Short drabble.
"So, you've never played pool before, Chekov?" Captain Kirk asked, casually chalking his cue.
"Vell, a few timez, Keptain," the Russian protégé frowned, "I'm alright, I suppoze."
"It's just angles, Chekov. Let's play, I'll teach you." Jim said kindly, "Just put down a small wager."
"I'll right," he said uncertainly.
They were in a little bar in a seedy part of San Francisco, Kirk, McCoy, Chekov and Sulu. The lights were a little dim, the sides of the table had no spring to them and they cues were far too light.
"I'll break," Jim said, setting up the balls in alternating order, "You know the rules?"
"Oh, da, Keptain," Pavel nodded, "Thank you."
At the bar, McCoy and Sulu were involved in a heated debate with a group of Andorians about the medical properties of some plant or other. How they had gotten onto the subject was, like most of the terms they used, frankly beyond Jim's comprehension.
The white ball hit the perfect triangle with a sharp crack, sending solids and stripes streaking across the table. The number 2 ball meandered lazily into the middle left pocket.
"Well," Jim said, "I suppose I'm solids."
Pavel lost, which was not a surprise. The young Russian complained vehemently that if he could just hit the ball properly, he would have won.
"Play again?" Jim chuckled at Pavel's glower.
"Da, da, Keptain," He grumbled, "Double or nothing?"
"You got the money?"
"My Mama sends to me every month," he shrugged, "100 credits?"
"Alright..." Jim said, starting to get just a little suspicious. But, just as before, when Jim sunk the eight ball, Pavel still had four solids remaining.
The teen cursed in Russian and pouted.
"Another game?" Jim smirked.
"Vell... Alright, double again?"
"Double again."
And again, Pavel lost spectacularly. By this time McCoy and Sulu had joined them. The doctor was berating Jim for "cheating the poor kid" out of his money, while Sulu was busily trying to quash a smirk.
"Okay, last game," Jim was starting to feel bad about taking the ensign's money.
"Double again?" Pavel asked, and Jim missed the smirk in his voice.
"Of course." As always, Jim broke, but this time failed to sink a single ball.
Pavel was smiling slightly as he picked up his cue, "2, left corner."
And sunk it.
"One, right side."
"Five, right far corner."
"Seven, left side pocket."
"Three, left near corner."
"Six, left far corner."
"Four, Right Side pocket."
Jim stared. He had just been hustled by a seventeen year old nerd that was skinnier than the pool cue he was using. Perfect, impossible shots, that no one should be able to make, bouncing the ball against the sides, using other balls, even jumping the white ball over a stripe to hit his target.
And that tiny little smirk on angel's lips.
"Eight ball, right far corner," he whispered and knocked it in with a sharp crack, leaving the cue ball spinning in place.
"I believe I owe you 400 credits," Jim said in a choked voice.
"Never underestimate a Russian, Keptain," he laughed, "I was taught to play when I was only ten."
"It's okay Captain, he did it to me too." Sulu smiled.
"You play pool?"
"No, DDR," he said sourly, "and Super Mario."
"And 21," McCoy said just as bitterly. "Texas hold 'em."
"Gin Rummy, scrabble, connect four, chess, senhet, bowling, jenga..." Sulu trailed off.
"Scrabble?" Jim frowned, "how do you shark scrabble?"
"I hawe me vays, Keptain," Chekov chalked his cue, "Anybody vants anozer game?"
"Sure," McCoy muttered, "you can take my child support... but leave me the alimony."
"Oh, come on," he giggled, "I'll go easy..."
R&R?
