For Rachiella44: "Don't Blow It For Everyone" (ST:TOS, Chekov)

[SleepingPhlox]

Okay, Rachiella44, as promised...eventually! Sorry about that! There is not a lot of sneezing in this part and soooo much scene-setting. My stories kind of end up like that, I like charting the progress of a cold from the first tickle to full-blown misery. I hope that is okay with you!

Also, this is going to have a few parts. Which I guess could be a good thing? I kinda have it all mapped out, but if you want to say "Oh, you know what I'd love to happen?", feel free, as this is your story, and I want you to be happy with it! Which is another reason why I wanted to break it up.

Anyway, um...here!

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Part 1

He scowled.

He wanted to pout. The feeling inside him seemed to lend itself perfectly to pouting. But such a thing would not be becoming of a Starfleet bridge officer, and doubly so for a bridge officer on the finest ship ever to traverse the galaxy.

So he scowled. He scowled like he never scowled before. He scowled like his life depended on it.

In his defense, Ensign Pavel Chekov was not alone in the Wearing Of Moody Expressions department. Bridge Officers and Senior Staff sat bunched together listening to Lt. Uhura recite what seemed to be an inexhaustible list, every item that was read out further curdling dreams of a blissful shore leave into nightmares of red tape and best behaviour.

It was a delicate situation. The inhabitants of Kravesse 4 had expressed an interest in entering a very beneficial trade agreement with the Federation...providing that the Federation measured up to their very exacting standards. The Kravessians would only deal with people they deemed on the same level as themselves. Captain Kirk was spearheading the negotiations, and the entire crew was invited down to enjoy Kravessian hospitality at its finest-the only catch being that they were to be monitored at all times to ensure that the humans measured up to the criteria in morality and etiquette the Kravessians expected.

Well, the humans and Vulcan...but in reality Spock was likely in little danger of failing to live up to their expectations.

And if they passed the test at the banquet, they would be rewarded by being invited to spend two whole days exploring the planet and all it had to offer. But if one person put a foot wrong, that was game over for everyone's shore leave plans, not to mention the trade negotiations. Not a soul wanted to be the one responsible for that, so all listened intently. Very intently, given that Uhura's voice, though elegant and well-spoken, was just that bit too gentle and soft for giving a speech to a room of impatient and increasingly irritated men.

"...And when entering a room where others are present," she read. "The toe must touch the floor inside the room before the heel. If the heel touches the floor first, it means that you wish to figuratively grind them under your heel for your own personal gain."

Chekov did his best not to groan, and ran his fingers through his mop of brown hair, leaving it even more tousled than usual. These rules were getting more and more ridiculous.

"If you lick your lips while facing someone, it means that you are accusing them of..." She blushed and cast her eyes downward, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of having...sexual relations with your spouse or intended spouse."

Montgomery Scott, who sat to Chekov's left, and surlier than usual due to the present circumstances, shot the young ensign an irritated frown.

"Could you breathe a bit louder, laddie? I nearly managed to make out a couple words there."

Chekov opened his mouth to reply but decided to bite his tongue. Perhaps he did not want to call attention to himself by being disruptive, or perhaps he was not entirely sure how his voice would sound. Or perhaps he had no retort other than admitting that he had no choice but to breathe through his mouth right now. He simply drew his folded arms higher in a gesture of what was supposed to be defiance but looked like sulking and turned his attention back to the reading of the rules.

"Sneezing or coughing in the presence of others is forbidden, as the Kravessians take that to mean that you wish for them to contract an illness. If you make eye contact while performing such an action, it means that you wish for the illness to result in death for that person."

Chekov did his best to hide his reaction, and though he did his best to appear nonchalant, his body tensed and his eyes widened ever so slightly. Although nobody knew it, this would be a rule he would have trouble adhering to. His heart began to beat faster as his mind cast itself to worries. If only skipping the banquet was an option...but apparently that was considered rude too. Everyone missing shore leave and hating him forever...the trade agreement falling to pieces and being reduced to a hapless nobody in the eyes of his captain.

Now he wore a slightly worried expression on his face-he'd be terrible in a game of poker-but in truth everyone was too fixated on Uhura's voice and memorising the rules to even notice. Everyone, except for one person.

Hikaru Sulu kept his head foward, but watched Chekov out of the corner of his eye. He made a mental inventory of all the things he noticed: more unkempt than usual, slumped shoulders, face a shade paler than normal, an ever so slight reddish tinge to his cheeks. He looked tired, and grumpy, and the very edge of his nose kept twitching. He didn't know quite what was wrong with the young man, but he felt concerned. And he cursed himself for not sitting closer. He might not have been able to do anything to help, not now, but at least he could have been present. It tugged at him until he was so distracted he stopped hearing Uhura's words altogether.

He only snapped out of his reverie when he heard Captain Kirk's voice say "Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Sulu?" He swallowed. He had absolutely no idea what he'd be agreeing to or whether it would be best to say yes, or no, or stay indifferent...so it seemed a better option to come clean.

"I...apologise, Captain," he said in his smooth, deep voice. "I was distracted."

"Yes, I am aware of that," Kirk smirked with a raised eyebrow. Carry on, as long as you can remember that when your body is on duty, your mind must be on duty as well."

"Yes, sir." Sulu replied, then, realising that the group was getting up for their seats and making for the exit like they'd just been released from a five year prison sentence, looked back toward Chekov.

And found the young man missing.

He must have taken off as soon as they were dismissed. He was probably the one most eager to get out of there. Sulu decided he would head to the transporter room and meet him there. They were beaming down in groups of three-the Krevassans thought the number three "noble"-and he wanted to make sure that he and Chekov were grouped together. After all, this wasn't just a mission, it was a bit of relaxing shore leave as well, and he knew who he wanted to spend his shore leave with.

Meanwhile, Chekov, having entered the main corridor before anyone else and sprinted off down a small side corridor, scrunched up his face and gritted his teeth. He'd had a sneeze brewing for quite some time, and it was only alone he felt comfortable enough letting it out. However, people were everywhere, and he still needed to hold it back enough to avoid being heard.

Pressing his knuckles to his nose and employing every ounce of control he had in his aching body, he did his best to stifle the sneeze, but the best he managed to do was break it up into a series of kittenish "Ktchh! Hiktcch!" noises that seemed as if they would never end. When they finally did, he took a deep breath, dabbed under his moist nose with the top of his wrist, rejoined the flow of people in the main corridor, and headed for the transporters.

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To be continued...

[Coffee Chicken Barista]

........you are a wonderful human being. I have more or less lost the ability to form coherent thoughts but this is......so wonderful! And yes, a multi-chapter story is perfect! I am so happy right now! Also, I finally had time to start yours so it will be up as soon as I'm done with it!!! YAY!!!!!!!!

Edited October 20, 2015 by Rachiella44

[Bruyere]

!!!!!! I have always wanted to read a Star Trek fic with this premise so I can't wait to see where it goes. I'm only loosely familiar with TOS but that doesn't make this any less enjoyable.

My stories kind of end up like that, I like charting the progress of a cold from the first tickle to full-blown misery.

^This is never going to be a bad thing in my book!

[SleepingPhlox]

Rachiella44-I'm glad you enjoyed it so far. I was a little nervous writing for someone else, like what if I don't get their tastes exactly right, so I am very relieved. I also apologise for this taking so long, I've had stuff handwritten for ages but no time to type it up so I could post it!

Bruyere-Would you believe I have never thought of this premise until this story-I am kinda wondering how it never occured to me before. Y'know, if you have any plot ideas or requests for any of the Star Trek series, any character at all, please feel very free to send them my way, I actually prefer writing for other people a lot of the time!

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Part 2

In the transporter room, Chekov knew there would be a pair of dark, worried eyes searching for him. He wanted to avoid those eyes at all costs. If those eyes found him, there would be questions, questions he did not feel like dealing with right now.

From across the room, he could see Sulu searching the crowd and, with a not-exactly-small pang of guilt, he ducked behind a couple of crewmen before he could be spotted. His best chance at being left alone rested in staying here with these men who didn't know him well enough to start asking stupid probing personal questions like "Are you feeling all right?" or "Really, are you sure you're feeling all right?"

His temper was behaving in much the same manner as a fever that rises until it breaks, leading to unforgiving chills.

Why does he always have to be such a mother hen? Chekov's mind asked, in a rage. If he starts speaking to me, what will he do, anyway? He will only scold me for not looking after myself better. And try to feel my temperature and...argh! It is so infuriating!

And then once the temper had built, it would suddenly break, leaving nothing but the icy fingers of guilt. Hikaru...he only wanted to help. It was in his nature to be caring. He loved that about him. And now he would be sad, wondering why he was being ignored, wondering if he had done something wrong...no, you haven't done anything wrong! It's me, I'm the stubborn one!

The cycle replayed itself over and over again.

He felt a tickle rise in the depth of his sinuses. Desperately, he tried to ignore it. If he sneezed now, in a room full of people, what would be the odds that he'd be able to hide it? Slim to none, that's what the odds would be. Someone would be bound to notice it. Unfortunately, his nose was just plain not in the mood to be reasonable.

Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, as if it was just something he thought of doing for no reason, he turned toward the wall. Then, he raised a hand and pinched his nose as tightly as he possibly could, so that only a "K'chkgh!" managed to escape. The maneuver was successful in stifling the noise, however, it did create a pressure in his head that intensified his ever-growing headache, and also caused a feeling of fullness in his nose that came with an intense sense of urgency. He would need to find something to blow his nose with soon, or it would drip and there would be absolutely no stopping it.

"We need one more," an unfamiliar voice broke into his reverie. "Wanna come with us?"

Oh, they were speaking to him. It was Mr...um...Crewman...Thatguy. Whatever his name was, Chekov was grateful to him. He had just provided him with the perfect way to slip through without having to deal with...anyone. Or anything. The guilt started to wash over him again as he stepped onto the transporter pad. He knew exactly where Sulu was standing and did his very best to keep his eyes from wandering over to that general area. He knew the expression that the other man would be wearing, and he did not feel up to seeing it. He stared straight ahead, twitching slightly as every muscle in his face and neck wanted to look over at Sulu. Just the sight of his face would be reassuring.

At the same time, the urge to sneeze again also washed over him. This was exactly the wrong moment for such an urge to come up. Let it out too soon, and the entire damned crew of the Enterprise would see him do it. Let it out too late and he risked creating a diplomatic incident.

Not letting it out at all would be the ideal situation, but that...was looking...increasingly...unlike...ly...it...tickled...so...much...he...needed...to...

As the light began to shimmer around him, he pinched his nose tightly again, even harder than the last time, and let out a headache-inducing, mucus-loosening "KTCHNKKH!"

When he rematerialised,he was able to appear as if he was just scratching his face.

Back in the transporter room, Sulu was making the exact expression Chekov's mind had predicted. It was a mixture of confusion and hurt, not quite understanding why he had been left behind and, worst of all, ignored. Had they not been looking forward to spending time together during the next shore leave? Had they not spend countless times talking into the early hours of the morning about all the things they wanted to do once they got some time off? About all the things they hoped a shore leave planet would have to do, and experience and...how it wouldn't really matter in the end as long as they got to do it together?

Had he done something wrong? He did not remember anything happeneing recently that could cause a fight. Pavel could be a tough one to understand though. When something upset him, he might clam up, or he might boil over with emotion. Or sometimes a mixture of both.

Well, the young hotheaded Russian might be trying to take the quiet, sulky approach to...whatever it was, but Sulu decided there and then that he was not going to let that happen. He would beam over, find Chekov immediately, corner him, force him to work out...whatever it was, and then they were going to enjoy the rest of the shore leave and this fight,or whatever, was not going to spoil one little microsecond of it.

With renewed determination, Sulu squared his shoulders and found a group to join.

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To be continued!

[ellwren]

Nice! Thanks for posting! I'm always thrilled to see a new Trek story.

[Bruyere]

This is delightful!

His best chance at being left alone rested in staying here with these men who didn't know him well enough to start asking stupid probing personal questions like "Are you feeling all right?" or "Really, are you sure you're feeling all right?"

Aww. And I loved the description of his temper as a kind of fever.

At the same time, the urge to sneeze again also washed over him. This was exactly the wrong moment for such an urge to come up. Let it out too soon, and the entire damned crew of the Enterprise would see him do it. Let it out too late and he risked creating a diplomatic incident.
Not letting it out at all would be the ideal situation, but that...was looking...increasingly...unlike...ly...it...tickled...so...much...he...needed...to...
As the light began to shimmer around him, he pinched his nose tightly again, even harder than the last time, and let out a headache-inducing, mucus-loosening "KTCHNKKH!"
When he rematerialised,he was able to appear as if he was just scratching his face.

Hee! this whole section was genius! I hope I'm not wrong in looking forward to many more attempts at hiding sneezes.

[Coffee Chicken Barista]

This...I can't...I....hhhhhhnnnggghhh!!!!! That is all I am capable of right now. It just....words...are...not....happening. Haha! I absolutely love this! It's so wonderful!

Also, I know I said I'd have the first part of yours up this weekend but then life got in the way and ugh. So, naturally, I am behind on that but it should be up within the next few days. Sorry.