One more day, Jim mused as he waited for the shuttle he was on to stop and reveal the revitalized Enterprise. Just one more fucking day planet-side. After that, he had no idea when he'd see his home-world, let alone hometown, again. Daunting? Not as much as it probably should be.

For all the turmoil Jim had bouncing around inside his own skull, he still managed to keep an excited air about everything – straight down to a little bounce in his step. This was what he had always wanted (okay, since he got the ever loving shit beat out of him and was subsequently booted into reality by Pike in a dive bar), and he couldn't seem to keep the excitement down.

Not that he really wanted to.

He'd been feeling like complete shit for too long, far too conflicted. Ever since they returned and he got a good look at the list of the lost lives, reading each name he recognized several times and taking the trouble to look up the ones which he thought he should remember, he just couldn't seem to shake a haze that was constantly tugging at the back of his mind.

Then he went and got all fucking philosophical. Not cool, just … yeah, no. Sure, he had a plan on how to work through figuring out this new hang up, but that didn't make it easier. Not that Jim preferred easy dilemmas, per se; but he had more important things than this new maze to the answer of a generally irrelevant question.

Jim had the route, but he still had to do the leg work. The leg work wasn't all that fucking simple, either. Wasn't there some poem pertaining to that? Wait. That was about two roads and taking the one covered in vines and shit.

All right, he actually had the Frost poem nearly memorized. There was a teacher when he was about a freshman in high school that had "seen so much potential" in him and drilled that poem into his head. Apparently, through all the later information vying to occupy every spare neuron he had, Jim managed to retain a few lines about a "road less traveled."

Appropriate, he thought with a small grin as he stepped off and took in the new shine of the Enterprise. Jesus Christ, she was a beautiful piece of work. Jim had admired the ship when he'd seen it in passing once. He didn't really get the chance when Bones was trying to kill him with various hyposprays or smuggle him onto the ship; Jim still wasn't entirely sure which goal had been most pressing for the doctor. When they finally managed to get back to the spacedock, no one wanted to look at her. She was mangled and it was fucking depressing. If he'd been the type, Jim would have wept over the sheer destruction of genuine art.

He was fairly certain the man he was meeting had at least shed a little tear in honor of seeing something so great torn down so far.

"Kirk!" In one word, Jim knew who it was and couldn't stop the grin. Montgomery Scott was a rather unique individual. Scottish, so eccentric he toed crazy, and a complete mastermind. Jim was a fan.

"Scotty," he held out a hand. After they greeted each other, Scotty giving his hand a shake which was only slightly too enthusiastic, they turned to admire their new home.

The engineer let out a long whistle. "Damn. Glad ye' got stranded on the ice berg, Cap'in. I'm one lucky man." There was pride oozing from his every pore and Jim knew exactly how he felt, especially when he chose to ignore how he'd ended up on Delta Vega to begin with.

"Ready to get a good look at her? She's in perfect condition this time."

"Aye. My type a' lady. All polished up an' pretty."

Laughing, Jim clapped a hand on Scotty's back and led the way over to the engineer who had been overseeing the repairs.

Even though they knew the ship's layout by then, Jim surprisingly didn't mind following some random maintenance guy around to double check everything which had previously been demolished. He didn't have the time to accurately check everything he needed to, but that's why his crew was coming in early. The senior staff, which was nearly a laughable term, was checking their own stations. Except engineering.

Momentarily forgetting why he hadn't thought he could handle this himself, he watched Scotty's bored expression as he wandered the corridors. These areas had been damaged on a superficial level at best. When they reached Scotty's new territory, however, the air around them charged with translucent exhilaration. The "kid in a candy store" cliché was about as trite as they came, but Jim wasn't quite eloquent enough to formulate a more appropriate metaphor.

"State o' the art!" And that was the last clear sentence Jim heard. Scotty went about removing panels to check wires and connections, making random exclamations of approval and muttering quietly about how he may be able to change this or that to improve them above current Starfleet standards.

Jim knew enough to commend the repair team and sign off on everything. This was one hell of a ship and he couldn't quite get over it. Their guide seemed pleased and left them to it. With similar feelings, Jim did the same for Scotty and headed for the bridge.

He ran his hands over terminals, checking a few systems as he went. When he was sure he'd followed the basics of protocol and the computer systems seemed up to par, he headed for his favorite piece of equipment. The chair.

Damn, he loved this thing. Grinning at full wattage even without an audience, Jim ran his hand over the back as he walked around. He stared for a few more seconds before sitting in it; all right, he sprawled. The thing was practically orgasmic, that's how enthralled he was.

Controls checked, re-familiarization with all the bells and whistles completed, Jim leaned back and took a good look around. He was trying to picture everyone there, manning their appropriate stations, when his eyes fell on the science station and he knew who would be there if he had his way.

Just like that, the grin started to fade and Jim was unceremoniously catapulted back into the depths of reflection. While he went about cataloguing the information he already had, yet again, Jim gave some serious thought to where this was going and why he was so incredibly taken with this task. He wasn't a psychiatrist, sociologist, or philosopher. If they couldn't figure this out, why was he trying again? Why was he comparing himself to someone who had spent a lifetime building a reputation, his own version 1.0?

Maybe no one could agree on an answer because it was different for everyone. That made sense. People loved to debate and when it came to things like life and the meaning of, no one could agree. Jim could fit this into his model easily. Whatever this Locke guy had to say about "Tabula rasas" was irrelevant because everyone needed their own answer.

Chekov was a genius and while Jim hadn't exactly delved deep into the kid's life, he thought that was a clear sign of blank slates and fate. Some things just didn't change no matter what you did. Then Uhura happened and shot that all to hell because their entire dynamic was changing and that was clearly a nurture scenario. A lightbulb started to flicker and Jim could see some fog clearing.

A breakthrough was coming, a sudden epiphany…If he kept at this for just another minute…

But he heard the turbolift stop and heavy footfalls were filling the air.

"Wondering where you got off to," Scotty grinned, hands in pockets and some dark grease smeared across his cheek. Jim tried to shake some sense into himself. He didn't get the façade up quick enough and Scotty's brow twisted in confusion. "Sho'd I come back? Getting a little acquainted with that chair there?"

A soft chuckle escaped Jim's throat before he gave it the all-clear to do so. He really needed to remind himself never to just barge onto the engineering deck because no one needed to know what Scotty did with his free time.

"Shut up," he laughed again and shoved out of his chair. "You ready to head out? All good down below?"

"In go'd shape!" Scotty nodded, surprisingly ignoring the double meaning Jim hadn't taken back. "She'll do us well, Kirk. No doubt 'bout that."

"Glad to hear it. I thought everything looked good." They took the lift back down and shared a companionable silence until Jim started thinking too hard and had to speak to ensure he kept a firm grasp on sanity.

"You're pretty damn good at what you do, Mr. Scott," Jim mused just for something to say.

The other man's face lit up a little. "Thank ye'. I like t' thin' so. It's just one o' those things, makes perfect sense."

Jim shook his head, calling for a shuttle they had on stand-by. The Enterprise had been docked farther away than usual in order to give the repair crew more room to work. Both men turned to watch the ship just be as they waited and Jim knew he couldn't complain about anything if the results were this satisfactory.

Before he acknowledged what was coming out of his mouth, he was asking Scotty questions. "How do you come up with some of what you do, anyway? You've got everything down to a science."

"It is science," the Scotsman laughed. "I can jus' see it. Put me up 'ere with warpcores an' narcelles an' I get it. Order to it, but ya gotta risk it. Ta'e some chances. You gon' stop me doing that?"

They both knew he wouldn't, within reason, so Jim didn't deign to respond. Instead, he was reorganizing his plan. Scotty was pretty open. Jim hadn't wanted to pry too much with Chekov because the kid had been a bit wrapped up in the pretty waitress and would have probably taken his questions as orders. Fairly certain Scotty wouldn't answer something too personal, Jim started firing with things he still needed answers to.

"Did you always want to do this, engineering on a starship, or did you just fall into it?" Jim felt like he was reading from a prompter and only altering necessary phrases. Had to start small, right?

"Working on ge'in to know the crew's inner-workings, Cap'in?" Scotty chuckled but answered before Jim could even begin to feel repentant. "There was some debate for awhile. Me mum was pushing for a doctor or 'least anything keepin' me planet-side. Da wanted someone t' ta'e over the family business. 'Bout got disowned, but this is it." He attempted to encompass all that was their future with one broad hand gesture.

Jim was a bit skeptical. From all the things Scott apparently knew, it was obvious the man had devoted his entire life to this. From what he did to get them out of the black hole that was the Narada, he was obviously damn good at it. Spock 1.0 had demonstrated Scott's genius by giving him a nudge toward formulas he would have invented eventually anyway. The sheer rapture Scotty fell into whenever he was presented with something pertaining to engineering proved that he probably hadn't developed many other hobbies.

"So wait," Jim started, hand making a rewind motion. "You went against your parents and just did this? They weren't…supportive?"

A shrug was the short answer. The long answer lasted most of the trip back and elaborated on how the Scott family was very small and didn't take kindly to having the only son up and leave to achieve something that hadn't fit into their plan. Scotty formed his own plan, however, and did what he wanted. Plans and parental consent be damned!

Again, Jim shouldn't be shocked. Had he been in a similar position, he would have done what Scotty did simply to be contradictory. Actually, he sort of had. His mother had practically begged him to do something productive and enlisted a whole slew of people to attempt various versions of persuasion. Jim had laughed in their faces, except his mother's; he placated her with vague and generally broken promises. He'd needed a challenge and maybe Scotty had been like that.

"Ever get discouraged and think you were wasting your time?" Jim's vocal tone was a bit more intense than he'd planned. He cleared his throat, brows furrowing. "Well, what I mean is…" He'd said what he meant, just not with much tact. Bones was working on teaching him proper, conversational tact. It wasn't working.

"No. I got the instincts for this," Scotty shrugged. "Like that McCoy of yours 'as go' the instinct for medical an' you go' the commanding instinct."

This stopped him short. Or maybe the way his stomach lurched toward his throat was from the unexpected stopping of the shuttle. Jim was still turning this over in his head as they stepped off. Scotty watched him for an extra minute, fairly certain cranks were visibly turning in Jim's eyes.

"Wait, what? I've got captain instincts?" Jim nodded at a few people from sheer obligation, but was still focused on the older man.

"You ne'er seemed t' have confidence issues." His skepticism was thick. "You ca' only teach so much. You, m' friend, got a gift. You just know what to do."

"That a nice was of saying I learned how to work through adrenaline?" A smirk quirked up one corner of Jim's mouth.

"Yes." Scotty nodded and clapped a hand against Jim's shoulder. "Whate'er works. We got raw talent."

Jim was relieved and surprised, stunned but coherent. There were too many conflicting emotions to do much other than laugh. "I mention I like you?"

"Figured as much when I was on the list." Stabbing a hand over his shoulder, he spared a last look for Jim. "I go' a sandwich and beer wit' my name on it. Wan' t' come with?"

"No thanks. But I'll see you in the morning." Jim gave the guy a little shake of the shoulder before turning to go his own way. "Glad you approve."

"As well ye' shou'd be!"

This had definitely been a very productive day. One, Jim had seen his ship and was more than pleased with what had been done. Two, he'd gotten to be in someone else's head for a while and now understood a bit of how his Chief Engineer thought. Three, he'd generally gotten to know the before mentioned man, which was definitely going to be helpful in the future. Four, he'd been able to lean just a touch more fully toward some predetermined fates.

Montgomery Scott seemed fairly similar to James Kirk. Oh, their backgrounds were pretty damn different; but their personalities were a tad too similar to ignore. They'd both had some sort of latent talent that drove them toward their current path. If he was willing to listen to the other man's insights, at least. Which, honestly, he was fine with doing.

Not because he'd been praised, either. Jim realized what Scotty was saying. You could have the world stacked against you, everything pushing you to give in and give up. When you could just throw in the towel and get counted out, pushing on meant something.

Scotty was good at what he did and Jim would never deny that. More than what the brief conversation with Chekov had offered, Scotty gave him a colorful backlog instead of the black and white one that was on official documents. It would have been easy for Scotty to go into a different line of work. Clearly, he was smart and could have managed just about anything, but this was what he liked and what he chose.

A choice should imply nurture and shoot a blank slate into tiny pieces. Jim disagreed with that assumption. All he needed to do was consider what you did with what you had. Scotty was born with an ability to understand and manipulate complex systems. He'd been given enough character strength to follow that right up to the Enterprise. Jim could appreciate that as the natural order of things.

Thoughtful expressions were alternating with confused ones; Jim could feel when his face shifted from one to the other. He chose to ignore this as he made his way back to his quarters and determined to call his mother for a proper goodbye, or at least as proper as he could manage without going to Iowa.

As he was keying in his passcode, Jim remembered that near epiphany he'd had. What had that been? Where was he going with those thoughts? Trying to recall them felt futile. His head was too full of new ideas from Scotty. Nature was apparently up a step and that was okay with Jim. If he wasn't one for a challenge, he'd have called the game while he was ahead.

He was in the process of waiting more patiently than usual for his mother to answer his message when he muttered "Something's still missing…"

"What's missing?" The familiar voice reached him. Jim looked at the screen to see the smiling face of pretty much the only person who hadn't accepted him as a failure, at least at one point in time. He couldn't help smiling in return.

"Uh…I lost a shoe."

AN: First, I apologize for taking so long! I wanted desperately to get this up before now, but life happened. (I had to go to my parents' for a few days; my clumsy nature sprained my wrist; my dog is still recovering from knee surgery and requires CONSTANT supervision; I've been obsessed with an idea for a new story and trying desperately to work that out; and I've dived back into reading RPS, of all things.) Second, this is going to be long; and I am sorry for that, too. At any rate: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really am glad you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying being a little bit of a headcase while I'm writing Jim working through this issue. Now, to answer a couple questions:

Jim's coming across as a bit irrationally obsessed with the topic because I haven't given more of a reason than seeing a sign in a bar. That's intentional. Why he's so into figuring this out will come up…as soon as he figures it out himself. There are still a few chapters to get through before that gets explained so speculate on why he's comparing himself to the alternate/older version of himself in this whole mess at will! And if you're waiting on a specific character to pop up…well, I'm running through the major players, so I'm sure they will! I'm going to try to clear anything else up in the narrative. Also, it's been brought to my attention that I may be rushing a little and skimping on proper thought-processes for deciding which interaction goes where. Reading back, I completely agree and my chapters are probably going to get longer from here (though, hopefully, my ANs will get MUCH shorter).

About this chapter, I know the beginning reads as a recap. That's partially because that's just how I write especially since this is thought heavy and our favorite Captain is dwelling, but mostly because I had the thoughts post-uploading and liked them too much to let go. And I suck at writing accents – except Southern because that's what I've got myself.

As always reviews are good karma! I like to know what people think!

* XTina *