teach you to simulate a Terran accent --" this was a huge favor, Jim knows, because Sakel hates Terran accents with as much venom as any vegan pacifist could hate anything, "-- and in return, you will agree to do all the work assigned, as assigned."

"And if I don't?" says Jim, deeply wary.

"Then I will go to the department head and tell them, I believe the term is, 'a touching story' about the bond among us all, the last of the Kelvin crew, and your language sets." Sakel doesn't even have the grace to look smug about cornering Jim like this.

Jim groans. It's bad enough getting hopeful little memos from Pike and professors who have seen his test scores about potential and honors tracks and testing out of the better part of two years of classes. If they find out he's any good at languages, he'll be flung into communications or diplomacy whether he likes it or not. And he's not going to put it past Sakel to unleash the rest of Jim's terrifying aunties and uncles from the Kelvin on him. "Your logic humbles me, uncle," he says reluctantly. "I accept your terms."

Sakel actually looks faintly pleased for a second, which makes Jim kind of want to go hide under a bed.



Graduate Vulcan for Fun and Profit