And let's begin. By the way, I would really recommend that Sergio Mendes song for anyone who likes Latin music. P.S., I have a feeling that in the next chapter, I'm going to need to go from Chekov's mind to Karrina's back and forth. I'll do my best make it pretty clear who's think what, though.

The Mess hall was pretty empty at lunch. This was most likely due to the fact that the Orion royalty was treating anyone who wanted to go to drinks at a popular Beta Zed bar (where they were currently docked and would be for the next 3 weeks, over seeing the reconstruction of the Tallirant war zone). How people could drink before lunch was a mystery to Chekov.

Because they were docked, breaks (including meals) were extended and people got 2 off days a week instead of lunch. They also were allowed to leave at 6:00 and do as they wished until 10:30, when the night shift would start. Only a few unfortunate crewmen were to stay behind on the ship.

Chekov sat with his usual group at lunch. He had only tossed a few perogies and a roll on his plate. He sat down at the table his friends always got; right by the dessert area. His friends may have been genetically older, but they acted like infants some times. None of the others were there yet, so he began to pick apart the roll. He was decidedly not hungry. He was too fixated on the fact that Karrina was in that total ass-hole's room. He knew it shouldn't bother him; after all, he was going to her room on her invitation for dinner (which was much more romantic than lunch). But, Chekov's mind was whirring faster than light. He was probably feeling her up right now. He had probably pulled out all the stops too; no scented candles – someone with that much experience wouldn't be so cliché – but it would smell warm like whatever aromatic (probably ordered-in) French food he was (pretending to be) cooking. He had taken the time to clean up and put out pictures of his "family" (which were most likely printed out from Google Platinum). He would have put on some mushy-chick flick he had never seen before, but would claim it was his favourite. He would have taken a rubber from his huge stock in the bathroom and put in his picket because he was a big enough prick to think –

WHAM! A tray was slammed down on the table and a babbling voice was piercing through Chekov's conscience. "Yo, dude, they actually have pizza today! I like, NEVER get any. I'm always too late." Ensign Jayden Cromler was 24 and what one might describe as "perpetually stoned", except that he had only ever smoked pot twice in his like (which was maybe all it took). He always spoke in an extremely unprofessional manner, and often referred to his superiors as "dude" or "bro". It wasn't a lack of respect. It was simply that he was a California boy raised in Hawaii. But, let it be known that there was NOTHING funnier than watching Commander Spock be called "dude" repeatedly when being given reports. The despising in his face was evident. He had given up attempting to correct him a long him ago.

"So, where have you been, man? I haven't seen you in like, ages." His floppy sandy-blonde hair fell in his face as he stuffed his mouth with pizza.

"Actually Jay, you saw me tow dayz ago. Ve ver eating lunch right here." He gestured to the table.

"Seriously bro? I really gotta write shit down." Jayden was always good for comic relief. He had finished on his first slice of pizza and began working on his second. This was another reason everyone thought he was a toker; he ate like a garbage compactor.

The roll was essentially carb-confetti by the time Sulu got there. He had loaded up his plate with probiotic yogurt, whole-wheat ham sandwiches and a small green salad with low-fat dressing. This also didn't help his 'I'm not gay' pleas. He only ate very healthy because his fencing training demanded peak physical condition. Chekov shook his head at Sulu's lunch and snickered.

"Maybe if you ate more like me, you wouldn't look so exhausted all the time." Sulu tsked. He and Jayden exchanged fist-pounds and "Howsitgoin'?"'s .

"Stop spewin' your-self help crap. Not every one needs to be a machine." The grizzly voice could only belong to Lt. Colin Braxton. You typical New England Patriot, he was only 5'6", but scared the majority of the people he met with the eye-patch he ported and the long pink scar that ran down the side of his face. People cam up with crazy rumors as to how he got the wounds, but a select few actually knew that he had got in a boating accident when he was 25. Now, a ripe age of 57, rather old for a Starfleet member, he just let people think what they wanted. Chekov secretly thought he liked being scary. He was preparing to retire in a few years. He just wanted a little while longer to live in his prime. He was funny when you got to know him. He would even take of his eye-patch at meals and let every one look at the empty socket. He thought this was hilarious. Everyone else begged to differ.

These were the four miss-fits. All branded in some way or another.

"So, Prince Charming, how was your date?" Sulu poked his friend in the arm.

"Dude, who did you tap?! Bettcha it was that smokin' nurse. She's like a cougar without the billions of dollars and the dead husbands. Righteous." Jayden started nodding his head while simultaneously mowing down on his fourth slice (where did the third go?!).

"I did not 'tap' anyone. I seemply accompanied Meez Zeklos on herrr graveyard corrridor patrrrol." Chekov looked down at his plate and strted to pull open his perogies.

"You should see this girl guys. She's 17 and damn fine! Chekov hit gold with that one."

"So,… she did touch your Johnson?" Jayden got that dazed look on his face that told you he wasn't getting it. He was actually really smart when it came to engineering, but that was where the intelligence bus kicked him off.

"NO! We had no sexual acts ov eny kind! I picked herrr up at herrr door. Ve vent to all ov ze dezignated check points. Ve chatted a little bit. Zen I dropped herrr off at herrr door. Zat is all." He looked up at the other three with what he hopped was a "conversation finished" expression.

No such luck.

"Geez, son, no need to fight. We just think it's about time you became a man. What's eating at you, anyway?" Braxton dug into his Sourdough bowl filled with clam chowder (figures).

"Charmont invited her to heez rrroom for lunch. He eez 'cooking' for herrr." He squished the tower of potato filling he had made with the insides of the perogies.

All of the other men looked apologetic. Jayden gave a low whistle.

"That's rough bro. Mad rough. He's gonna get her out of her clothes and totally just –" Braxton gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. Sulu shot him a "shut up or I'll kill you" look.

Sulu tried to think positively. "Okay, let's just say for a second that all they did was eat lunch. YOU have to be on the ball and get the next date. I suggest you find her later and have some idea of –"

"Vell, actually – " Chekov looked slightly embarrassed. "she invited me to herrr plaze so she ken mek dinnerrr for me."

"Well, there you go. She clearly likes you more, 'cause she invited you and not Charmont". Braxton looked pleased with his dot-connecting.

"Yeah, well, she may like you now broskii, but she may have a different opinion after lunch, if you no what I'm saying." Jayden make a crude imitation of a blow-job by sticking his tongue in his cheek and running his finger across his face in the same direction.

This time, Sulu gave him a sharp kick under the table.

"Yez, zat iz vat I em vorried about. But, I have zommzing he doze not. A souzern gentleman."

Karrina had sent him a quick message on his PADD telling him he should come around quarter to 8. It was 7:20 now and most people were excused due to the docking schedule.

"Bonez! Bonez! Open ze doorrr!" Chekov pounded on the door of 8267.

"If someone isn't dying, then somethin' better be on fire! What the hell – "

"I need your help! Vat ver you doing anyways? Your hair looks az zough you have stuck your finger in a brrroken replicator."

"Shut up and get in here you brat."

Chekov did as he was told.

"For your information, I was sleeping. I missed my break today AGAIN because that damn French bastard actually BOOKED an extra long lunch with Kirk's approval. I couldn't do anything about it. I mean, who the hell needs a two hour lunch AND a half-hour break?!" McCoy's eyebrows were knit together in a scowl.

"Vell, I actually ken tell you why he took zo long…" Chekov began to tell McCoy all of the detail of the previous night.

"So, I'm to understand that he got 2 and a half hours of free time so he could have a quick FUCK? AND WITH THE GIRL YOU LIKE?! AND KIRK WAS OKAY THIS?! WHAT UTTER BULLSHIT!" he pressed his index fingers to his temples. "We have serious work to do. Have a seat."

He pulled out a large, wheeled white-board. On one side, there was a picture of the human anatomy that could be change to any other humanoid species by switching the plastic sheet. The other side was blank with a writing surface. McCoy had it on the blank side.

"So, what were the positives of the walk?" he looked expectantly at Chekov.

"Uh… She laughed at my jokez?"

"Yes, excellent." He scribbled 'enjoyed humor' on the board with blue marker. He turned to look at Chekov again.

"She… didn't zeem to strrrugle vith ze conversation. She zeemed sad zat she was having lunch vith Charmont. She…made a comment zat I supposed could be described az suggestive." He described the scene pertaining to the Samba song.

McCoy clapped his hands. "This, my friend, is excellent! This is proof you have a leg up over Charmont! We just need to harness that to make you a young stunner."

"How vill ve do zat?"

"Simple. You just pull out the suave and sophisticated and give it a bit of a polish. Do that, and she'll be whistlin' what ever tune you can think of. Chekov wasn't getting it.

McCoy began pacing the room. "Okay, you said she liked your humor right? Just play that up a little. You don't want a rep for being 'funny'. Also, compliment something, like we discussed before, and keep it sincere. Have a couple things ready to talk about, but NEVER talk about more than three things you talked about last time. She'll start to see the repetition and think there isn't anything else you have in common. For example, ask her more about her dance and music she likes, rather than her family. This is your first 'real' date, so still keep things light. And whatever you do, DON'T TALK ABOUT CHARMONT. Some girls like when boys fight over them, but this one sounds too down-to-earth for that. You don't want to say something that sounds jealous. Charmont is an idiot, so he might have mentioned you at lunch. His mistake will be your good fortune. She'll see how mature you are. Oh, and wear something different than last time. Got it?"

He stopped and turned to a confounded Chekov.

" Oh boy. Just go. Your going to be late."

With out another word, he got up, still wondering what the hell had just happened.

Hey guys, updates will be coming a little slower for the next few weeks, as I am totally booked solid. I'll try to have the next one up this weekend though. Reviews make me smile! :)