I don't own Star Trek
(So, accidental-anomely... I think that is your name. It's late at night, and I'm sorry if that's not correct...wrote a wonderful little story for me...called Stupider. Though I hope the kids I work with don't act like Kirk and Spock, I am still insanely thankful. She also wrote two wonderful stories called Sand Storm and War. If you have not read these stories yet read them. You know you want to. So anyway, in War Chekov and Kirk plot together quite nicely. I believe the two would make very good evil little kids...and in honor of that, I give you:)
Cause Sharing Is Good
Chekov was four years old when he first met the boy who later became his Captain. The boy was twelve years old and quite possibly the most interesting individual young Chekov knew of, for a brief span of an hour.
He later got to know the man quite well, through pranks and plans that never quite worked, but when he first met the kid Chekov did not exactly enjoy his company. Until they got to know each other.
His mother had left him at a small daycare inside of the building where she was conversing with representatives from all over the universe. Chekov was quite annoyed at this haphazardly made daycare. Whoever had made it had simply grabbed pillows, paper, and crayons and dumped them in the room. Much like the parents had dumped their children there. However, on this day there was only one other kid in the room with Chekov. As the four year old made his way over to the crayons, the larger boy had rushed over and took them all.
"Vhat are you doing?" Chekov had said in an adorably annoyed voice, that only little kids can manage.
"These are mine!" the larger boy had said. " and 'vhat' is up with your voice?"
"I am from Russia. I hawe an accent." Chekov said. "I think you should share those. Cause sharing is good."
Kirk cocked his head at the little kid. "Well, since I'm twelve and you're not, I figure that everything in here is mine cause I'm bigger. But I guess you could have a few." he said dropping a lot of the crayons in front of Chekov. "So how old are you?"
"I am four. But I vill be going into first grade in six months." Chekov said as he began coloring a picture.
"Wow. Are you one of those child genius things? I met one last time I was here. But he had pointy ears. And he was scared of rain storms and thunder. And he was green!"
Chekov's eyes widened when he heard about this. "He was green?! Was he an alien?"
"Kind of. He wasn't like completely green. But you know how me and you if we blush or get hot or something our skin looks pink...er...red? He was green! "
"Do you some here a lot?" Chekov said. It would be really boring if he would've had to come all the time. Unless this boy was here. He was very interesting.
"I didn't really for along time. I live in Iowa, but my mom has this stupid boyfriend, and me and him don't get along, so my mom has me come with her a lot more. I stole his car to once. I didn't get very far, but it was really fun!"
The rest of the time was spent talking about what both boys had done and how much trouble they had gotten into. Chekov would interest the boy when he talked about the multiple times he blew up the house, and the twelve year old would talk about all the stuff he had stolen. Before either of them knew it Chekov was having to leave with his mother.
Neither of them caught the others name, and no one gave something to the other, except sharing.
When the two of them met again thirteen years later, and worked together trying to prank people, it was hard to believe that these two hadn't known each other for years.
Then again, in some ways, they had.
(I know, it's an incredibly short one-shot, but admit it, it was a little cute. Or don't either way, feel free to leave some reviews. Or say something that will inspire to write some more of these cute little one-shots. Maybe something with Sulu. Or Scotty.)