"pisicuţă"- little cat, can be used mockingly, mostly on girls (pisoi, pisoiul meu - male equivalent)
Janet Fraiser left her house, stopped in midstride, backtracked to the kitchen, picked up the manila folder that she had almost forgotten and headed back to her car. Her normally relaxing commute was anything but, as she recalled her conversation with Cassie from the previous night.
"It was really nice of Misha to help me with my homework," Cassie said as they left the restaurant.
"Yes, it was quite nice of the Colonel to help you," Janet agreed. She paused and Cassie picked up on everything that she wasn't saying.
"He is very nice," Cassie agreed, even as she attempted to switch the radio station to the station she preferred. "He thinks very highly of you."
"Chekov?" Janet asked just to confirm that the Glowering, Bellowing, Finger Pointing Whirling Dervish known as Colonel Chekov was in fact the same person that Cassie had just mentioned. And yes, she put the radio back on her favorite station. Driving had its privileges, after all.
"He said that you treat his people like they were Hammond's people. I know when I first started school, I was the strange girl from Canada. People treated me odd."
Janet remembered all too well that awkward transition. It had taken plenty of patience, plus some help from Dr. McKenzie, but Cassie was now fully integrated into her new home.
"I thought school had gotten better," prompted Janet.
"It has, especially now that physics is finally making sense."
Well damn it to hell, Chekov didn't have to make it sound as though the Russian team were outcasts. They were part of the mountain, accepted as part of the team.
Except that they weren't. Not really, Janet noticed when she began watching the interactions between the various personnel. By the time she had her midmorning coffee break, she had noticed the patterns. There was the usual enlisted / commissioned officer divide with the senior NCOs ignoring them all, but the American and Russians… definitely some tension. She decided that it was something that she herself needed to work on, so she deliberately joined SG4 for lunch at their table. Her impromptu arrival at their table surprised them, but by the end of the lunch they were chatting easily.
The afternoon found Chekov in her office peering at Cassandra's homework and quizzes. He rubbed his eyes and then his growly bear face brightened when she put a cup of hot tea in front of him.
"Dare I hope that is for me?" was his hopeful question.
"It's the least I could do for you since you're reviewing Cassie's schoolwork. What do you think?" She sat down opposite from himself and prepared for the bad news.
"I'm rather impressed. In this one quiz, she broke at least four basic rules of physics and created a few new ones. This teacher of hers is inept as she fails to notice the increasing acceleration of Cassie's despair." He admitted before he gingerly sipped at the tea. He took a bigger sip and then beamed. "This is… good."
"You don't need to be so surprised," Janet snipped.
"I've drunk enough of the coffee here to be surprised that anything is drinkable," retorted Chekov. "Less said about the food the better it is for all."
"It's not too late for her to drop the course," Janet prompted. "Should she?"
"I think if I can get her grounded in the basics, she can build on it. The test is next Monday?"
"Yes," Janet confirmed.
"That's three nights plus the weekend. Five nights? It's doable. She picked up quickly last night. Perhaps I may give her Sunday night off," he decided before he began writing out the correct answers to the quizzes. "Perhaps not, she will have to earn it by not breaking the laws of Physics with wild abandonment. The time the base shakes, I will know that it is because Cassie has broken another universal constant."
"Colonel Chekov, I appreciate your willingness to help Cassie, but I can't expect you to give up every night for this while you're here."
He looked up from the paperwork, and he quirked a lopsided grin. "I need a reprieve. While I'm here, I have the SGC and my quarters. Sometimes, I escape for a meal because too much O'Neill and my head will pop."
He gestured a miniature explosion and Janet laughed.
"You look surprised. I am very funny. Here, I must be very serious, very loud. To protect my country's interests, I must point finger a great deal, wave hands so Hammond can hear me above O'Neill's plaintive whines. Now if you don't mind, I must attempt to decipher whatever this is before I am required to start finger pointing and yelling in…" Chekov checked his watch which was on his right wrist, and continued, "Twenty-seven minutes. Put money on it with Siler and you will win."
Janet leaned back in her chair, unexpectedly uneasy that Chekov knew about the Bellowing Berserker Betting Pool from which O'Neill was excluded, for obvious reasons.
"Ah, you are surprised that not only the Bear dances, but he dances quite well. Twenty six minutes, Doctor."
With that, Chekov returned back to Cassie's homework leaving Janet Fraiser confused yet intrigued.
Chekov arrived promptly at her doorstep at seven. He was in civvies. In one hand was a bag emblazoned with a bookstore's name and in his other, there was a box of pastries from a new, high end bakery that had just been mentioned in The Gazette earlier that week.
"Colonel," Janet protested. "You didn't need to bring anything."
The colonel shook his head in protest.
"When visiting, it is considered polite to bring something," Chekov explained. "Also for this, can you not call me Colonel?"
"I'm not calling you Misha," protested Janet.
"Technically, that's too familiar, so normally you would call me Mikhail Kirillovich. However, that is a mouthful for you Americans, so Michael is sufficient. Now, where is my pupil?" He asked.
"Finishing up her European History homework. She can't spend all her time on physics… Michael," Janet paused before adding his name to sentence.
"If you're having such problems with Michael, it is good that I did not insist on Mikhail Kirillovich."
There was no doubt in Janet's mind, Mikhail Kirillovich Chekov was a smart ass.
Janet kept a watchful eye on teacher and student, not because she thought there would be any impropriety, but because she was still struggling to figure out Chekov. What type of individual volunteered to teach a high schooler college physics? Sam had volunteered also, but she was Cassie's second mother in all ways but legal, but why Chekov? Hammond had once confessed to her that he couldn't get a real read on the Russian because the Colonel Chekov façade remained intact at all times.
"I don't know what his game is. What he really wants," George Hammond tiredly admitted after a long meeting with Chekov. "I'm quite good at evaluating people, else O'Neill would have been court-martialed at least twice by now. I can't get a fix on the Mikhail Kirillovich Chekov the man. Colonel Chekov the dutiful Russian Soldier, yes. Not the man."
Chekov, no… MICHAEL…, she reminded herself, had purchased two review books and he taught from that. He was calm and composed, but horribly dry in his humor and a giggling Cassie seemed to do well with his teaching style. After an hour or so, he reviewed her homework for that evening, told her to revise it as she could better now and informed that was the end of the physics lesson.
That done, it was time for Janet to hand out the pastries and join the conversation. Michael kept the conversation light but excused himself after he had finished his tea. "I must return. I'm sure that they are very nervous that I am out and about, unsupervised."
"Michael," protested Janet.
"You're getting better at not choking when you're using my American name. There is hope that one day you can use my true name," he dryly stated. "However, alas, I must return to now being Colonel Chekov. Do you wish to continue with this, Cassie?"
"Yes, I actually may pass because of you," Cassie happily interjected.
Chekov pointed his finger at Cassie, with a sly wink at Janet for using his pointer finger. "You will pass or fail because of yourself. I will only provide you with tools. Same time tomorrow night?"
Cassie waited for Janet to confirm and then agreed.
"Wonderful, I will see you then."
On Saturday afternoon, Sam Carter popped into Janet's office. "Hi, I'm back," she needlessly explained as she was four days overdue. "The Tok'Ra took longer than I anticipated. Once I take a very long shower, I can stop by tonight and help Cassie with her homework? For a supposedly advanced race, their showers and their food aren't the best."
"Surprise, she already has a physics tutor, and you're never ever guess who it is," Janet admitted. "Let's go outside for a smoke, shall we?"
'Going for outside for a smoke' was their slang for meeting in the cafeteria for a quick chat.
"Sounds like I missed a lot," Sam stated as she followed Janet to the cafeteria.
"You have no idea," was Janet's wry response.
"Chekov?" Sam repeated in disbelief once she heard who Cassie's tutor was. "Colonel Chekov? The Russian Colonel Chekov?"
Janet nodded her head before she added, "He's the only Chekov I know."
"How's it going?" was Sam's next question. "He's a bit brusque at times."
Sam's grin said it all, and Janet nodded her head.
"Amazingly well. Very calm, very patient with Cassie. He presents the material for her so she can understand it. I've offered to pay him for his time, he got all Chekovy on me."
"Chekovy?" Sam asked.
Janet took a very deep breathe, inhaled and exhaled, and then pointed her finger at Sam. "Cassandra is in dire need of assistance and therefore I will provide it. Let us not speak of remuneration as I will not accept it."
"That's a very good Chekov," Sam admitted. "Got to work on the fierce eyebrows though."
Janet quietly laughed before she smoothed down her eyebrows.
"It's a very good Colonel Chekov. The other Chekov is quieter with a very dry sense of humor. He's a bit of a smart ass, actually."
Sam nearly spit out her coffee.
"No," she protested. "He is…always so serious when he's here."
"We're talking O'Neill level of SmartAssedry," confessed Janet. "There's times when I believe that he might even exceed our Good Colonel."
"I'm really sorry that I couldn't help her more with her physics."
"That's ok, I know exactly how you can make it up to me," Janet offered. At Sam's confused look, Janet sweetly explained, "You'll teach her how to drive."
"Can I do something less painful, perhaps donate a kidney?"
On Monday afternoon, a very nervous Cassandra took a long deep breath, held it, and then exhaled. Three times, as per Misha's instructions. Then she opened her test booklet and began to read the exam question, marking the questions as Misha had instructed her.
These questions were easy, especially compared to the most recent batch of questions that Chekov had her complete. Those had been scary, but this… this midterm was easy. She would have to send him an email and let him know how much he had helped her with the class. He was scheduled to leave for Russia today, so she doubted that her sincere thanks would reach him before he was at the airport.
"Take a few deep breaths and do the best you can. That's all you can do," Chekov had assured her. "Don't try for a perfect grade because you don't need that pressure. Permit yourself two… three points off."
He had broadly grinned after he had stated that. Cassie liked him because his personality, his humor… they reminded her of what once was home… Hanka.
Janet Fraiser left her staff meeting and returned to her office. Her voice mail light was lit so she played back the message. It was Cassie's physics teacher and Janet listened to the message, not one, not twice but three times to confirm that she understood the issue. By the last time, her disbelief had crescendoed into a righteous rage.
Cassie had ACED her midterm, which had caused the teacher to suspect that she had cheated. Combining the difficulties was that Cassie had claimed that the teacher couldn't contact her tutor for verification as he was a Russian Air Force Colonel?
"We don't condone cheating, Dr. Fraiser, and to compound it by lying?"
She returned the phone call, got sent to the teacher's voice mail and left a very brusque comment. By the time Janet, an enraged Mama Bear, had reached her car, she had acquired an entourage consisting of the very concerned SG1 team.
Janet Frazier (and her entourage) were met at the office by Cassie's literature teacher. When he saw her, the former active duty Marine exhaled loudly. "Oh thank God, you're here. If you could come with me? We've got an international incident brewing. Cassie managed to contact her tutor, and the Russian bear arrived in full uniform. He's rather…intense."
"Yes, I know how he is," Janet admitted as she followed Mike Baldwin to the conference room.
"I got pulled in as he was speaking Russian. The principal wanted a translation. After a few minutes, I told him…I couldn't understand his dialect, claimed it was Northern Russian. Truth of the matter is, your friend has a very saucy mouth on him. I thought it best not to translate."
The three stooges of SG1- that being Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson and Teal'c all mouthed, 'Friend?'
"He's Cassie's physics tutor and he seems fond of her," was Janet's explanation. "I'm surprised he's here as I thought he was leaving for home."
It had been an act of desperation to call Misha. At most, Cassie had hoped that he would be able to talk to her teacher, confirm that he existed and that he had been tutoring her. Just please get the cheating allegation resolved before they notified Janet. When he had been unable to reach her teacher, Misha had left the airport and had arrived at her school.
If she wasn't so upset about the situation, it would have been almost funny to see the reaction of stunned disbelief to Chekov, her supposedly fictitious Russian Air Force Colonel. The Colonel had arrived, in uniform, and he had made a beeline for her.
"So, pisicuţă, you've done too well on your exam. I am proud, very proud of all your hard work. Do not worry, I will resolve this so they will understand that you did not cheat. I warn you, that I will do a great deal of yelling. I am very good at yelling," a somber Misha assured her.
"You missed your plane," Cassie protested. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry. There's always another. Now, I must go forth and do battle." Chekov flashed her a crooked grin and then entered the conference room.
She sat outside the conference room and waited. God, she want nothing more than to go home … or cry.
When her Mom arrived and embraced her, Cassie did cry.