Chapter Title: In Which Leonard Hates Himself A Little More (Than Usual)
Beta: likethdirection
A/N: Again, you can all thank likethdirection over on LJ for this chapter. She truly inspires me and helps me get over my ridiculous blocks. She also gave me an amazing idea for the start of chapter 9... I can't wait to write that, so I'll try to get chapter eight out soon!
Leonard rarely had reason to actually go into Jim's Ready Room, but every time he did, he just walked right in. Jim never locked his door unless there was personal or seriously high security shit going down. And every time he entered, Leonard was amazed by how professional and important Jim managed to look.
Like other times, his desk was covered with PADDs requiring his attention, but this time, Jim was turned to the vid screen, not even glancing at Leonard as he finished his call.
"-ank you again, Commodore. I really appreciate this. And I'm sorry we're leaving behind such a mess." He had his polite work-smile on, but Len could see the tension around his eyes.
"I'm happy to help, Captain. And it's been a while since I got to bring anyone up on charges other than drunk and disorderly." Ah, Commodore Harkness from the station they were at. Leonard definitely recognized that voice, a baritone belonging to man far too young for his position, but more than qualified - much like the man sitting at the captain's desk.
And the commodore had a way of putting his favorite people at ease and Leonard could hear the tension seep just a little out of Jim's voice as his smile grew a little more real - and a little more wicked. "Well, if they give you any trouble, just remind them how lucky they are that I'm not dealing with them personally."
"Will do, Captain," the commodore laughed. "Smooth sailing to you."
"Thank you, sir. Kirk out."
"Please tell me you have good news." With how annoyed and tired the poor kid looked, Leonard almost wanted to soften the blow a little - but then again, he'd had a bad day, too.
"When have I ever come in here with good news?" Good news was more of a Jim's quarters thing than a Captain's Ready Room thing. Jim sighed and slumped back in his chair.
"Well, a man can hope." He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out another sigh. "It's just- This has been such a bitch. I mean, seriously, after all the shit they've put me through they have the balls to do this?" Leonard heaved his own sigh. This was obviously something that Jim needed to vent about, and if the captain couldn't vent to his best friend and physician, who could he?
"Who's 'they'?"
"Fuckin' Azimio, Brand, and Terence." Ah... The nurses had nicknamed them 'The Bad Touch Trio' and Leonard knew that Jim got more complaints about them than about anyone else. Many of them were minor, some of them were dropped, but mostly they'd resulted in being skipped over promotion. In all three cases, the only reasons Jim hadn't booted them yet was because they were damn good at their jobs.
"What the hell did they do now?" Len really hoped this didn't mean he needed to head back to Sickbay.
"Did you know it's Yom Kippur?"
"What now?" It sounded familiar, but Leonard couldn't remember what the hell it was. Or why it was relevant.
"It's one of the Jewish High Holy Days. Anyway, apparently there's a temple on the station and Sadira - you know her, right?" Jim didn't even pause for an answer - he already knew who Leonard knew by name and who he didn't. Leonard sometimes even wondered why Jim asked that kind of question. But what did Ensign David have to do with all of this? A thought started niggling at the back of Leonard's mind as Jim continued.
"Anyway, those three idiots were walking along the Promenade and saw her there - and they've harassed her before. She never let me take the charges farther than a reprimand, which I will never understand. I mean, she's so pretty and tiny, I'm not surprised that she's a target, and I know she doesn't like attention and all, but I really wanted to throw their asses in the brig for a couple of those."
Leonard didn't know how or why, but Jim and several other members of the crew were complete softies when it came to Sadira. She was young and her looks and her quiet demeanor made her look even younger, but protocol was protocol, damn it. Those three should've been written up each time. Spock had even bitched (as much as Spock ever "bitched") to him once about Ensign David insisting on letting it slide. She just hated having a fuss made over her, is all, and Leonard thought it was bullshit.
"Well, they started crowding her and mouthing off, and according to some witnesses, it got pretty suggestive. But I guess they didn't expect Chekov to really stand up for her, which is astoundingly stupid, even for them-"
"Chekov was there?" Jim looked at him like he'd just asked if Earth's sky was blue.
"Uh, yeah. Chekov's Jewish; they were headed there together. Didn't you know that?"
Leonard paled and dropped into a visitor's chair in front of Jim's desk.
"He went up against those three?" How the hell did he look so good? Those guys were built like linebackers and as vicious as a pack of pitbulls. Leonard had patched up victims from a few fights with them before. How was Chekov not bleeding on the floor, missing teeth, limbs bent at odd angles? He was tiny compared to them! Leonard didn't know if he should be even more worried about Chekov's ribs or if he should be pissed off at him for being dumb enough to try to take on those mammoths.
"Of course he did! Sadira's been picked on enough, and it's even worse that they were headed to a religious ceremony!" Jim was really getting into his story-telling, gesturing and getting an excited look on his face - they must have been getting to whatever Jim thought was the climax. "And you know what kind of mouth Chekov has on him when he's angry-" Well, he hadn't known before but he certainly did now.
"Anyway, he apparently says something that really pisses Azimio off and the dumbass threw a punch - at a superior officer, no less!"
Well, today was just full of insubordination, now, wasn't it? "Wait, Azimio threw the first punch?"
Jim actually laughed, a grin spreading across his face. "He totally missed! I saw the security tapes! Chekov's like a fuckin' ninja, Bones! Guy's a total badass and I never knew." He was leaning forward in his chair now to rest his elbows on his desk. "I mean, he kicked their asses! I know that I shouldn't condone fighting or reward Chekov for winning, but holy shit! It was amazing!"
In the midst of Jim's continued fangirling, he offered to let Leonard see the video of the fight, not really listening when Len said he didn't want to see them and pulling up the footage anyway.
The cameras on the promenade had managed to get a remarkably good view of the area in which the fight occurred. Jim had skipped to the part where Chekov intervened, opening on the sight of Chekov squared off against Azimio, a good six inches shorter than each of his opponents, but glaring up at them like they were dirt under his polished dress shoes.
"Step away, Azimio."
David tried to grab Chekov's arm in an attempt to pull him away from her assailants. "Pasha, d-" He shrugged her off as gently as he could and kept his eyes on the three in front of him.
"Aw..." Azimio chuckled, glancing back at his goon squad before leaning in a little, continuing in a baby voice that made Leonard want to slap the British accent right out of him. "Is ickle Pasha going to try to protect his pwecious girlfriend?"
"You have no right to call me that, Azimio. Now step away." Really, no one should be able to seem that intimidating when facing down three men who were as broad as silver-back gorillas. The camera gave a good view of the tilt to Chekov's raised chin and the glint in his eye and he stared Azimio down.
"And if I don't?" Azimio straightened to his full height, chest puffed out, trying to seem frightening when Chekov just looked annoyed. Leonard could see Chekov's jaw clench - much like it had in Sickbay when he'd apparently been trying to refrain from ripping Len a new one - as he glanced to the side towards Sadira. He took a breath and grabbed her hand, trying to go around the trio, having obviously decided that avoidance was the best strategy at this point. Those idiot behemoths simply side-stepped, blocking the pair's path completely.
"We just wanted to have a little fun." Sweet Jesus, could Brand possibly sound like more of a creeper? If Jim's commentary was any indication, he would've written his ass up just for that if Starfleet would've let him.
"Yeah, show her a good time." Those two sounded like they were going to pick the poor girl up and shove her in the back of a sketchy, windowless van! No wonder the girl had been even more twitchy than usual in Sickbay. Leonard could feel the guilt building in his gut.
Chekov was surrounded. He had Sadira protected behind him, Azimio in front, and Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dipshit on either side. "Let us pass. We have somewhere to be." The camera just caught a glimpse of his free hand, clenched into a fist at his side.
"Oh. Have you got reservations somewhere nice?" When Azimio leaned in, Chekov perceptively leaned back, nose crinkling in a way that Leonard shouldn't have found adorable, especially when he was about to beat someone's face in. "Gonna hold hands? Maybe even kiss her goodnight? Have her home by curfew? Kids like you should just step aside and let a real man take her out. I mean, really, how much fun can she have with someone whose balls haven't even dropped yet?"
On the screen, Chekov's face turned red and when Leonard caught Jim's glance at him and his following (thankfully comment-less) smirk, Leonard was pretty sure that his own face matched.
"You'll watch your mouth, Azimio. Especially in front of Sadira. Today is not the day to push me." Chekov let go of Sadira's hand in favor of guiding her further away from the tense situation so that she couldn't hear what was being said and taking half a step towards the man that he looked like he wanted to pummel.
"Aw... Come on, Pasha. Didn't your mama teach you to share? I'll make sure to take care of her. I'll treat her real nice." Azimio leaned forward, resting his arm on Chekov's shoulder, and though Jim had told him that Chekov hadn't thrown the first punch, Leonard still half expected him to deck Azimio when the larger man whispered something in his ear that the camera couldn't catch. His skin drained from red to white and his frame tensed as Azimio leaned back slightly, elbow still resting on Chekov's shoulder, hand dangling behind his back. Leonard raised an eyebrow at Jim, but the only answer he got was that neither of them had been willing to repeat whatever had been said. "Think she'd like that?"
"I think she'd like a no-class, uneducated, unwashed miscreant like you who doesn't understand the meaning of even the simplest instruction to step away to leave us alone before I have to knock you on your ass, crewman." Chekov's accented tenor was as cold as ice and Leonard thought he saw Azimio shiver as he removed his arm from Chekov's shoulder and took a step back. Brand and Terence followed suit and Leonard didn't miss the uncertain glance they gave their leader. They may be idiots and they may be off-duty, but they were still Chekov's subordinates and they knew it. Leonard had only a second to wonder if they had to be drunk to do something so stupid when Azimio spit out his comeback.
"You may be a lieutenant, but you're still nothing more than a fucking little boy." Fuck. That explained a lot. The guilt that had been growing in Leonard's gut trembled and expanded. Jesus, Jocelyn was right - he really was a jackass. "I beat your ass before and I can do it again."
"That was five years ago." Azimio beat him up with he was only fourteen? Surely that was on record somewhere! Why the hell had the two been posted to the same assignment? His shocked look at Jim only got him a shrug as he turned back to the screen.
Chekov stepped forward again, managing to loom in the presence of three men who were all over six-foot-three. Leonard actually shivered as a smile worked its way onto the young man's face. It was wicked and sharp, looking like a predator baring his teeth. It was also far more attractive than anything that unnerving should be.
Chekov's next words were practically a snarl. "Now? I'd like to see you try."
Azimio looked hesitant and pulled away - the smartest thing he'd probably ever done in his life - until Chekov adds in a louder voice, "You're nothing more than a schoolyard bully - never to amount to anything and afraid of getting beaten by the little boy who will always be better than you." Leonard had never heard Chekov taunt anyone before and he honestly never wanted to hear it again. It just wasn't right coming from someone normally so sincere and kind. "Admit it, Azimio. I may be smaller than you, but you're just jealous that you will never measure up to the man that I've already become and that you can't even hope to be."
Azimio turned bright red and swung. The fight began in earnest.
It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Chekov moved with a grace and fluidity that Leonard had never seen in a fight before - and thanks to Jim, Leonard had seen a lot of fights. From the second the young man twisted to the side, gripping the fist that flew past him, using its momentum to pull his attacker off balance and send him flying into a nearby stand selling religious icons, it was like watching a ballet - a very violent ballet. As Terence and Brand rushed him, every one of Chekov's strikes was sharp and exact, every bend and dodge was smooth and elegant. Not one of the hits that he couldn't evade fazed him and he used every possible movement to his advantage. Even the punch to the eye he used, the force propelling him around and allowing him to land a kick to Brand's chest that finally knocked him to the ground.
Leonard's heart climbed into his throat as he saw Azimio stand back up and rush Chekov from behind as he landed an elbow into Terence's neck and one to his gut, finally knocking him out of the fight as well as a kick to the knee sent him to the ground to writhe in pain with his friend.
He felt like he was going to be sick as he watched Azimio slam into the smaller figure, knocking them both into the fence surrounding an "open-air" eating area.
His fingernails cut small crescents into his palms as Chekov slumped to the ground clutching his side before climbing to his feet and facing off against the larger man, looking like nothing was wrong except breathing more heavily - bruised ribs, possible fractures - and hunched slightly - bruised cartilage, definite inflammation and muscle spasms, Jesus, how was he still standing?
But not only was he standing, he was going on the offense, grabbing Azimio and twisting - which had to be excruciatingly painful on his ribs - and landing an elbow to his back before forcing him face down on the deck, arm around his throat and knee digging into his spine.
Jim had been right - it was amazing. It was merciless, and frightening, and unbelievably and inexplicably sexy.
As he watched the fight, he was reminded of the lean musculature he'd seen moving under pale skin, bending and twisting to music rather than responding to attacks. And now Leonard was seeing just what the muscle that Chekov hid underneath his command gold could actually do. He couldn't see the sweat beading on his skin, but he knew that it was there and knew how it would taste. Even watching such violence, his hands itched to feel that smooth skin and strong muscle shift under his palms and fingers again.
It was wildly inappropriate, but Leonard just couldn't bring himself to care. There was just something about seeing that side of Chekov - a side that he never let out, a side that he seemed to enjoy embracing, the dark side that lit up his eyes much like they'd been in the bar - it was intoxicating. And watching him protect someone and finally deal out the justice that those men had truly deserved - it warmed something in Leonard's chest even as heat rose to his face.
His breathing rate had increased as well, but as Jim finished up his commentary, Leonard could tell that he hadn't noticed. And Leonard made certain to have it mostly under control when Jim turned to him again, proud smile on his face as the screen returned to the Starfleet emblem.
"See? Fucking awesome." Awesome is such an understatement, Leonard's brain supplied as Jim leaned his elbows on the desk in front of him, finally back to business, seeming to remember that Leonard had come there on his own to tell him something. "Anyway, I'm sure that's not why you're here. What's up?" Apparently, news of the recent happenings in Sickbay had not reached Yeoman Rand - if they had, Jim would already know about it.
"Well, Chekov left before I could finish his exam, and when I comm'd him to get his ass back to Sickbay, he responded with a paragraph of Russian that I'm pretty sure I don't want the computer to translate and the words, 'Make me. Sir.' So here I am." He handed his PADD over to Jim, who skimmed through the Russian and let out a low whistle.
"Yeah, you don't wanna know. What the hell did you say to him?"
"Wait, you know Russian?"
"Enough to start a riot or get someone into my bed, yeah. I'm a genius, remember?" What a smartass. "Seriously, though, what did you say to him to piss him off this much?"
Leonard's voice was quiet, almost sounding guilty when he replied. "... I implied he was a kid. Again." Jim raised his eyebrows like that explained a few things, but not everything. "And I may have been rude-" Jim coughed. "Fine. I kicked one of his friends out of Sickbay and may have made her cry. Happy?"
Not to mention he may have pushed her straight into the waiting and comforting arms of the man he was currently in love with. Oh yes, Jim was the only genius in this room at the moment.
"No. I'm not the only one who can occasionally be a pain in the ass to his superiors." That was fair. "Who?"
"Sadira David."
"Oh. Fuck." Jim glanced down at the PADD in his hand one more time, wincing as he reread it in a new light. "Well, that explains some things."
Leonard just grunted an affirmative, clasping his hands behind his back and looking down at his shoes. He'd really shoved his foot in his mouth this time. To be fair, he hadn't really known he was doing it at the time, but still. He'd known age was a touchy subject for Chekov, especially lately for some reason from the sounds of the scuttlebutt in Sickbay. But he let his temper get away from him - again - and fucked things up with someone he cared about - again.
This was why relationships were a bad idea. Leonard wasn't even in a relationship this time and he'd still managed to screw himself over. It was just one more thing on the list of Reasons Why Leonard Should Give Up On His Sad Little Dreams.
"So... I'm right in assuming that Chekov walked out of his exam after your little comment?"
Len felt like a child in the principal's office and he almost scuffed his foot against the ground as he answered, "Well... And after a bit of yelling."
Jim let out a sigh, turning tired eyes up to look at his friend. "I'm going to hear about this later, aren't I?"
"Oh, yeah." At Leonard's response, Jim sighed again, glancing back at the text in front of him before tossing the PADD back to Len. He plastered a smirk back on his face and leaned back in his chair, oozing confidence that didn't really help the older man feel any better at the moment.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Bones."
Lord, if only it were that simple.
"You weren't there, Jim. You didn't hear him. I've never seen him like that." And he honestly didn't think that anyone in Sickbay - actually probably anyone other than Sulu, Nyota, or a few people back in Russia - had ever seen Chekov like that. Chekov usually let the problems that couldn't be fixed with his brilliance just roll off of him like water on a duck. He just didn't let himself get all worked up over things that he couldn't change or that just weren't his fault. Leonard certainly knew him well enough to know that. But this... This had been building for a while and the explosion had been both beautiful and terrifying.
"He was already wound up from the fight. He probably just needed to let off some more steam and you just happened to give him a reason." Jim just waved off his concerns, turning his attention back to the work covering his desk. "He'll cool down and things will go back to normal."
Leonard had never hoped more in his life that Jim was right.
