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scotty_chekov2010-01-26 02:12 pm
hollsh.livejournal.com) wrote in scotty_chekov2010-01-26 02:12 pm
Perfect Day/I Will Wait For You
Did a couple wee 1000 word fics for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
teamscokov, so I thought I'd post them here for everyone to enjoy.
Title: Perfect Day
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hollsh
Beta:kuro_nyoko and madeyemax
Summary: Scotty's plans get changed on him at the last moment, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Normally Scotty didn't mind extended shifts, usually being the first to volunteer for them. Though this was generally because he didn't have much to do with his spare time, aside from reading technical journals in his quarters. In the last couple of weeks, however, the time he spent not working was slowly becoming more precious as his friendship with a certain blue-eyed navigator grew. Their chance encounters after their shifts soon became daily meetings, hours spent pouring over physics journals and transporter theory articles together, gushing over the details that made everyone else's eyes glaze over.
It didn't take Scotty long to notice that Pavel Chekov was more than a genius, he was truly special, and it was almost instantly after that realization that he knew that he was falling for the boy. He didn't know how much of a chance he stood, an old man starry-eyed over a boy young enough to be his son. But, with the blessed help of two hits of scotch and a quick prayer, he managed to ask Chekov out on a date, and miraculously, for reasons Scotty still didn't comprehend, he said yes.
However, it would seem that fate wasn't as firmly on his side as he had once thought. His scheduled date, the one he'd been looking forward to for days now, was cancelled. Instead of romancing a gorgeous young genius, he'd be doing routine checks on the matter/antimatter reaction assembly. Of course Chekov had been understanding when he told him, but Scotty still felt terrible about letting the poor boy down. He'd been kindly enough to say yes to him, only to be stood up at the last minute. The sound of disappointment in Chekov's voice was haunting him, making an already difficult shift nearly impossible. He'd have to remind himself to make it up to his staff later; it wasn't their fault their cranky git of a chief had a crush.
"Mr. Scott!"
The sound of his name broke Scotty's concentration, turning his eyes from his work to the lanky blond lieutenant jogging towards him.
"What is it, Reynolds?" Scotty said, a little ashamed at the edge in his voice as he looked at the PADD in his hands.
"There's a problem in access tube eighteen, it's urgent," Reynolds reported.
"Then do something about it, I'm busy," Scotty replied, shaking his head.
"Sir, I think it's something that requires your attention," said Reynolds, wincing a little at the look Scotty gave him. "Honestly, sir...it's more your expertise..."
"Why do I even bother having a staff?" Scotty grunted, resisting the urge to throw the PADD over his shoulder, shoving it into Reynolds' hands instead. "Make yourself useful here, then."
He didn't wait for a reply, heading straight for access tube eighteen. Thankfully, it was one of the wider tubes and he didn't have to hunch down to avoid bumping his head as he began to crawl inside. The second he looked into the tube, however, he knew what the problem was.
"Surprise," Chekov said, sitting crosslegged with a blanket spread out in front of him, a plate of sandwiches set in the middle with a couple of cups of tea and some cookies.
"Pavel..." Scotty was shocked beyond words for a moment before he laughed softly.
"I figured because you could not leave Engineering for our date, I would bring our date here," Chekov explained with a little shrug and a smile. "Besides...I think this is oddly fitting for us, yes?"
"It's bloody perfect is what it is..." Scotty laughed, utterly delighted with the efforts Chekov had gone to as he took a seat across from him, reaching for his tea. "Wait, is this...?"
"Earl Grey, with a little splash of scotch. I remembered you told me your Mum would make it like that, and you like it with shortbread cookies," Chekov said, his cheeks flushing as he pointed to the biscuits. "The sandwiches, you said that your favourite was baps with ham, cheese, and just a bit of butter, so that is what I brought. And sponge toffee, of course, you said that was your favourite candy when you were little and it reminds you of your Gran because she would sneak them to you all the time."
"You remembered all that?" Scotty asked, though he figured he shouldn't be surprised that Chekov's memory was photographic.
"I thought if we could not have fancy things, then at least I could show you that I listen to you, yes?" grinned Chekov, picking up a cookie and holding it out for the other man. "I thought maybe that would mean more than fancy."
Scotty didn't know what to say for a second as he took the cookie from Chekov, staring at him with a mix of adoration and disbelief.
"Lad, you..." he began, trailing off as he shook his head. He was good at math and science, not poetry, and Chekov deserved no less at the moment. This gesture was not only touching, but made him realize just how hard he'd fallen for Chekov, and that the feelings were obviously mutual.
"I am not missing anything, am I?" Chekov asked, chuckling.
Scotty wanted to tell him that this was all perfect, unexpected and utterly beautiful, but he could only laugh and shake his head.
"You're only short one thing," he said, his voice shaky and a little unsure as he leaned over the spread, cupping the back of Chekov's neck gently as he pulled him in for a kiss. His lips were warm, sweetened by a sampled toffee, and softer than Scotty had imagined. It sent goosebumps rising in waves down his body, and when it broke, he wasn't sure if he could breathe any more.
"It's perfect..." Scotty smiled. "Absolutely perfect."
Title: I Will Wait For You
Author/Artist:hollsh
Beta:madeyemax
Rating: PG
Summary: Three months after Scotty's disappearance, Chekov struggles to cope.
To anyone else on the ship, it was an ordinary blue mug. It was capable of holding fifteen ounces of liquid, generally coffee judging by the stained rings on the inside, and there was an emblem of a Scottish flag on the outside. The handle was white and bore a small chip that was almost unnoticeable to the eye, but easy to find by touch. In all, it would have been judged as completely unremarkable to everyone on board except for Pavel Chekov who knew that, in the right light, you could see the faint imprint of a bottom lip on the edge of its rim.
That mark made the mug Chekov's prized possession. It was the last trace that Montgomery Scott had left behind when he disappeared.
Chekov had been on the bridge that day. He'd been at his station, looking forward at the screen, when the shuttle carrying his boyfriend and three other men had blinked out of existence. The anomaly it had been sent to examine had vanished with the craft, leaving only darkness and a shocked crew behind. He remembered the sound of klaxons, the voices of men and women around him as they tried to locate the missing shuttle. He couldn't move, however, it was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him as he stared at the empty void where the man he loved had just been.
The mug, which had spent a good few days resting on the table where Scotty had left it, had now made its way into the bedroom. It sat on Scotty's nightstand, in front of a picture of the two of them taken the last time they had shore leave. In it, they were hugging each other, smiling with their cheeks pressed together. It had been a good day for them both, beginning with breakfast in bed, and culminating with Scotty proposing to him on the beach under the stars.
They were supposed to get married today. Right now, he should be Mr. Pavel Scott, and he should be lying in his husband's arms, drunk on wine and happiness. Instead, he was alone in the bed they once shared, and the bottle of scotch had done more to weigh down his spirits than lift them.
He wasn't living any more, he was simply existing.
"Don't give up, kid, you never know what can happen," McCoy said, looking down at the ensign. "I'm going to give you something to relax so you can sleep, but you need to start eating as well."
"I can not...I do not want to sleep," Chekov begged weakly. "No, he is in my dreams, and then I wake up and I am still alone and, I do not...I do not want to see him only to lose him again..."
McCoy looked over at Kirk, the two exchanging a worried glance. Kirk had been the one who found Chekov pacing inside of his quarters, his hair shorn off and strewn on the bathroom floor. Unable to talk Chekov into coming with him willingly, Kirk had to send for McCoy to come sedate the frantic boy and bring him to Sickbay.
"Chekov...Pavel," Kirk began, stepping forward. "He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, he'd be heartbroken at the state you're in. I know it hurts, Pavel, but he could very well still be out there, you need to keep your hope alive."
"Captain, what makes you think I do not have hope...?" Chekov asked, his voice raw and small. "If I did not, I would not be here..."
Sleeping without him was still an adjustment. There was nothing to recreate that warmth, the feeling of being protected and loved in his most vulnerable state. Curled on his side, Chekov reached out over the other side of the bed, pulling the other pillow towards him, pressing his face into it. As hard as he tried, he couldn't smell Scotty on it any more, the aroma having faded from the bedding, as well as his clothing, over the course of the last three months. The purifiers that worked to keep the air clean had robbed him of that.
The people who had once been telling him not to give up were now the ones telling Chekov that he had to accept what had happened and begin to heal. They looked at him with pity when he explained that he couldn't begin to, and that the only reason he ate, slept, or looked after himself at all was because he was awaiting Scotty's arrival. He wanted their reunion to be a happy one.
As days passed into weeks and months, he knew they were all worried about him, he could hear the whispers about him being delusional. He didn't care if he was alone in believing that Scotty still existed somewhere in the universe. Even if it was false hope, it was holding him together.
The silence was overwhelming, There was no sound of breathing aside from his own, the little sleep murmurs were gone, there was no chest to press his ear against to hear that comforting beat.
"Monty...oh God, Monty, you need to come back to me..." Chekov whispered into the darkness, his voice choked. "You said you would always be here, you told me you would marry me..."
There was no reply, nothing but the gentle hum of the ship answered Chekov as he broke down into hysterical sobs. In that moment, he let it all go, wailing out his fear and heartbreak, mourning the loss of the man who was to be his husband, and the life that was to be his.
Drowned out in his cries, however, was the sound of the door sliding open, and footsteps crossing the floor.
"Pasha...?"
That he had heard.
Turning around to face the familiar figure in the doorway, his jaw dropped, and Chekov felt his heart begin to beat with purpose for the first time in months.
"Monty..."
teamscokov, so I thought I'd post them here for everyone to enjoy. Title: Perfect Day
Author:
hollshBeta:
kuro_nyoko and madeyemaxSummary: Scotty's plans get changed on him at the last moment, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
Normally Scotty didn't mind extended shifts, usually being the first to volunteer for them. Though this was generally because he didn't have much to do with his spare time, aside from reading technical journals in his quarters. In the last couple of weeks, however, the time he spent not working was slowly becoming more precious as his friendship with a certain blue-eyed navigator grew. Their chance encounters after their shifts soon became daily meetings, hours spent pouring over physics journals and transporter theory articles together, gushing over the details that made everyone else's eyes glaze over.
It didn't take Scotty long to notice that Pavel Chekov was more than a genius, he was truly special, and it was almost instantly after that realization that he knew that he was falling for the boy. He didn't know how much of a chance he stood, an old man starry-eyed over a boy young enough to be his son. But, with the blessed help of two hits of scotch and a quick prayer, he managed to ask Chekov out on a date, and miraculously, for reasons Scotty still didn't comprehend, he said yes.
However, it would seem that fate wasn't as firmly on his side as he had once thought. His scheduled date, the one he'd been looking forward to for days now, was cancelled. Instead of romancing a gorgeous young genius, he'd be doing routine checks on the matter/antimatter reaction assembly. Of course Chekov had been understanding when he told him, but Scotty still felt terrible about letting the poor boy down. He'd been kindly enough to say yes to him, only to be stood up at the last minute. The sound of disappointment in Chekov's voice was haunting him, making an already difficult shift nearly impossible. He'd have to remind himself to make it up to his staff later; it wasn't their fault their cranky git of a chief had a crush.
"Mr. Scott!"
The sound of his name broke Scotty's concentration, turning his eyes from his work to the lanky blond lieutenant jogging towards him.
"What is it, Reynolds?" Scotty said, a little ashamed at the edge in his voice as he looked at the PADD in his hands.
"There's a problem in access tube eighteen, it's urgent," Reynolds reported.
"Then do something about it, I'm busy," Scotty replied, shaking his head.
"Sir, I think it's something that requires your attention," said Reynolds, wincing a little at the look Scotty gave him. "Honestly, sir...it's more your expertise..."
"Why do I even bother having a staff?" Scotty grunted, resisting the urge to throw the PADD over his shoulder, shoving it into Reynolds' hands instead. "Make yourself useful here, then."
He didn't wait for a reply, heading straight for access tube eighteen. Thankfully, it was one of the wider tubes and he didn't have to hunch down to avoid bumping his head as he began to crawl inside. The second he looked into the tube, however, he knew what the problem was.
"Surprise," Chekov said, sitting crosslegged with a blanket spread out in front of him, a plate of sandwiches set in the middle with a couple of cups of tea and some cookies.
"Pavel..." Scotty was shocked beyond words for a moment before he laughed softly.
"I figured because you could not leave Engineering for our date, I would bring our date here," Chekov explained with a little shrug and a smile. "Besides...I think this is oddly fitting for us, yes?"
"It's bloody perfect is what it is..." Scotty laughed, utterly delighted with the efforts Chekov had gone to as he took a seat across from him, reaching for his tea. "Wait, is this...?"
"Earl Grey, with a little splash of scotch. I remembered you told me your Mum would make it like that, and you like it with shortbread cookies," Chekov said, his cheeks flushing as he pointed to the biscuits. "The sandwiches, you said that your favourite was baps with ham, cheese, and just a bit of butter, so that is what I brought. And sponge toffee, of course, you said that was your favourite candy when you were little and it reminds you of your Gran because she would sneak them to you all the time."
"You remembered all that?" Scotty asked, though he figured he shouldn't be surprised that Chekov's memory was photographic.
"I thought if we could not have fancy things, then at least I could show you that I listen to you, yes?" grinned Chekov, picking up a cookie and holding it out for the other man. "I thought maybe that would mean more than fancy."
Scotty didn't know what to say for a second as he took the cookie from Chekov, staring at him with a mix of adoration and disbelief.
"Lad, you..." he began, trailing off as he shook his head. He was good at math and science, not poetry, and Chekov deserved no less at the moment. This gesture was not only touching, but made him realize just how hard he'd fallen for Chekov, and that the feelings were obviously mutual.
"I am not missing anything, am I?" Chekov asked, chuckling.
Scotty wanted to tell him that this was all perfect, unexpected and utterly beautiful, but he could only laugh and shake his head.
"You're only short one thing," he said, his voice shaky and a little unsure as he leaned over the spread, cupping the back of Chekov's neck gently as he pulled him in for a kiss. His lips were warm, sweetened by a sampled toffee, and softer than Scotty had imagined. It sent goosebumps rising in waves down his body, and when it broke, he wasn't sure if he could breathe any more.
"It's perfect..." Scotty smiled. "Absolutely perfect."
Title: I Will Wait For You
Author/Artist:
hollshBeta:
madeyemaxRating: PG
Summary: Three months after Scotty's disappearance, Chekov struggles to cope.
To anyone else on the ship, it was an ordinary blue mug. It was capable of holding fifteen ounces of liquid, generally coffee judging by the stained rings on the inside, and there was an emblem of a Scottish flag on the outside. The handle was white and bore a small chip that was almost unnoticeable to the eye, but easy to find by touch. In all, it would have been judged as completely unremarkable to everyone on board except for Pavel Chekov who knew that, in the right light, you could see the faint imprint of a bottom lip on the edge of its rim.
That mark made the mug Chekov's prized possession. It was the last trace that Montgomery Scott had left behind when he disappeared.
Chekov had been on the bridge that day. He'd been at his station, looking forward at the screen, when the shuttle carrying his boyfriend and three other men had blinked out of existence. The anomaly it had been sent to examine had vanished with the craft, leaving only darkness and a shocked crew behind. He remembered the sound of klaxons, the voices of men and women around him as they tried to locate the missing shuttle. He couldn't move, however, it was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him as he stared at the empty void where the man he loved had just been.
The mug, which had spent a good few days resting on the table where Scotty had left it, had now made its way into the bedroom. It sat on Scotty's nightstand, in front of a picture of the two of them taken the last time they had shore leave. In it, they were hugging each other, smiling with their cheeks pressed together. It had been a good day for them both, beginning with breakfast in bed, and culminating with Scotty proposing to him on the beach under the stars.
They were supposed to get married today. Right now, he should be Mr. Pavel Scott, and he should be lying in his husband's arms, drunk on wine and happiness. Instead, he was alone in the bed they once shared, and the bottle of scotch had done more to weigh down his spirits than lift them.
He wasn't living any more, he was simply existing.
"Don't give up, kid, you never know what can happen," McCoy said, looking down at the ensign. "I'm going to give you something to relax so you can sleep, but you need to start eating as well."
"I can not...I do not want to sleep," Chekov begged weakly. "No, he is in my dreams, and then I wake up and I am still alone and, I do not...I do not want to see him only to lose him again..."
McCoy looked over at Kirk, the two exchanging a worried glance. Kirk had been the one who found Chekov pacing inside of his quarters, his hair shorn off and strewn on the bathroom floor. Unable to talk Chekov into coming with him willingly, Kirk had to send for McCoy to come sedate the frantic boy and bring him to Sickbay.
"Chekov...Pavel," Kirk began, stepping forward. "He wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, he'd be heartbroken at the state you're in. I know it hurts, Pavel, but he could very well still be out there, you need to keep your hope alive."
"Captain, what makes you think I do not have hope...?" Chekov asked, his voice raw and small. "If I did not, I would not be here..."
Sleeping without him was still an adjustment. There was nothing to recreate that warmth, the feeling of being protected and loved in his most vulnerable state. Curled on his side, Chekov reached out over the other side of the bed, pulling the other pillow towards him, pressing his face into it. As hard as he tried, he couldn't smell Scotty on it any more, the aroma having faded from the bedding, as well as his clothing, over the course of the last three months. The purifiers that worked to keep the air clean had robbed him of that.
The people who had once been telling him not to give up were now the ones telling Chekov that he had to accept what had happened and begin to heal. They looked at him with pity when he explained that he couldn't begin to, and that the only reason he ate, slept, or looked after himself at all was because he was awaiting Scotty's arrival. He wanted their reunion to be a happy one.
As days passed into weeks and months, he knew they were all worried about him, he could hear the whispers about him being delusional. He didn't care if he was alone in believing that Scotty still existed somewhere in the universe. Even if it was false hope, it was holding him together.
The silence was overwhelming, There was no sound of breathing aside from his own, the little sleep murmurs were gone, there was no chest to press his ear against to hear that comforting beat.
"Monty...oh God, Monty, you need to come back to me..." Chekov whispered into the darkness, his voice choked. "You said you would always be here, you told me you would marry me..."
There was no reply, nothing but the gentle hum of the ship answered Chekov as he broke down into hysterical sobs. In that moment, he let it all go, wailing out his fear and heartbreak, mourning the loss of the man who was to be his husband, and the life that was to be his.
Drowned out in his cries, however, was the sound of the door sliding open, and footsteps crossing the floor.
"Pasha...?"
That he had heard.
Turning around to face the familiar figure in the doorway, his jaw dropped, and Chekov felt his heart begin to beat with purpose for the first time in months.
"Monty..."