» Here's to the past.

[phonetical]

When; Friday night, November 13 SP00KY DAY
Rating; PG for drinking?
Characters; Nyota Uhura and Pavel Chekov
Summary; Ohana means family and family means nobody gets left behind. Even if that somebody is a boy genius left in the City for too long.
Log;

It doesn't take a highly intelligent being to realize that something is wrong in the Starfleet family. Not the Voyager one, though they have their own problems, but the Enterprise one. They're here, almost all of them except a fair handful, but they're broken. And one particular piece has found its home on the sidelines and it bothers Uhura. She doesn't know how to bring it up to Chekov that she's noticed he's changed, he's less eager to please, less liable to reach out and contact the team. Can she blame him for that, after spending so long here without them except for her, only to have her leave and then the rest of them come all in a rush interrupting the life he's created here? No. Uhura wouldn't even begin to go there. But that doesn't mean she can accept him being the odd man out, so when she knocks on his door, she hopes he's not home with his girlfriend. She's never met the girl and has no reason to have anything against her, but this is something she needs to kick about with him and him alone.

Comments

[candothat]

Chekov and Lucy are, fortunately, one of those couples who can bear to be separated from each other for extended periods of time. Chekov is home alone, fiddling with various projects that aren't important enough to warrant lab space or time. It's not the most thrilling way to spend a Friday night, but the eighteen year-old, for all of his outward gregariousness, is perfectly happy to have quiet nights to himself. Uninterrupted free time is one of the things about the City that he has come to appreciate. On a ship, there's no real way to escape shipmates or the odd emergency.

Everett, a scruffy, medium-sized mutt, runs to the door and barks as soon as Uhura knocks. Chekov abandons the former microwave that he's been trying to turn into a simple replicator, whistles to call the dog off, and opens the door.

"Nyota, hello," he says, surprised but polite. Everett trots out of the cottage to inspect the stranger, tail wagging. "May I help you with something?"

[phonetical]

A wagging tail is a good sign that she is safe to hold her hand out so the dog can sniff it. Even her diplomatic nature extends to animals, letting them feel as comfortable as possible as first contact.

"Actually, yeah, you can, but..." She holds up a plastic bag in her hand and the movement makes the two glass bottles inside it clink together. "I brought a taste of home."

She peers over his shoulder, just in case Lucy is in there with him. Seeing nothing and knowing there are other rooms in the house that she can't see, Nyota turns back to him and asks, "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

[candothat]

Everett sniffs Uhura's outstretched fingers. She passes inspection; the dog licks her hand before sitting at her feet, looking up at her expectantly.

"What is that?" Not that Chekov is going to turn away company and alcohol, especially if it's something exciting."Nothing that you borrowed from the doctor, I hope. I mistrust his judgment where alcohol is concerned, mostly."

Whiskey, honestly.

The cottage is unoccupied now that its two tenants are at the door. It might look small on the outside, but the inside is expansive; the door opens into a spacious living room that, now that Chekov isn't sharing the space with anyone who isn't a dog, is mostly occupied by junk of the technological variety, schematics for things that he'll never be able to build in the City, and more-or-less accurate starmaps drawn from memory (although there are no maps of the sky as seen from Earth). The couch and coffee table are, miraculously, uncovered, and the kitchen beyond is surprisingly tidy. A curio cabinet occupies the opposite wall of the living room. It holds books--thick texts on twenty-first century physics, for the most part--and antique navigational devices that Chekov has picked up over time: a large, elaborate astrolabe next to a GPS device, a backstaff, and a few different planispheres. There's a hall to the left and a staircase that goes up to a second story on the right.

Junk aside (and even that is organized in a haphazard way), what is visible of the cottage is remarkably well-kept.

Chekov waves Uhura in. "No, no... you aren't interrupting. Come in, please."

[phonetical]

"I said a taste of home. Your home." It's vodka and orange juice in the bag. She refuses to touch anything McCoy drinks because he's hardcore and no. Just no. She likes her liver in the condition it is now.

With Everett giving her actual puppy eyes, she scritches him behind the ear before apologizing. "Sorry, boy. Nothing for you. Next time." Because there will be a next time, no matter what happens.

She enters the house, giving it a quick glance around and noticing the controlled layout of the room. Uhura's impressed; most eighteen year old boys she knew figured that each inch of the room needed to be filled with junk.

"Where's your girlfriend... Lucy?"

[candothat]

His smile brightens, not because Uhura has brought vodka--he has made a point of not drinking much in the City, and he can always visit Isaak and get a free drink should he want it--but because Uhura is the kind of person who would bring vodka, knowing that it's his drink of choice almost solely because it's Russian.

Everett leans into Uhura's hand, tail audibly thumping behind him. He follows at Uhura's heels as she enters the home, perhaps convinced that she'll give him a treat if he waits long enough. Chekov shuts the door behind them.

"I think Lucy is out with friends." Pure speculation, but she isn't the sort of person to sit around quietly on a Friday night. Pavel doesn't get the appeal of the clubs that she likes to go to, just like she doesn't get the appeal of working out mathematical equations that might prove nothing at all or tinkering with relics of the twenty-first century. "You may sit, if you like."

Meanwhile, he'll stand around with his hands in his pockets and not know what to do. It's awkward. This was Uhura's home for nearly eight months and now she doesn't remember anything about it.