For Great Science
May. 20th, 2010 03:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imasupermuteantTitle: For Great Science
Fandoms: Star Trek XI, Kingdom Hearts
Pairing: Pavel Chekov/Donald Duck (you heard me)
Rating: PG
Summary: Two worlds meet, and there is alcohol to be had.
Wordcount: 1315
Note: This was written for the "Walk into a bar" challenge but was never finished because I had finals.
Extended Author's Note: So when I put my name down for this challenge I figured that there was no crack pairing for which I would not write smut. Not a one, I told myself. After all, I ship Chekov with everyone and *everything*. So there will be no problem, right?
As I was writing down my fandom selections my girlfriend looked over my should and said, "Don't put Kingdom Hearts down, she'll give you Mickey or Goofy or something."
"She would never do that!" I said, "That would be cruel."
And then I got Donald.
So here is the result. I didn't write the smut. I'm so very sorry.
Pavel Andreievich Chekov (and assorted redshirts) beamed down to a bar. Chekov hadn't known exactly what to expect when they arrived, since something about the planet's core disrupted their sensors to the point that Scotty had only barely been sure he was beaming Chekov into an open space.
A bar... that was unexpected, but not necessarily bad. Chekov's mission was, after all, to gather information on the local culture and attitudes before reporting back to the ship. A local dive was just the place to do some serious cultural learning and, judging from the clientele, the drinking age must be low to non-existent.
What this meant for Pavel was that his away mission just got ten times more interesting.
Throwing a grin to Lieutenant Gateaux and the rest of the away mission, Pavel headed for the bar. It was being tended by a huge pair of brea-- a very nice looking woman who seemed plenty interested in answering Chekov's questions.
"You must be from another world," She mused when he informed her of his ignorance of the local monetary system.
"Err... Yes?" Chekov admitted. While it had been clear that the inhabitants of this planet possessed rudimentary warp technology, Chekov had been unsure as to whether they were aware of other sentient life.
She graced him with a pitying look that he really didn't understand and reached under the bar, "Well, until you get a few munny in your pocket, this is on the house."
She slid him a drink that, upon tasting, reminded Chekov a little of coffee and a little of chocolate milk. The warm sting of the alcohol didn't hit him until after he had swallowed, spreading across his chest in a way that made him glad to be there at all.
An angry sigh to the right drew Chekov's attention to the seat beside him, but there was no one there. His eyes drifted lower, and lower, to rest on...
...a duck. A duck wearing a floppy magicians hat and holding a staff and ordering a shot of something Chekov had never heard of with a gloomy look on his... beak.
Remembering his mission parameters ("Look around, get a feel for the place, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Spock's eyebrow had risen so high at the captain's words that Chekov thought it might have developed an anti-grav matrix), Chekov decided to seize the opportunity to Meet New Life.
Maybe the new life he was meeting would buy him another drink.
"Hello." Chekov said with his friendliest smile (and boy he hoped that smiles were still smiles in this culture) and a little wave.
"Hi." The duck said, looking him over slowly.
"I'm from... Off-world." Chekov said, trying to imitate the phrase used by the bartender just moments before, "My name is Chekov. Pavel. Err... Pavel Chekov."
Slick. After spending the last year and a half on the Enterprise (where only Sulu called him Pavel) he sometimes felt as if he didn't have a first name at all. He felt himself blush a little at the mistake.
"His name is Donald," said the bartender, leaning over on one elbow in front of them so that her breasts were prominently on display. "And he's very nice to strangers."
"Hi." Donald said, knocking back his drink with an ease that would rival that of any Russian.
There was a cough from the bartender. Donald rolled his eyes at her, but turned his full attention to Chekov.
"Welcome to Radiant Garden." Donald told him with little enthusiasm, "How are you liking it here?" Chekov's universal translator cracked in his ear as it attempted to compensate for an obvious speech impediment, he rubbed at it briefly before grinning at his new acquaintance.
"I have not seen much of it yet." Chekov admitted, "But it seems very nice here! And the drinks are good." He gestured to the nearly empty glass at his hand.
Donald took the hint and gave a nod to the bartender, who slid Chekov another of the same drink with a wink and a smile.
"All the people I've met so far have been... Fascinating." Chekov grinned, hoping he wasn't being too heavy-handed with the flattery. He really didn't mean to flirt with the anthropomorphic duck, but it was a policy of his to always be friendly.
Donald smiled a little, obviously not over whatever had drawn him to mope about the bar in the first place.
"What brings you here then?" Chekov asked, finding himself genuinely interested.
"I work for King Mickey." Donald told him with a proud puffing of his chest-feathers, "I've been boosting the town defense system."
"Boosting?" Chekov asked, "You are engineer?"
"A Magician!" Donald corrected him, "I'm much better at offensive magic, but then some other people got to go on the exciting missions."
"Don't listen to him," The bartender told him playfully. "He just doesn't like having to hang around without his friends here to keep him cheerful."
"Shut up Tifa." Donald growled.
"You shut up." Tifa said just as cheerfully, "And buy the cute boy another drink."
Donald blushed and Chekov gave him a forgiving smile "I think I am just fine with this." He told her, lifting his half-full glass. The bartender grinned at the two of them and moved to tend to another pair of customers at the end of the bar.
"Don't listen to her!" Donald spluttered, his voice distorting even more with his distress as he waved his hands in the air.
"Is fine!" Chekov told him, "Flattering."
"Aww, shucks." Donald said, kicking his feet which were much, much too short for the tall stool on which he sat.
"Tell my about your defense system." Chekov requested, finding himself genuinely interested.
What followed was a long and involved mechanical discussion, most of which Chekov could follow. Except for the parts which included 'magic points' and 'power of heart'. Eventually they got to talking about ships, and Chekov managed to lure Donald into an involved debate over the usefulness of warp power as opposed to moonbeams and happiness or whatever the fuck else their candy ships ran on.
"So it is made of gummy bears..." Chekov began.
"Gummi blocks." said Donald for the fifth time.
"And is powered by love and joy..."
"That." Donald told him, "and fuel."
"And is navigated how?"
"I have no idea! Sora steers the thing." Donald grumbled.
"Maybe the gummy bears help." He mused.
Donald fell to sputtering in a way that was both charming and hilarious.
Chekov found himself smiling at Donald over his glass, even though the duck was, well a duck, he was still pretty cute. His feathers looked soft. Chekov could not believe he was thinking about this.
An awkward silence fell between them as they each took a drink and tried to pretend they weren't gazing into each others eyes.
"Do you... I mean... Do you wacccczzttphz?" Donald asked, falling into a completely incomprehensible stutter that Chekov found strangely endearing.
"What?" Chekov asked, his own accent coming to the fore and turning his 'w' into a sharp 'v'.
"Would you like to get a drink?" Donald asked, "I mean... Somewhere more private? I mean..."
"Somewhere like your home?" Chekov asked with a wry, lifted eyebrow.
Donald looked crestfallen, Chekov smiled, "I'd love to." He told the duck, who brightened up considerably.
"Great!" Donald finished his drink in one long swallow and jumped to the floor, his tail feathers bobbing.
Well, Chekov thought to himself as he was lead from the bar, going where no man has gone before, for great science and all that, right?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Twelve hours later Chekov was beamed back on to the Enterprise in a shower of feathers, his neck covered in strange marks and his hair thoroughly mussed.
"Eбать!" Chekov shouted as Scotty collapsed against the console, laughing hysterically. "He never told me he had a girlfriend!"
Fandoms: Star Trek XI, Kingdom Hearts
Pairing: Pavel Chekov/Donald Duck (you heard me)
Rating: PG
Summary: Two worlds meet, and there is alcohol to be had.
Wordcount: 1315
Note: This was written for the "Walk into a bar" challenge but was never finished because I had finals.
Extended Author's Note: So when I put my name down for this challenge I figured that there was no crack pairing for which I would not write smut. Not a one, I told myself. After all, I ship Chekov with everyone and *everything*. So there will be no problem, right?
As I was writing down my fandom selections my girlfriend looked over my should and said, "Don't put Kingdom Hearts down, she'll give you Mickey or Goofy or something."
"She would never do that!" I said, "That would be cruel."
And then I got Donald.
So here is the result. I didn't write the smut. I'm so very sorry.
Pavel Andreievich Chekov (and assorted redshirts) beamed down to a bar. Chekov hadn't known exactly what to expect when they arrived, since something about the planet's core disrupted their sensors to the point that Scotty had only barely been sure he was beaming Chekov into an open space.
A bar... that was unexpected, but not necessarily bad. Chekov's mission was, after all, to gather information on the local culture and attitudes before reporting back to the ship. A local dive was just the place to do some serious cultural learning and, judging from the clientele, the drinking age must be low to non-existent.
What this meant for Pavel was that his away mission just got ten times more interesting.
Throwing a grin to Lieutenant Gateaux and the rest of the away mission, Pavel headed for the bar. It was being tended by a huge pair of brea-- a very nice looking woman who seemed plenty interested in answering Chekov's questions.
"You must be from another world," She mused when he informed her of his ignorance of the local monetary system.
"Err... Yes?" Chekov admitted. While it had been clear that the inhabitants of this planet possessed rudimentary warp technology, Chekov had been unsure as to whether they were aware of other sentient life.
She graced him with a pitying look that he really didn't understand and reached under the bar, "Well, until you get a few munny in your pocket, this is on the house."
She slid him a drink that, upon tasting, reminded Chekov a little of coffee and a little of chocolate milk. The warm sting of the alcohol didn't hit him until after he had swallowed, spreading across his chest in a way that made him glad to be there at all.
An angry sigh to the right drew Chekov's attention to the seat beside him, but there was no one there. His eyes drifted lower, and lower, to rest on...
...a duck. A duck wearing a floppy magicians hat and holding a staff and ordering a shot of something Chekov had never heard of with a gloomy look on his... beak.
Remembering his mission parameters ("Look around, get a feel for the place, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Spock's eyebrow had risen so high at the captain's words that Chekov thought it might have developed an anti-grav matrix), Chekov decided to seize the opportunity to Meet New Life.
Maybe the new life he was meeting would buy him another drink.
"Hello." Chekov said with his friendliest smile (and boy he hoped that smiles were still smiles in this culture) and a little wave.
"Hi." The duck said, looking him over slowly.
"I'm from... Off-world." Chekov said, trying to imitate the phrase used by the bartender just moments before, "My name is Chekov. Pavel. Err... Pavel Chekov."
Slick. After spending the last year and a half on the Enterprise (where only Sulu called him Pavel) he sometimes felt as if he didn't have a first name at all. He felt himself blush a little at the mistake.
"His name is Donald," said the bartender, leaning over on one elbow in front of them so that her breasts were prominently on display. "And he's very nice to strangers."
"Hi." Donald said, knocking back his drink with an ease that would rival that of any Russian.
There was a cough from the bartender. Donald rolled his eyes at her, but turned his full attention to Chekov.
"Welcome to Radiant Garden." Donald told him with little enthusiasm, "How are you liking it here?" Chekov's universal translator cracked in his ear as it attempted to compensate for an obvious speech impediment, he rubbed at it briefly before grinning at his new acquaintance.
"I have not seen much of it yet." Chekov admitted, "But it seems very nice here! And the drinks are good." He gestured to the nearly empty glass at his hand.
Donald took the hint and gave a nod to the bartender, who slid Chekov another of the same drink with a wink and a smile.
"All the people I've met so far have been... Fascinating." Chekov grinned, hoping he wasn't being too heavy-handed with the flattery. He really didn't mean to flirt with the anthropomorphic duck, but it was a policy of his to always be friendly.
Donald smiled a little, obviously not over whatever had drawn him to mope about the bar in the first place.
"What brings you here then?" Chekov asked, finding himself genuinely interested.
"I work for King Mickey." Donald told him with a proud puffing of his chest-feathers, "I've been boosting the town defense system."
"Boosting?" Chekov asked, "You are engineer?"
"A Magician!" Donald corrected him, "I'm much better at offensive magic, but then some other people got to go on the exciting missions."
"Don't listen to him," The bartender told him playfully. "He just doesn't like having to hang around without his friends here to keep him cheerful."
"Shut up Tifa." Donald growled.
"You shut up." Tifa said just as cheerfully, "And buy the cute boy another drink."
Donald blushed and Chekov gave him a forgiving smile "I think I am just fine with this." He told her, lifting his half-full glass. The bartender grinned at the two of them and moved to tend to another pair of customers at the end of the bar.
"Don't listen to her!" Donald spluttered, his voice distorting even more with his distress as he waved his hands in the air.
"Is fine!" Chekov told him, "Flattering."
"Aww, shucks." Donald said, kicking his feet which were much, much too short for the tall stool on which he sat.
"Tell my about your defense system." Chekov requested, finding himself genuinely interested.
What followed was a long and involved mechanical discussion, most of which Chekov could follow. Except for the parts which included 'magic points' and 'power of heart'. Eventually they got to talking about ships, and Chekov managed to lure Donald into an involved debate over the usefulness of warp power as opposed to moonbeams and happiness or whatever the fuck else their candy ships ran on.
"So it is made of gummy bears..." Chekov began.
"Gummi blocks." said Donald for the fifth time.
"And is powered by love and joy..."
"That." Donald told him, "and fuel."
"And is navigated how?"
"I have no idea! Sora steers the thing." Donald grumbled.
"Maybe the gummy bears help." He mused.
Donald fell to sputtering in a way that was both charming and hilarious.
Chekov found himself smiling at Donald over his glass, even though the duck was, well a duck, he was still pretty cute. His feathers looked soft. Chekov could not believe he was thinking about this.
An awkward silence fell between them as they each took a drink and tried to pretend they weren't gazing into each others eyes.
"Do you... I mean... Do you wacccczzttphz?" Donald asked, falling into a completely incomprehensible stutter that Chekov found strangely endearing.
"What?" Chekov asked, his own accent coming to the fore and turning his 'w' into a sharp 'v'.
"Would you like to get a drink?" Donald asked, "I mean... Somewhere more private? I mean..."
"Somewhere like your home?" Chekov asked with a wry, lifted eyebrow.
Donald looked crestfallen, Chekov smiled, "I'd love to." He told the duck, who brightened up considerably.
"Great!" Donald finished his drink in one long swallow and jumped to the floor, his tail feathers bobbing.
Well, Chekov thought to himself as he was lead from the bar, going where no man has gone before, for great science and all that, right?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Twelve hours later Chekov was beamed back on to the Enterprise in a shower of feathers, his neck covered in strange marks and his hair thoroughly mussed.
"Eбать!" Chekov shouted as Scotty collapsed against the console, laughing hysterically. "He never told me he had a girlfriend!"
no subject
on 2010-05-20 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-05-21 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-05-21 08:23 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-05-21 09:46 pm (UTC)