Fic: Oil and Water
Title: Oil and Water
Rating: PG
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: Spock, Jim Kirk (can be read as gen or pre-slash), Christopher Pike
Word Count: 1,288
Summary: When it’s Kirk’s turn, Spock crosses his arms but concentrates on listening, wanting to know what Mr. Pike thinks is so special about the stupid punk.
Author's Notes: This is a present day high school AU where Spock is fully human. Written for my square Other: Band for au_bingo . This is more of an orchestra AU than a band one, my thanks to the mods for graciously allowing it.
BIG thanks to
kate for the beta, all her wonderful suggestions, taking the time to answer all my questions, and helping me fix some rather large inaccuracies. ♥
They are rivals, Spock supposes. And as much as he doesn’t like that word, thinks it’s too cliché or childish, he can’t think of another.
He’s disliked Kirk from the moment the sophomore set one foot inside the music room. Kirk’s new this year and he didn’t even bother to show up the first day, just waltzed into Advanced Orchestra on the second day and parked himself at the concertmaster’s chair as if he was entitled to it.
Spock had let his displeasure be known (auditions for that position hadn’t even began yet) and Kirk had replied with a few of his own choice words. Within moments they were snapping at each other and the argument only escalated until Mr. Pike walked in and told everyone to quiet down.
Kirk never even apologized for it, just smirked at Spock when, a couple weeks later, he got the concertmaster position.
Kirk is like oil to Spock’s water, they would sooner repel each other than mix together. Spock thinks it’s because they’re so different from each other. Spock is calm, always trying his best to never let his emotions get the better of him. He’s rational and levelheaded, believes in following the rules and respecting his elders.
Kirk shows respects for no one, he’s brash and thickheaded and just plain illogical. He doesn’t think before he acts, doesn’t follow the rules. He doesn’t understand that there are rules for a reason. They aren’t meant to be broken, they are meant to protect and keep the peace, to keep society from running amok. Rules are for the civilized, something Kirk is clearly not.
Yet, for some reason that utterly baffles Spock, Mr. Pike likes the boy. He praises him in class, calling Jim Kirk a sixteen year old musical genius.
As if.
Would a genius be almost failing all his classes but orchestra? He hardly does any homework or assignments and ditches a lot. He always aces any tests he actually shows up for though (Spock thinks the guy probably cheats). It’s like Kirk does just enough to keep him over the sixtieth percentile so he can graduate.
But it’s not like any of that stops Mr. Pike from pairing the two of them together for the chamber music portion of class. Spock doesn’t understand, he’s always been paired with Nyota before for duets. She gets Spock in a way no one has before and they made a good team.
The forced one-on-one time with Kirk doesn’t go well. Not a day goes by when they don’t get into some kind of argument and then one day it turns physical. The brat pushes Spock too far and he reacts without thinking, punching Kirk in the face. A moment later his own head is snapping back as Kirk retaliates.
Spock may have hit first, but there isn’t any doubt in his mind that Kirk knew his taunting words would invoke that reaction. It’s almost as if Kirk wanted Spock to hit him. Not that Mr. Pike notices, or that the principal cares. Nope. Spock gets the brunt of the blame and the punishment.
And through it all Mr. Pike keeps on insisting that if you two knuckleheads ever get your heads out of your butts and work together, you’d be unstoppable.
Spock is starting to wonder if Mr. Pike is delusional.
It’s Spock’s senior year; it’s supposed to be the best time of high school but as the months pass, Kirk grates on his nerves more and more. He puts up with Kirk, doesn’t really have a choice, and accepts all of Mr. Pike’s decisions (he is the teacher after all).
Until the final pre-state solo and ensemble concert. That is, until Mr. Pike posts the schedule for it. It’s the same format as all the others Spock played in the last four years but unlike previous years, Spock isn’t the last solo, he’s the first. Kirk is last.
Spock barely manages to hold his tongue until class ends. As soon as the last student exists the room, Spock makes a beeline right for the teacher.
“Do you have a moment, Mr. Pike?” he asks, trying not to snarl.
“Of course, Spock, what can I do for you? I’m guessing this is about the concert?”
Spock nods and takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. “Why wasn’t I given the last solo? I always have before. Are you no longer pleased with the way I play? I can-”
“No, no, no, nothing like that. You’re one of the most controlled players I have ever met, Spock. Your technique is flawless, the best in the class,” Mr. Pike says. “But music is more than technique, it’s about passion. Heart.”
Spock blinks, processing. “So you are saying that because Kirk is more passionate about music, he is the better player?”
Mr. Pike shakes his head. “Not at all. You’re both good and both have the potential to be great. But Jim needs to learn control and you need to allow yourself to feel the music, to hear with your heart.”
Spock doesn’t understand, why won’t Mr. Pike give him a direct answer? Mr. Pike must be able to see something on Spock’s face because he sighs and continues, “I gave Jim the last solo because I knew if I assigned it to you than you would spend the whole time backstage rehearsing. This way you’ll be first and when you’re done I want you to put away your cello and sit in the audience. I want you to listen to the other players, especially Jim. I want you to feel the music, to truly listen-“
“With my heart. Yeah, I get it.”
Except he doesn’t.
~ ~ ~ ~
Spock doubles the time he usually spends practicing before a concert. He wants his last performance at the school to be his best, he wants to prove Mr. Pike wrong. He can feel the music just fine.
When the night finally comes, Spock rocks his solo (if the roar of the audience is anything to go by). He plays perfectly, getting every note, rhythm, articulation, and dynamic in the score, and after taking a bow he sees the beaming face of his mother and the approving nod of his father.
Spock can’t help the slight upwards curve of his own lips and his eyes seek out his teacher. Mr. Pike is clapping perfunctorily, just like he does for all his students.
Damn it all, what does Pike want? Spock hit every note perfectly.
He takes a seat in the back, only half listening to the other players, silently fuming.
When it’s Kirk’s turn, Spock crosses his arms but concentrates on listening, wanting to know what Mr. Pike thinks is so special about the stupid punk.
He’s not impressed at first, Kirk sounds like he always does in class and Spock has heard the Kreutzer sonata played dozens of times before. But as Kirk continues, Spock’s arms uncross and he moves his head forward.
There’s something about the way that Kirk seems to glide the bow effortlessly along the violin. Something about the way he hits every note that makes it sound like something brand new. Something about the look on his face that captivates Spock, draws him in as sure as a moth to a flame. Something about the way Kirk plays that makes a few minutes seem both fleeting and forever.
Spock is standing up and applauding loudly as soon as Kirk finishes, not caring about the tears in his eyes.
He finally gets it. Kirk may be a little over-enthusiastic when he plays, may not hit every note just right but when James T. Kirk plays?
It’s like getting a glimpse into Kirk’s very soul.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: Spock, Jim Kirk (can be read as gen or pre-slash), Christopher Pike
Word Count: 1,288
Summary: When it’s Kirk’s turn, Spock crosses his arms but concentrates on listening, wanting to know what Mr. Pike thinks is so special about the stupid punk.
Author's Notes: This is a present day high school AU where Spock is fully human. Written for my square Other: Band for au_bingo . This is more of an orchestra AU than a band one, my thanks to the mods for graciously allowing it.
BIG thanks to
kate for the beta, all her wonderful suggestions, taking the time to answer all my questions, and helping me fix some rather large inaccuracies. ♥
They are rivals, Spock supposes. And as much as he doesn’t like that word, thinks it’s too cliché or childish, he can’t think of another.
He’s disliked Kirk from the moment the sophomore set one foot inside the music room. Kirk’s new this year and he didn’t even bother to show up the first day, just waltzed into Advanced Orchestra on the second day and parked himself at the concertmaster’s chair as if he was entitled to it.
Spock had let his displeasure be known (auditions for that position hadn’t even began yet) and Kirk had replied with a few of his own choice words. Within moments they were snapping at each other and the argument only escalated until Mr. Pike walked in and told everyone to quiet down.
Kirk never even apologized for it, just smirked at Spock when, a couple weeks later, he got the concertmaster position.
Kirk is like oil to Spock’s water, they would sooner repel each other than mix together. Spock thinks it’s because they’re so different from each other. Spock is calm, always trying his best to never let his emotions get the better of him. He’s rational and levelheaded, believes in following the rules and respecting his elders.
Kirk shows respects for no one, he’s brash and thickheaded and just plain illogical. He doesn’t think before he acts, doesn’t follow the rules. He doesn’t understand that there are rules for a reason. They aren’t meant to be broken, they are meant to protect and keep the peace, to keep society from running amok. Rules are for the civilized, something Kirk is clearly not.
Yet, for some reason that utterly baffles Spock, Mr. Pike likes the boy. He praises him in class, calling Jim Kirk a sixteen year old musical genius.
As if.
Would a genius be almost failing all his classes but orchestra? He hardly does any homework or assignments and ditches a lot. He always aces any tests he actually shows up for though (Spock thinks the guy probably cheats). It’s like Kirk does just enough to keep him over the sixtieth percentile so he can graduate.
But it’s not like any of that stops Mr. Pike from pairing the two of them together for the chamber music portion of class. Spock doesn’t understand, he’s always been paired with Nyota before for duets. She gets Spock in a way no one has before and they made a good team.
The forced one-on-one time with Kirk doesn’t go well. Not a day goes by when they don’t get into some kind of argument and then one day it turns physical. The brat pushes Spock too far and he reacts without thinking, punching Kirk in the face. A moment later his own head is snapping back as Kirk retaliates.
Spock may have hit first, but there isn’t any doubt in his mind that Kirk knew his taunting words would invoke that reaction. It’s almost as if Kirk wanted Spock to hit him. Not that Mr. Pike notices, or that the principal cares. Nope. Spock gets the brunt of the blame and the punishment.
And through it all Mr. Pike keeps on insisting that if you two knuckleheads ever get your heads out of your butts and work together, you’d be unstoppable.
Spock is starting to wonder if Mr. Pike is delusional.
It’s Spock’s senior year; it’s supposed to be the best time of high school but as the months pass, Kirk grates on his nerves more and more. He puts up with Kirk, doesn’t really have a choice, and accepts all of Mr. Pike’s decisions (he is the teacher after all).
Until the final pre-state solo and ensemble concert. That is, until Mr. Pike posts the schedule for it. It’s the same format as all the others Spock played in the last four years but unlike previous years, Spock isn’t the last solo, he’s the first. Kirk is last.
Spock barely manages to hold his tongue until class ends. As soon as the last student exists the room, Spock makes a beeline right for the teacher.
“Do you have a moment, Mr. Pike?” he asks, trying not to snarl.
“Of course, Spock, what can I do for you? I’m guessing this is about the concert?”
Spock nods and takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. “Why wasn’t I given the last solo? I always have before. Are you no longer pleased with the way I play? I can-”
“No, no, no, nothing like that. You’re one of the most controlled players I have ever met, Spock. Your technique is flawless, the best in the class,” Mr. Pike says. “But music is more than technique, it’s about passion. Heart.”
Spock blinks, processing. “So you are saying that because Kirk is more passionate about music, he is the better player?”
Mr. Pike shakes his head. “Not at all. You’re both good and both have the potential to be great. But Jim needs to learn control and you need to allow yourself to feel the music, to hear with your heart.”
Spock doesn’t understand, why won’t Mr. Pike give him a direct answer? Mr. Pike must be able to see something on Spock’s face because he sighs and continues, “I gave Jim the last solo because I knew if I assigned it to you than you would spend the whole time backstage rehearsing. This way you’ll be first and when you’re done I want you to put away your cello and sit in the audience. I want you to listen to the other players, especially Jim. I want you to feel the music, to truly listen-“
“With my heart. Yeah, I get it.”
Except he doesn’t.
~ ~ ~ ~
Spock doubles the time he usually spends practicing before a concert. He wants his last performance at the school to be his best, he wants to prove Mr. Pike wrong. He can feel the music just fine.
When the night finally comes, Spock rocks his solo (if the roar of the audience is anything to go by). He plays perfectly, getting every note, rhythm, articulation, and dynamic in the score, and after taking a bow he sees the beaming face of his mother and the approving nod of his father.
Spock can’t help the slight upwards curve of his own lips and his eyes seek out his teacher. Mr. Pike is clapping perfunctorily, just like he does for all his students.
Damn it all, what does Pike want? Spock hit every note perfectly.
He takes a seat in the back, only half listening to the other players, silently fuming.
When it’s Kirk’s turn, Spock crosses his arms but concentrates on listening, wanting to know what Mr. Pike thinks is so special about the stupid punk.
He’s not impressed at first, Kirk sounds like he always does in class and Spock has heard the Kreutzer sonata played dozens of times before. But as Kirk continues, Spock’s arms uncross and he moves his head forward.
There’s something about the way that Kirk seems to glide the bow effortlessly along the violin. Something about the way he hits every note that makes it sound like something brand new. Something about the look on his face that captivates Spock, draws him in as sure as a moth to a flame. Something about the way Kirk plays that makes a few minutes seem both fleeting and forever.
Spock is standing up and applauding loudly as soon as Kirk finishes, not caring about the tears in his eyes.
He finally gets it. Kirk may be a little over-enthusiastic when he plays, may not hit every note just right but when James T. Kirk plays?
It’s like getting a glimpse into Kirk’s very soul.