Chekov's Desperate 'Do
By: Danielle Cregan
Disclaimer: Paramount owns, I'm just playing with them, I promise I won't tear the pages or spill anything on them. The only thing I'm getting out of this is...well, nothing.
Author's Note: Feedback is very much appreciated. I am new at the humor bit, so any constructive criticism is welcome. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Send comments to [email protected]
Nyota Uhura was a patient woman, no doubt about it. However, her patience was stretching thin. She watched the nervously pacing figure in her room for a few seconds longer, then pounced and pushed the offending pacer onto her bed. She began a furious barrage of tickles, unmercifully aiming at her opponent's vulnerable sides.
"Stoppit! Hee hee....Nyota, I'm serious, heehee, knock it off!" Pavel Chekov begged, trying to grab his friend's hands. "Hikaru, help!" The addressed lieutenant stood near the door, shaking his head.
"Come on, it's not like we're trying to torture you, it's just a haircut." A devilish gleam lit the dark brown eyes. "I'll just have to hold you while she tickles." The Russian gasped and giggled, holding his hands over his brown hair.
"I...do not need...a...hee, eep! A haircut!" he choked out. He pinned Nyota's hands. "Vy do you think I need a haircut? I'm perfectly happy vith my hair like this." The dark-skinned woman frowned at him.
"Pavel, I am taking this as an insult. Don't you trust me to be able to give you a decent 'do?" She stood up, continuing, "Who do you think cut Hikaru's hair like that? Anyway, you can barely see through your bangs. Do you know what they call you down in Engine-" She noticed the slender Asian making a slashing motion across his throat.
"No, tell me, vhat do they call me?" Pavel sat up, not quite smiling. "Nyota...?" She looked away hastily, mouthing 'Oops'. "Hikaru?"
"Um, I think I'm due on the bridge now." He inched towards the door, running a nervous hand through his black hair. "Yes, I'm sure I'm on duty soon. I'll, uh, see you later?" he waffled, almost making it to the door before tripping over a stray boot and collapsing. "Ow! What the...?" Pavel stalked over to his fallen friend, leaving Nyota to suppress a chuckle. He pulled the now red-faced helmsman to his feet.
"Nice try, but ve're on Alpha shift this veek. Let's make a deal, da? You tell me, I let you chop my hair any vay you vant." He sighed melodramatically. "It is a lot to pay for a little gossip, but..." Hikaru and Nyota exchanged a questioning gaze and a half. She shrugged.
"All right, but...you have to promise not to hurt me after I tell you, okay?" Hikaru asked, only half joking. Pavel agreed readily, wondering why his friends were so apprehensive. He could handle a few insulting nicknames. "Hey, Nyota, think we should restrain him to make good on that?"
"Hmm...Nah. Leave the poor boy alone...for now," she grinned. Tying a plastic cape around the victim's neck, she bade him sit back on the bed, and pulled her tools of torture closer. "Go ahead, tell him," she urged after a scathing twenty-three point eight seconds of silence.
"Okay, okay!" The almond-shaped eyes rolled in annoyance. "I need to remember all of them. Um, down in Engineering, they're calling you 'The tribble-toupeed wonder', in History and Records you're 'the 1960's Monkee's wannabe', in most of Sciences you're 'the amazing physics-defying HairMan', except for botany. They've deemed you a Terra-type pansy. However," he added hastily, noting his friend's eyes narrowing dangerously, "you've got a fan club in Sickbay. Unfortunately, they aren't all girls," he concluded with a decidedly evil laugh. "You hairdo has got admirers-from-afar confused. I'm afraid you're breaking Nurse Matt Karounis' heart by getting a cut."
"Hmph. A tribble-toupeed vonder, you say? And who, may I ask, said this?" Pavel asked, voice deceptively calm.
"I think a better question would be, who hasn't said it. And that is a little hard to answer. But who started it is easy. Remember Mishka Frril?" Pavel nodded, he had dated the Merrow briefly, but her mouse fetish and catnip smoking scared him off. "She started it in Engineering. Kaliyana Trillnye started it in H and R, various girls teamed up for the Sciences, but the botany was actually partly Hikaru's fault." Nyota smirked slightly and kept cutting. "He used that as an insult a lot when he was in astrophysics. Tr'shne Hal'mag picked it up and recycled it."
"I see. I did not realize getting dumped left such harsh reminders." The young ensign shrugged. "It's like I never left high school, the vay rumors fly. It is wery unpleasant." Nyota dropped the scissors and stepped back. Hikaru tilted his head to one side, then another, gazing curiously at Pavel's head.
"Nyota, it is....perfect! You look, um, great, Pav!" he announced, looking like he was trying to hold back a laugh. Nyota ran a brush through Pavel's hair, then whisked off the cape and grinned.
"Well, how do you feel?" she asked lightly. He tentatively felt his now-short hair.
"Lighter. I vould like to see it, though..." His turn brought him face to face with a mirror. Very close to his head, brushed forward, bangs about midway down his forehead... He startled back. "Vat did you do to my hair?!" he moaned, appalled. "I look like...like a Russian Mr. Spock!"
"Should we give him the certificate for Doc McCoy's plastic surgery ears now, or later?" Hikaru whispered to Nyota with barely restrained laughter in his voice. She merely quirked an eyebrow at him and shrugged.
"You did get him on the tricorder saying 'Any way you want', right?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*Fin*~*~*~*~*~*~
I hope you liked it! Peace and long life. _\\//